“So am I. You promise not to expel the boys, and this will stay our little secret. You can buy time for the happy couple to see their pastor or whatever, and no one has to know what goes on between students and teachers here. I think it’s a fair deal.”

Chaz goes to her. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Need to? Want to. I’m loving it if you haven’t noticed. And it’s done.”

Ableman is just about moaning. “This has all gotten out of hand. I think we need to pray together.”

Frohmeyer looks about six seconds away from a coronary, but Chaz decides if Leeza is stepping up, he should be, too. “Are you a man of your word?”

Warily, the principal nods. “Yes. And?”

“Then suspend me: I’m gay.” He is glowing as he says it. The release of coming out and the pleasure of how transgressive it is to do it here and now! “I should have said that the first time you asked.” I know he’s pining for Ernie, but I could kiss him.

Chaz turns to Leeza. “Truth at a price is still the truth.”

Leeza beams at him. Ms. Silverthorn looks like she has seen it all now, Blue is trying to give birth through the veins in his forehead, and Mr. A—wait. My god, is he jealous?

Frohmeyer has had it. “Fine. You’re all suspended. Blue, go call his folks.” Mr. Blue springs away from the table and darts out of the room like a prisoner freed. There is no tenderness left—the principal eagle-eyes Chaz. “Off the campus today and don’t come for graduation. We’ll mail you your diploma. Ableman, walk him to the dorm. He’s not going back into class.” Is it just me or does Mr. A look too pleased at the prospect?

He turns to me. “You have anything to add?”

“I’m so gay, I almost boomerang back to straight. I did not run around kissing boys all over your lovely, progressive campus, but you should probably suspend me now, before I start. Some of them are cute, sis.”

That is Frohmeyer’s last straw. “Anisha, get them out of here!”

Out of the board room. Out of the hallway. Out of the school.

Dropped out. Kicked out.

Out, out.

Perfect Plan

Perfect Plan

It didn’t take Leeza more than an hour or two to pack, so her folks will be here any time. Chaz was slower, more meticulous, but his parents can’t leave until his dad finishes his shift at work, so it’ll be dark before they arrive. And me? Depending on how you look at it, my parents are either decades away or here in 1985 but useless: one suspended, the other in class.