Chaz makes the world’s softest possible “mm-hmm” of doubt, but not actually soft enough for Gordo to miss. Gordo grips Chaz by the shoulder, his meaty fingers forming a vise, but his voice remains cheerful as if he’s telling a great joke. “You know what I have against homos, Chaz? MY HAND!” He busts out a hearty laugh at his own line, and Ma Elena is mortified.

“I’ll take him away before he makes the whole school look bad. See you later, Leez?”

Leeza nods at her and looks at me. Tawny stares at her meal and Chaz has become an obelisk. His face is dead neutral, and his violet eyes are focused far beyond this room.

I’m the one who breaks the silence. “What an asshole!”

Released from the spell, Tawny begins a long list of grievances about Gordo. Leeza laughs and squeezes my hand, making it clear that she appreciates my response. Only Chaz remains silent.

Leeza explains, “First rule of First Secondary: You can’t listen to Gordo. He’s all bark. He lashes out at whatever he doesn’t understand. Which is a lot.”

Still nothing from Chaz. I’m dying. I want to help, so I lie. Write the future I wish for him.

“You’ll get your revenge. Trust me. When you move to New York and make a fabulous life for yourself and age flawlessly and come back for your high school reunion with a total hunk on your arm and Gordo is all old and fat—”

Chaz flees. Like, flees. He’s out of his seat so fast, leaving his tray behind, that I think I’ve missed something.

Tawny is doing a stunning deer-in-headlights impression, and Leeza looks furious.

“Why would you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Mock him like that!”

“Mock him?! I was trying to help!”

“ ‘Fabulous’ and ‘flawless’?” Her imitation of my voice is cruel—I don’t think I really sound that queeny, but maybe the bar for queeny is different in 1985. “You’re as bad as Gordo.”

“I—I was trying to be supportive—to let him know it’s okay.”

“At First Secondary?”

“Or anywhere?” This from Tawny. “He has a girlfriend, you know.”

This is news to me.

Leeza murmurs, “Ignore him, Tawny.”

The news only gets worse. Tawny scoops up her tray and Chaz’s too. “We’ve been together since tenth grade!”

Damage control—I need some and fast. I try to pop the balloon of tension I’ve just made. “My gaydar sucks. Everyone says so … back home.”

“Your what?”

“Gaydar … like radar for telling who’s gay and who’s straight.”

Tawny relaxes a little, curious. “Why would anyone need that?” She sets down their trays.

“Where I’m from, there are more gay kids at school.” Oh my god, their faces. “It’s like normal to be nice to them.”

Leeza looks intrigued. “In Connecticut?”