“Wait, she made you watch A Different World?” Claudia shakes her head, chest shaking with laughter. “No way. I think I fell asleep when she first showed me. At least she didn’t make you watch that depressing French musical.”

“Les Mis is a classic!”

Brie raises a brow. “You sure do know a lot about classics.”

“I didn’t know you liked musicals,” Jack says, turning to me. “That’s so cool!”

“Likes them?” Claudia cackles. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“Simone is a director,” Lydia says, squeezing my shoulder. “Our school is doing Rent at the beginning of December. You should come.”

I haven’t thought about the play in ages. Who even knows what’s gonna happen with that?

“Well,” I start. “I don’t know about amazing—”

“No, that’s so cool,” Brie says, head whipping toward me. “I love that movie.”

The movie? Not the original, groundbreaking Broadway musical that started it all? Okay, girl…

“We all should go,” Ralph says, his voice soft. “I know I would love to.”

I almost groan. He’s not allowed to be nice to me. I can’t cry in front of Ralph.

“Ugh, that shit stain who outed you is working on the play, right?” Claudia wrinkles her nose, grabbing the Doritos bag. “I hope the school administration rips him apart.”

My stomach flips. I hadn’t even thought about how the administration would respond. It’s one of the things I’ve been shoving to the back of my brain.

“Wait,” Lydia says, leaning into me. “I’m gonna need you to tell me every single thing that happened since Thursday.”

“Oh yeah,” Brie says, glancing over. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Not particularly. Thinking about Twitter and everyone knowing—even if they think it’s just a rumor—makes me want to throw up. But with Claudia and Lydia on one side and my Group friends on the other, I feel safe enough to talk about it. I don’t feel like I have to handle it all on my own.

I sigh, plopping on the bed.

“Sure,” I say, anger rising in my throat. “Let me tell you guys all about that little fucker Jesse.”

CHAPTER 30

Between all the people arguing and moving around the house, I barely got any sleep Sunday night. Dad and Dave aren’t fighting anymore, but there are other fights: Dad and Pops arguing about me, Abuela and Abuelo chiming in, Tía Camila telling them all to be quiet. Still, even if my extended family weren’t in town, I probably wouldn’t have slept well anyway.

Picking up my homework before our Monday meeting with the principal was my idea. I figured it would be easiest—staying at home and coming in after school is better than secretaries in the office gossiping as they gather my work for me. Obviously, I was wrong.