“Very well.” Mr. Davidson let out another sigh. “Thank you.”

As they disappeared down the hallway, the rest of us were finally free to quietly freak out, since we’d all been sitting there frozen for the past five minutes.

Mr. Davidson dropped into his chair, unbuttoning his top button. “All right.” He tapped the copy of the script with his finger. “Go home and memorize your lines and we’ll be ready to go for our next rehearsal. Okay? We’ll figure it out.”

Chairs shuffled and squeaked. Minnie picked up her wings and tucked them back under her arm.

“Bye, um, Anne?”

“Yeah, bye, Minnie?”

“Yeah.”

I felt cemented into my chair. I’d grabbed a treat earlier and now it was melting in my sweaty palm.

I mean, with all that was happening, what was I wondering?

I was wondering if Gilly knew about this and why she hadn’t texted me.

“Anne?” Mr. Davidson’s boots clicked across the floor. “You all right?”

“Oh, I’m just. . .” I pulled out my skates. “It’s just too bad.”

“Well,” Mr. Davidson muttered as he rewrapped his treats. “That’s Greenville for you, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

Mr. Davidson shook his head, like he’d suddenly remembered who I was. He put on a warm smile. “It will be fine. Just a little fuss.”

“Protest is an important part of any democracy,” I said as I pulled my skate lace tight.

“Well then, Greenville is very democratic today.” And with that, he scooted his treats into a canvas bag along with his scripts.

As I got to my feet, he turned in the doorway. “Don’t let Lynde see you on those in the hall.”

“I won’t.”

“And tell your mother I said, ‘Hang in there.’ Tell her I said Greenville’s bark is worse than its bite. Tell her I say that as a queer who’s lived here all his life.”

I didn’t know what that meant until I got home, where I found Lucy and Millie were on the receiving end of democracy at work.

“What’s happening?”

Lucy was sitting with her laptop on her lap, a glass of wine in one hand, half-empty. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, swirling her wine.

“Tell her.” Millie got up and pointed me to the seat next to Lucy.

“This is school business,” Lucy said, lowering the cover on her laptop.

“It’s her school too,” Millie said, guiding my shoulder. “Show her.”

I sat down on the couch. Lucy drained her wine and then opened her laptop. “I’m not reading you who wrote these,” she said. “This is confidential.”

I didn’t need to see the emails to know who they were from.

EIGHTEEN

There were a lot of emails, and they all started the same.

“First we want to welcome you and your family to Greenville and congratulate you on your new position at Greenville High School.”