Tags:
Fiction,
Literary,
General,
Gay,
Action & Adventure,
Juvenile Fiction,
Psychology,
Social Issues,
Interpersonal relations,
School & Education,
Schools,
Psychopathology,
Dating & Sex,
High schools,
Homosexuality,
Coming Out (Sexual Orientation),
Alcoholism,
Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse,
Addiction,
Male Homosexuality
loved her. She was always hauling a carload of kids somewhere—art museums, plays, music festivals. Students voted her Best Teacher every year, until hard-ass Mueller concocted a policy prohibiting anyone from being voted best anything for more than three years.
While Nelson and Kyle helped her clean up the day’s supplies, Nelson asked, “Will you be the group’s faculty adviser?” She shook the water off some brushes she’d rinsed. “I have no doubt students—and faculty—would benefit from the group. But not everyone will agree.” She gazed at him from behind round owl glasses. “You realize you’re bound to get opposition.” Nelson crossed his arms. “I don’t care.”
MacTraugh wiped her large hands on her paint-smeared smock. “The group will require Mr. Mueller’s approval. It may not be easy.
Yes, you can count on me. But it would help to have parents’ support too. Kyle? What about your parents?”
“Uh”—he glanced down—“they don’t know about me yet.”
Nelson rolled his eyes. “Earth to Kyle! Hel-lo! Your best friend’s the school fagola. Your mom and dad aren’t brainless.” Kyle hated when Nelson talked to him like that in front of other people.
MacTraugh patted Kyle on the shoulder. “Well, consider telling them. Believe me, it’s better your family find out from you than from someone else.”
Kyle thought about that as he and Nelson cut through the teachers’ parking lot toward home. A brisk autumn breeze whipped through his hair as they snaked between cars. He looked down to button his jacket, bumping into Nelson. “What’re you—?” He looked up.
Jack Ransom loomed in front of them, obstructing their path. “Hey, faggots.” Kyle’s heartbeat quickened. They were sandwiched between two cars. Instinctively he spun around. José Montero blocked them in from behind. They were trapped.
“Yo, Metal Mouth.” Jack walked toward Kyle. “Why you hang out with this green-haired faggot?” He knocked Kyle’s cap off his head. It spiraled onto the pavement. “You queer too?”
He leaned so close that Kyle could feel the heat of his breath.
Nelson picked up Kyle’s cap. “Jack, leave him alone.”
Jack slapped the cap out of Nelson’s hand. “What’re you going to do, scratch me with your pretty blue nails?” Nelson started for him, but José grabbed him from behind, pinning back his arms.
“Oww!” Nelson yelled. “Let me go, asshole!”
Kyle watched, feeling helpless. Jack turned back to him and shot his arms out, slapping Kyle’s chest. The force knocked him against the car. “I said, you queer too?”
The metal jabbed into Kyle’s back. His heart raced and he was trembling. He wanted to say something, but nothing came out.
Nelson struggled against José. “Leave him alone.” He kicked backward, but José tightened his grip. “Oww!” Nelson shouted. “Cut it out.”
“Hey!” a voice called.
“Shit!” José let go of Nelson, as Mr. Mueller rushed up, spreading his arms between the boys.
“What’s going on?”
Nelson pointed to Jack. “They jumped us.”
“We did not!”
“Break it up,” said Mr. Mueller. “It’s after school hours. You’re supposed to be off the grounds.” Nelson sneered at Jack and José. “Fucking assholes!”
“That’s it.” Mueller grabbed Nelson by the jacket. “Come with me. You, too, Meeks.” Jack flailed his wrist. “Bye, Nelly. Bye, Kyle.” José puckered his lips and laughed.
Mueller whirled around to them. “You want to come too?”
Jack and José practically ran as they hurried away.
Kyle followed Nelson to Mueller’s office, angry at both of them—at Nelson for shooting off his stupid mouth and at Mueller for being so unfair. While Nelson argued that it wasn’t their fault, Mueller sat behind his huge desk pulling a rubber band between his fingers. “Nelson, I don’t want to hear it. If you’d just stop acting so …”
Nelson faked a yawn, making Mueller madder. “Can’t