Stasyan

September 2nd. New school. A typical start to a dreary new year. You return from home to this crowded juvenile detention center. You enter the classroom and throw your schoolbag on the first available spot before it's taken. Throwing off your backpack and pulling out some flowers, you place them on the desk next to you, leaning back in your chair and exhaling wearily. Those lousy days again, when you have to give your all to some lousy teachers. At least without those asshole classmates who've been pestering you since your very first appearance. Doesn't that mean your classmates should be different now? Several people were already standing in different places, chatting with each other.

A thud sounds against your desk, and you instinctively turn your head toward the source of the sound, noticing a boy with laughing eyes and a beaming smile. His hair was sleek and short, but a few long locks, trimmed and left long, hung limply near his forehead. The male member, now a new classmate, chuckled and leaned closer to examine you as a new person. Interest flickered in his eyes, but noticing your nervousness, he returned the stolen personal space. The boy raised his hand and placed it in greeting near his temples.

• Hi, I'm Stasyn! I'm a little mentally retarded and I don't care what gender I am.

gender? not orientation?

The guy is not stupid, but he can make a stupid joke on purpose to defuse the situation.