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Shawn isn’t God fearing until sixth grade when Evelyn Jackson, a seventh grader, tells him he’s going to hell because he’s cut his hair short, and it makes him look like a lesbian. She whispers the last word, red flushing her usually pale cheeks as she says it, as though it’s a curse word. Or maybe she thinks that if she says it too loudly God might hear her.
Shawn had cut all of his long hair off with a pair of Gus’ play scissors in a moment of impulsivity. The blunt blades had chewed at his brown locks, mangling it into a jagged, uneven cut. Shawn had secretly thought it looked cool and edgy, and half hoped his dad would leave it be but naturally Henry had resolutely disagreed and spent the whole evening attempting to even it out, while his mom cried.
“I just like it that way,” Shawn murmurs, not really sure how to respond, a burn of shame settling deep in his chest as he reaches a hand to his hair subconsciously. He does really like it this way. He likes the way it feels lighter on his neck, feels cooler in the summer, feels like him when nothing else about his body does.
Evelyn flounces off, clearly unsatisfied, the cross that usually sits around her neck, tight in her fist. Maybe she was hoping Shawn would agree and magically grow it all back out, in like ten minutes tops. Maybe she was hoping he would ask her to help exorcise him.
Gus tells him to ignore her, and they are soon running off, God and hell and haircuts all forgotten because Jacob, the tall kid that sits in the back of homeroom, has just dared Shayne Taylor to eat a worm.
“He won’t actually do it, he’s bluffing,” Shawn decides firmly, but Gus looks less convinced.
“You know Shayne is actually insane, I wouldn’t put anything past him,” Gus retorts, the pair watching with a morbid curiosity.
In the end, Shayne doesn’t eat the worm, but when Shawn goes home that night, it feels like he has instead. Something is squirming in his stomach, twisting and turning, and he feels sick. Because what if Evelyn is right? She’s a whole year older, and she talks to God all the time. Shawn doesn’t fancy the idea of hell, but he also doesn’t fancy the idea of having long hair again. Maybe God can make an exception, just this once?
-
The Spencer’s don’t go to church much. Henry Spencer finishes a night shift at the station, and when he gets back home, early Sunday morning, the last thing on his mind is God. No, it’s usually breakfast, and bed. On a few rare occasions, they show their faces and save their souls when it’s convenient. There is one bible in the house. Shawn starts reading it.
The worm Shawn didn’t eat, is growing bigger. A deep and unrelenting feeling of dread has permanently made itself at home within his body. Shawn starts to wonder, if this is just what it feels like to know God. He starts going to church with the Guster’s. He does his best to sit still through the long sermons, trying to pay attention to the droning voice of Father Peter Westly. He wants God to know he cares. He sits up and tries to listen.
-
In eighth grade, Shawn starts binding his chest. Tight bandages wrapped around his chest, he can feel his ribs screaming beneath the cloth, but he doesn’t care. He gets the desired effect.
Someone in his chem class starts repeatedly asking if he’s a boy or a girl. Shawn scowls and doesn’t respond, instead choosing to flick a piece of his eraser, that he’s spent the last twenty-minutes dismantling instead of listening, straight into the guy’s face.
He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He sits naked in front of the bathroom mirror, his arms wrapped tightly around his changing body, wishing his could squeeze himself until he just stopped growing. Sobbing, he prays, begging God to realize he’s made a mistake, realize he needs to fix this. Whatever this is.
Father Peter Westly tells the congregation that God makes no mistakes, that everyone is perfectly crafted in his vision, and fucking hell, if that doesn’t piss Shawn off, because if God got it right for everyone else, why on earth did he give up when he got to making him?
At church, people talk about the evils of homosexuality, and Shawn starts to worry that salvation is too far out of his reach, because he fancies Rachel from his Spanish class. He doesn’t feel like a lesbian, but when a girl likes another girl, lesbianism is what it is, right? He’s reminded unpleasantly of Evelyn and the cross clutched in her God-fearing hand. He doesn’t ask Rachel out, and he’s glad he doesn’t because she starts going out with Samuel instead.
-
One night, Shawn and Gus are hanging out, up in Gus’ bedroom, Shawn sprawled out on the bed, Gus sat on his desk chair, spinning a little as he flicks through one of the many superhero comics that Henry won’t buy Shawn.
“It trivializes police work. We don’t need vigilantes, we need cops. You want to save lives, make me proud? Become a cop,” He had said, ripping the Batman comic from Shawn’s hand.
“I know you’ve stopped eating,” Gus says, looking up from his comic. Shawn just scoffs.
“No, I haven’t, I just ate downstairs with you like ten minutes ago,” he points out, frowning at his best friend.
“Doesn’t count. I watched you push it around your plate and cut it up and then you fed a bit to the cat when you thought I wasn’t looking,”
“Look, I can’t explain it so let’s drop it okay,” Shawn snaps, suddenly very defensive and Gus holds his hands up in surrender. “Just, you need to eat, that’s all,” he tells him, and Shawn rolls his eyes, his stomach sinking. He wants to stop changing, his hips are curving, his chest is getting bigger, and prayer isn’t working. He’s taking more drastic measures.
