Naturally, as I am not one to accept defeat, I didn’t so much change my tune as modulate the key. Under the gun, I can adjust really, really quickly to my circumstances, so I asked if it could be allowed. Mrs. Somboon-Fox said she hardly had time to go room-to-room policing class lists, so, in a way, it already was. She wasn’t going to promote it, but I took it upon myself to nudge every teacher I thought might go along. I only got two takers, the school’s oldest and youngest: Ms. Silverthorn (an early adopter by nature, despite being, like, sixty) and Mr. Kuranchabi (who is such a millennial he brings his avocado toast from home). That’s two more teachers than, probably, ever, so it goes on my list of minor victories (though Nix likes to remind me that optional pronouns was their idea all along).

Today is going to be my biggest move yet. I’m going to remove the line on the prom ticket that says your date has to be the opposite sex.

I know. We’re two decades into the twenty-first century and some schools are still buggin’ over a pair of boys wanting to dance together. I mean, we have gay World Cup winners and pop stars and governors now. Gay dads doing corny dances with their kids is a staple of TikTok. And there was even a trans hero on Supergirl. Can you really get more mainstream than that? So you’re asking yourself where the hell I live—is it the Deep South, maybe that town that staged a decoy prom to keep the lesbians away from the real one? Or some former Soviet Republic that sends police to crack down on Pride? No. Antic Springs is in upstate New York. The supposedly liberal northeast. Which only proves what every queer person already knows: prejudice, like fire, can live anywhere there’s oxygen.

This is farm country, so maybe prolonged exposure to, I don’t know, silos, makes people fearful of the gays. The towns here (including mine) are pretty small but always have room for at least three churches, and everyone’s in everyone’s business. There’s no public high school in Antic Springs—if you want that, you have to go to Schuylerhook Regional, which is like a half hour away, with kids from six other towns. We only have the Academy and that cringeworthy code of conduct. So, farm country + old-school rules = no gays at prom. I’m about to change that.

This isn’t just for me and Cheng. There are two more not-exactly-secret queer couples and a few more students who would bring same-sex dates if they could. And even in a small school, we have four kids beyond Nix who use them/they pronouns, so this policy doesn’t just ban them—it ignores they exist. This is about justice! This is about equity! This is about—