“What does that mean?” said Mike, and he laughed. “Are you, like, gay or something?”

“Yeah. I am.”

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the hallway. Carlos’s mouth dropped open, and Frank actually took a step back. Why? Héctor wondered. They can’t possibly be surprised by this.

“What did you say?” asked Mike.

“I’m gay. Like . . . literally gay.”

“Bruh,” said Carlos. “What?”

“That’s so . . . so gay,” said Mike.

“Well, yeah, I hope so,” said Héctor, chuckling softly. “Be weird if it wasn’t.”

But they didn’t laugh.

They didn’t smile.

Mike examined Héctor, like he was a specimen in a lab.

“You’re serious,” said Mike.

“I am,” said Héctor. “I thought it was obvious?”

“So . . . are you saying I’m gay because I wanted to be friends with you?”

“What? No!” Héctor held his hands up. “What are you talking about?!”

“Did you say Mike was fine?” Frank said, and he covered his mouth like he was scandalized. “Wow, bro, did you hear that?”

“Shut up, Frank.”

The playful tone in Mike’s voice was gone, and a spike of fear rushed through Héctor’s body. This had never been an issue at Alta Vista. Like a solid third of the theater department wasn’t straight. Was it not like that here in Orangevale?

Everything around him told him this place was different: the wide, flat streets. The boring buildings. The lack of a theater department. And now, especially Héctor’s clothing. He looked down at his lavender pants. Was anyone else here even wearing that color?

That spike of fear became a flood as Mike took an aggressive step forward. Héctor heard the Minions giggle, and he knew that he’d made a mistake. He shouldn’t have said any of that.

“So, you like boys, then.”

And Héctor knew he should have given Mike what he wanted, but when his mouth opened, the following words came out instead:

“Well, not you.”

He immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. Héctor, why did you say that?

But Mike just smiled. It was one of those smiles that didn’t reach his eyes. “Good to know,” he said. “Where you stand, that is.”

He patted Héctor on the arm. “See you around, Heck-tor.”

Frank and Carlos trailed after Mike without another word.

Héctor remained motionless, and Jackson’s words came back to haunt him:

“And then he turns on you.”

Like a light switch. In one moment, Héctor had gone from potential friend to . . . what? What was going to happen next?

The end-of-lunch bell rang, and soon, other kids were bumping into him as he stood in the hallway. He shook himself out of his stupor and headed for art class, his nerves thrumming with energy. Had he just made everything worse?