The tight binding around his chest is suffocating.
He looks over at Gus, envious. His body is still boyish, he still has his flat chest, and soon he’ll have a deeper voice than Shawn. It makes him hot with jealousy, and he feels Gods watchful eye upon him. He should bring it up in confession, but the shame is too strong to even admit any of this in confidence. He doesn’t understand why he feels like this.
Shawn carefully opens his mouth. “Do you ever worry about God?”
Confused, Gus raises an eyebrow. “Worry how?”
Sighing, Shawn shrugs, “I just mean like, I’m busy worshiping this guy, and what if he isn’t very… good,” he trails off softly. Gus looks even more confused.
“God is good, that’s like the whole point,” Gus says, and Shawn hums a little.
“It’s just- “Shawn falters, picking at the skin around his fingers. “Everyone says that God hates gay people, that it’s a sin, but why would he make people gay, if he hated them so much? Why would he make people suffer like that, make them so that the only way to reach salvation is to deny themselves of love,”
And Gus understands what Shawn is getting at now. Biting his lip, Shawn watches as Gus seems to struggle internally.
“I don’t think God hates gay people,” he says finally.
“I don’t want to go to hell Gus,” Shawn whimpers, and before he can stop himself, he’s crying. Startled, Gus lurches up off his chair, and manages to wrap his arms awkwardly around his best friend. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, he just holds Shawn tight and hopes it’s enough.
-
When Shawn comes out as trans in the tenth grade, the first person he tells is Gus. They’re walking home from school, when Shawn opens his mouth to ask about the math homework, and the words, “Gus, I’m transgender, I’m a boy,” come tumbling out, all fast and tumultuous. Gus looks at him for a second, really looks, at him. And then he nods.
“Okay, so you’re a boy now?” He repeats back and Shawn nods slightly manically, his heart pounding in his chest, because he’s said it out loud now.
“Yeah- well sort of, I’ve kind of always been a boy- I think,” he says, his voice shaking a little, and Gus wraps one arm around his friend’s shoulder.
“What do you want to be called? I just mean, you won’t want to use your name anymore, since it’s a girl name, right?” Gus asks tentatively, and Shawn laughs a little.
“Yeah, well I’ve been thinking about it for a little while. Um, Shawn?” He poses it more as a question, fearful that Gus will laugh. It feels like revealing a massive part of himself, opening himself up and hoping people aren’t afraid of what they see.
“Shawn,” Gus nods slowly, testing it out, letting it sit on his tongue.
Shawn nods firmly, confident this time. “Shawn,” He agrees simply.
“Alright Shawn,”
And that’s that.
-
His dad is surprisingly laissez-faire about the whole thing, but Shawn gets the feeling he always kind of knew deep down. His mom takes it harder, struggles with ‘loosing’ her little girl. Shawn feels like Judas, feels like a traitor. Like he sold his old self out, let her die for his own gain.
After his mom leaves, Shawn blames himself.
“Your mom loves you,” Henry tells him, when Shawn breaks down one night after dinner, her absence from the table gnawing at him.
“She left because of me dad,” he sobs and Henry sighs. He puts his hand on Shawn’s knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down, shaking the table and everything on it.
“That’s not true Shawn, and I know you know that’s not true. C’mere, son,” Shawn melts into his dads embrace and wishes they hugged more often.
-
“You are too invested in your earthly desires. God made you as you are. To change yourself is going against Gods will.” The pastor tells Shawn. He’s freshly eighteen and he can feel his blood rising, boiling intensely inside of him, bubbling. He fights the urge to do something violent, something he’ll regret. Clenching his fists at his sides, he clears his throat.
He’d come for reassurance and clarity. He tells himself angrily, he should have known better.
“God made me trans, surely he intends me to change as I need to, that is my challenge, my journey?” he snaps, his stomach doing that familiar jolt as the pastor shakes his head.
“God made you a woman-,”
Shawn is already storming from the church, throwing himself onto his new motorbike, to go with his new licence and newfound image, driving off, the rage ebbing from him as he rides towards the one place he feels at home.
He parks his bike, and runs up the front door, knocking on it hard. Gus answers. He always answers.
-
“It’s not that I want to hate God, but Christianity had me thinking there was something wrong with me. It made me feel broken, like God fucked up when he got to me. I starved myself for two years because I didn’t realize I could admit how I was feeling about my body, without God knowing and damning me. I thought I was going to hell since I was like twelve, for being queer Gus. God is love and God loves love until it’s queer love and I just can’t bear it anymore. I can’t kneel and pretend it’s fine,” Shawn rants, the pair cuddled into each other in Gus’ bed.
Gus nods, tracing his fingers along the surgery scars on Shawn’s chest. Things have changed since they were teenagers, for the better. “Your journey with faith is your own. You can be angry Shawn, you have more than the right to feel angry,” he says softly. “Why don’t we skip church tomorrow, have milkshakes instead?” he suggests, and Shawn chuckles a little, exhaling heavily.
The dread is easing, slowly, and something new is blooming.