I was terrified of what would come next, but maybe a little excited, too, and a little relieved—or at least looking forward to the moment I could actually feel relieved. Mostly what I felt was dread. An abiding sense of impending doom, like when you total your parents’ new car that you weren’t supposed to be driving. My head was pounding, but it wasn’t an interdimensional headache, it was a real one. Of all the situations I ever thought I might be facing in my life, the original me couldn’t even have imagined this being one of them.

When I got home, I drew myself an EMP bath, even though I didn’t really need one, and waited for the sky to fall.

It only took about an hour.

Through the magic of social media, the news went schoolwide and beyond in minutes. Someone told my parents—probably anonymously—about the video of me and Paul kissing. That video had already been posted and reposted until it was in so many places, it was the first thing that came up on Google when you entered the words “gay locker kiss.”

I want to be able to tell you that my parents surprised me with their reaction. That they were accepting and open-minded and we had a group hug and they told me it was all going to be okay. That does happen sometimes. I know it does. But it didn’t happen here.

They called me downstairs just after I had gotten out of the bath. Both of them had come home early. They didn’t make small talk or beat around the bush. They told me to sit down. I told them I preferred to stand. They asked me to explain the video. I explained it honestly. They asked me if I was serious. I told them I was. They asked me if I was sure. I told them it was a stupid question. After that, my father paced the kitchen and my mother stood at the granite island, looking down into her cup of coffee. Occasionally she would glance up at me with burdened eyes, as if, when she looked at me, all she could see were her unborn grandchildren dying before her eyes.

It turns out my father had a plan of action.

“You’re going to fix this,” he said. “You’re going to tell everyone that the video was a prank.”

“It wasn’t a prank.”

“I don’t care. You’ll tell people that it was.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Do you want the entire school—your entire team—to think you’re gay?”

“I am gay,” I pointed out.

“Stop saying that.”

“Just because I don’t say it, that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“I just . . . I just don’t want to hear it, okay? Not today. Not right now.” But of course what he really meant was “not ever.”