There was something in the way he looked at me when I said that. Something I didn’t get quite yet. But I would soon enough. “Well,” he said. “I hope they look even worse than you.”

“Yeah,” I told him. “I took them out.” And then gave an odd little laugh, thinking how much “out” I had taken them.

During second period, Ms. Metts, the counselor, called me into her office again—and this time the principal was there. Never a good sign. They both stood when I entered.

“Mr. Bowman, please have a seat,” Principal Benson said.

I didn’t want to be there long enough to sit. “What’s this all about?”

Still, they waited for me to sit, and when I didn’t, they got right down to business, without small talk or mincing words.

“We want to know who did this to you,” Benson said.

“No one,” I told them—which was the truth because those goons weren’t anyone anymore. “I got mugged.”

Ms. Metts gave me her most sympathetic look. “Ash, I know you don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but it is a big deal. It’s a hate crime, and you can’t just let it go.”

“Hate crime?”

And that’s when it finally hit me what they, and Paul, and everyone who saw me this morning was thinking.

“Ash, be honest, at least with yourself,” said the principal. “You came out as gay, and the same week, you’re attacked. It doesn’t take much to connect the dots.”

I shook my head, which made every part of my face hurt. “Just because there’s dots doesn’t mean they connect!”

The two looked at each other, then back to me. Principal Benson crossed his arms. “If you were mugged, then why didn’t you go to the police?”

I started to speak, but stopped myself, realizing there were only two reasons I could give, and neither would fly: A) I didn’t go to the police because I was beaten up by my drug supplier, or B) I didn’t go to the police because my attackers no longer existed, so what would be the point?

“Whoever you’re protecting, Ash, they don’t deserve your protection,” said Ms. Metts, and Benson agreed.

I realized that the more I denied it, the more it would sound like I was in denial. So I shut them down. Shut them out.

“This is my business,” I told them. “I’m taking care of it, and I’d appreciate it if you left me [the fuck] alone.” I left the profanity implied rather than spoken, since it was the principal, after all. Then I turned and left. For a brief moment I thought I could put it behind me. But the dots were already connected.