Sneak Peek 10: The Circus in Me, S.M. Bjarnson

His smile was quiet. Stare struck into my blue eyes. Something he saw every day and somehow he was seeing it now; guilt.
“Unless Jazz is bad too, then none of that whatsoever.” Gladly giving into odd ideas of my strange personality.
“Miss Livingston, there is an Honor Code set in place at BYU. Every student abides by the rules.” In my hands he placed another copy of the guidelines I abided.
“I embrace that you have proof of these actions Mr. Branch President?” Eager to understand what proof was evidence enough to lead me to his office. I glance down at his last name, Bleu. Calculations being precise. All facts and folklore coming into perfect harmony.
“Did your daughter make these complaints contrary to me? She is my roommate.” He gleams acceptance of the things I profess.“Such a beautiful name Tracey Aliza. You should go by that instead of this Trae Lae business.” What an awful name; Tracey Aliza. I was one of many. Born into the prototype of human beings.“I do follow the rules.” In his hands I laid the copy back. I had done nothing wrong, I corrected.“My daughter’s middle name is Tracey.” Ignoring absolute honesty.“Is she the 4^th or 5^th child in the line of kin? I am the 2^nd in my generation. I will tell you this because obviously you don’t understand the meaning of names.” My gut bulging with pride and power. His vision changed. More nervous than wearing a skirt four inches above knee length.
 “I am named Tracey because in a male dominate society, who think little of the female race, it deemed inevitable to confirm my father wanted a 2^nd son.” His silence spoke for itself. Ruled by souls and soldiers of generational men he acted as the rest did. I feared my gumption. 

S.M. BJARNSON