Project High School

He Comes Out

Rae climbs through my bedroom window an hour later. I put in my earbuds and listened to music the whole way home, trying to make sense of what had happened. Kendal had finally set something free inside of me, something that had been bothering me since I was in fifth grade. I had ignored it, figured it to be hormones or puberty or whatever, but there was no denying it today.

"What is it?" Rae asks when she arrives. I crack my knuckles. "Oh god, okay, just keep in mind that I haven't told anyone this, not my parents, not Elle, not Chloe, no one. I sort of only figured out what it is this morning." She rolls her eyes. "Is this something stupid? Because last time I was the first to hear something it was because, like, you found out you were allergic to pineapple." I take a deep breath. "No, Rae, I need you to listen to me." She flops down on my bed. "I am listening, I just think this is going to be something stupid." I kneel on the floor in front of the bed. "Please, Rae, I-" "Discovered that I actually hate the Yankees?" She guesses. "Can you listen to me for thirty seconds, Rae?" I say sharply. She smirks at me. "No need to get defensive." I finally snap. "Go. Get out." She sits up, looking apologetic. "Hey, look, I was just kidding." I shake my head. "This was so hard to do and you're not even taking it seriously. Just leave, I'll tell you tomorrow." She rubs my shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'll listen now." I shake her hand off. "It's too late." She sighs and climbs out the window again. I sit on the bed and bury my face in my hands. This can't be happening. I thought I could trust Rae, but she just goofed off too much. Whatever, I still need time to figure this out anyway. Figure out what exactly it is that Kendall does to me, because I have no idea right now.

I sit down in front of my mirror and look at myself. Really, truly look at myself, both physically and as a person. Bright, blue green eyes. Tan skin. Short brown hair. A nose I wish was smaller. Sharp jawline. I am seventeen, almost eighteen. I am the youngest of three children. I am best friends with Rae LeBlanc. I have always known exactly who I am. But is that true? Maybe Kendal didn't really change everything. Maybe he helped me finally realize who I am. Because, in reality, I've always felt a little different. I thought I knew exactly who I was. But everything is different now.

Before leaving the next morning, I glance at myself in the mirror. Lacrosse shorts, Nike T-shirt, Nike socks, and sneakers. An outfit someone would describe as a 'straight white boy outfit.' Up to yesterday, I thought I was just that, but then came Kendall, who just waltzed in and turned it all upside down. I shake my head and leave for the bus.

I stick in my earbuds and start the six block walk to my stop. It's amazing how much everything has changed in one day. What would have happened if I didn't run into Kendal yesterday? I'd probably still be living this weird, in between life. Four blocks to go. I try to convince myself that I'm just overreacting, and it almost works. But how could I be when no one has ever made me feel this way? Only a block left before I'm engulfed by my straight white boy 'friends.' I try my hardest to shake the feeling as I arrive at my stop.

"Hey, Josh!" someone calls. I glance up and pull out one earbud. The voice belongs to Robbie Jackman, starting quarterback for the Northern High Foxes. He's dating Jennifer Teller, the most popular (and horrible) girl in our entire grade, possibly the whole school. Robbie is loud, obnoxious, racist, rude, and homophobic. All my friends are, really, but that's the way 'we' are supposed to be.

"What are you listening to?" Matt Eller, the strong football player, asks. "Theater music," I answer. Danny Richards, the stocky lacrosse player, laughs. "Bro, that's gay," Nick Alvarez, the short baseball player says. My arm twitches, and I have to use all my resistance to keep from punching him, but laugh along with them. Megan Bayman, an intense feminist and rights supporter with a big voice and bigger attitude, rolls her eyes. She's a small girl with long, blonde hair and shocking blue eyes, but she's a strong fighter for what she believes in. "Bro, that's homophobic," she snaps. Alex Portman, a boy about my size who plays basketball, throws an arm around her shoulder. I stiffen. Megan crinkles her nose and tries to pull away, but Alex pulls her back. "Come on, darling, don't be that way." She yanks herself away from him. "I am not your 'darling', Alex." He grabs her waist and pulls her against him, leaving no space. "Spend one night with me and we can change that," he whispers in her ear. Anger surges through me. "Let go of her," I snap, "let go of her right now." Alex steps away, taken aback. "Okay, Christ, calm yourself," he says. Megan's eyes fill with tears. I drop my bag and carefully approach her. "Get away from me," she says shakily. "No, it's okay, I'm not gonna do anything." I glance over my shoulder and gently guide her away. She's shaking. "Are you okay?" I whisper. She looks into my eyes. "Yes," she says, "thank you." I smile. "No problem." She still looks shaky. "C'mere," I say, and gently pull her into my arms. She hesitates before returning the hug.