She gives me a soft pat on the back, and something about the way she talks and moves and touches me makes me want to scream PLEASE BE MY MOM! Even though I have a perfectly fine mom. A great mom, in fact! But instead of any of that, I clear my throat and scoot out of her seat.

I’ve never actually told Ms. Jennings how awesome I think she is, because what’s the fun in truly sharing your feelings with adult humans? And maybe the thought of graduating and not seeing her every day makes my throat clam up in a gross way. Anyway. Moving on.

I take my place on the last row with Kyle, the other baritone. Except I’m not just a baritone. I’m a tenor too, but Kyle doesn’t have the range and his baritone is too weak to carry. So one day, back during sophomore year, Ms. Jennings discreetly pulled me aside after class and asked if I wouldn’t mind spreading my talents to the baritone section, since we lost a few seniors. I, very smugly, have treasured that day for the last two years of my life.

“So,” he says while Ms. Jennings takes attendance. “Did you send your video in?”

I scoff. “Uh, no. Really, it was a joke.”

With all the fake sincerity in the world, Kyle touches my arm. “Waylon, you could really make it. Can you imagine? A kid from Clover City on one of the biggest drag shows in the world?”

“I’m not a drag queen,” I tell him. “That show is for, like, professionals. I was annoyed by who won and wanted to make my own little video. I was messing around.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he says. “You know what I think? I think you’re really brave for putting yourself out there like that. You know, I used to be . . . bigger too, and it’s not easy for people like us.”

“Um, okay.”

Ah, yes. How could I forget? During the summer between eighth grade and freshman year, Kyle lost seventy pounds working out day in and day out at Motion, the circuit gym for middle-aged women . . . and Kyle, apparently. He was such a success that the owner of Motion bought a billboard to display his before-and-after pictures. Most kids would have been mortified, but stupid, genuine Kyle treated it like a victory lap and used it as his platform to win student body vice president for three years in a row now.

“Just think about it,” he tells me earnestly. “Have a little faith in yourself, because I sure do.”

Alex turns around and squeezes Kyle’s hand briefly as Ms. Jennings calls for our attention.

We get it! You’re both very happy!

We cycle through warm-ups and our graduation performance songs, and right before the bell rings, Kyle raises his hand beside me. “Um, yes, Ms. Jennings, could I make an announcement?”