Chaz barely manages to cry out, “Weese,” before he takes the second, in the gut, and goes into crouch mode, scuttling down the riser to me.

It’s Gordo. And he’s not alone.

Vin Weasel and Red are with him, along with a guy with a dark buzz cut. We’re outnumbered two to one. They’re all in their prom attire, minus the bowties as if they’d just stopped by for a quick gay-bashing on the way. There are no more rocks in their hands, but their eyes promise awful things to come.

“Hey, you little faggots!” Gordo spits the word out and chases it with one just for me, “Maricones!” He and his crew form a phalanx, a wall between the school and us. “You think you could do that here, and nobody would notice? Nobody would care?”

“We’re not doing anything,” I say, as lame an answer as possible.

Vin Weasel’s smirk is terrible. “Um, just seconds ago, you were sucking face on top of the effin bleachers.”

Chaz is too quick. “So you came to take your turn?”

Gordo crosses the empty space between us and lifts Chaz to full height by the collar of his shirt. “Say that again, fag.”

I’m on my feet, trying to pry my future father’s hands off Chaz’s neck, then Red and Buzz Cut are on me, pulling me away and tossing me to the grass. Apparently, I’m less of a concern than Chaz because Gordo has him in a headlock, and Vin has his arms pulled back to keep him from wriggling away.

“You’ve been flaunting your fairy ass at this school, and all the girls treat you like you’re special when we know you’re just a dirty homo.” Chaz doesn’t struggle, doesn’t speak. He looks only at me.

I try to stand up but Red immediately shoves me back into sitting position to witness the scene.

Gordo’s face is close to Chaz’s, forcing Chaz to look him in the eye, their noses as close as if they are seconds away from their own kiss. “You disgust me.” He turns to me. “Like one fairy wasn’t enough, you turn up, ruin things between me and my girl, and now you want to prance around holding hands. Not gonna happen.” Buzz Cut grabs my collar to make sure I understand I’m not going anywhere.

Chaz remains absolutely still, but his eyes are telling me: run, get someone, help.