Layton grinned at her. “Do I detect some disapproval?” he said. “I thought you’d want me to be all empathetic.”

“If you were really empathetic, you wouldn’t be smirking,” she said. Then she turned to me. “I’m really happy for you, Ash. I know it was a hard decision, and I want you to know that I’m one hundred percent behind you.”

“So’s Paul!” said Layton, like a fart out of his mouth.

Katie stormed off in exasperation and Layton went after her. “What? Whadd-I-do?”

Now it was Paul’s turn to smirk. “Can you believe I had a crush on him in sixth grade? Until he swallowed a live goldfish and got parasites.”

“I think the parasites won,” I said. Our hands were close on the table. Paul nudged my pinkie with his, and I linked them. So much for no public displays.

“You okay?” I asked him.

He nodded, but it was a reluctant nod. “I know it’ll all get better—I just wish I could sleep through this part.”

“I’m down for that,” I told him with a wink.

He gave me a semi-disgusted look. “You’re as bad as Layton.”

Football practice was fun-and-a-half.

Our coach gathered us on the field before practice. “All right,” he said, in his outdoor voice, which I think was the only voice he had. “I am aware that we have a situation today. And, rather than let it fester, we’re going to talk about it.”

I forced myself not to visibly react. Like I said, I was still in a shell of protective numbness. But I did notice there were a few grunts of discomfort from the team.

“Do we gotta?” Norris asked.

“Yeah, we gotta,” said the coach, mocking him, then returned his attention to the rest of us. “Your friend and teammate, Ash, has stepped forward with a major identity reveal this week.” (Major identity reveal. God. I wondered how long he had struggled to come up with that one.) “I’m sure it wasn’t easy, and we need to applaud him for doing it.”

Then in the silence that followed, someone began a slow clap that was silenced by a glare from the coach. He pointed at the culprit and said, “That is exactly the kind of thing I will not tolerate. Ash is an important member of this team, and anyone—anyone—who gives him a hard time, I don’t care who it is, is off the team.”

I was actually impressed. Not every coach would make that kind of commitment. But I also hated the fact that he thought I needed institutional protection from my fellow meatheads.

Everyone shifted a bit, but kept their thoughts to themselves, both good and bad. Except for one kid. Dave Riggins. He existed in my original world but was cut from the team back when we were freshmen.

“What about the locker room?” he said.