“Well, for what it’s worth,” said Aishah, “we couldn’t believe that you tried to stand up to Ms. Heath last week. That was so brave, Héctor. No one ever has.”

Now Héctor’s face burned. “Wait, really?”

Taylor nodded. “Bro, I don’t think any of us have ever seen someone survive a double dose of Ms. Heath and Mike before. Like . . . ever. And here you are! You’re like . . . like a dragon or something.”

Héctor had to laugh at that. “A dragon? I wish I breathed fire.”

“Maybe you could roast off Frank’s terrible haircut,” Aishah muttered.

Héctor’s mouth dropped open. “Aishah!” he exclaimed. “That was mean!”

“But am I wrong?” she said. “Who cuts that boy’s hair?”

Carlos laughed. “Actually . . . he does it himself.”

“No!” said Jackson. “No way he does that.”

Carlos nodded. “Yeah, he thinks it makes him look ‘cute’ for the girls.”

“Ugh,” groaned Héctor. “He’s not even in the top one hundred cute boys at this school.”

He didn’t realize what he’d said until the silence spread over the table.

Oh no. What have I done?

But there were no expressions of horror, no shocked faces, no disgust anywhere at the Table of Misfits. Aishah was nodding her head; Jackson looked like he was about to leap over the table and give Héctor a hug; Carlos looked utterly pleased.

And Taylor was doing his best approximation of the heart eye emoji.

Héctor looked down the table.

Pat was staring at him, and he raised his thumb up and nodded.

“Well,” said Héctor. “I’m glad that’s out in the open.”

“Me too,” said Aishah. “You’re not alone, you know that?”

“I guess,” he said. “I’m sorry I never—”

“No, I don’t think you understand her,” said Jackson. “You’re not alone.” He tilted his head over toward Aishah, then pointed at himself.

Héctor’s breath was caught in his throat. “Do you mean—?”

Jackson nodded. “Me. And Aishah.”

“What?” Héctor felt like he couldn’t breathe. “You’re serious?”

“No, I’m queer,” said Aishah, and the whole table—Pat included—burst into laughter.

“And I like boys,” said Jackson. “I don’t know what word works for me, so . . .” He put a hand over his heart. “That’s me.”

Héctor felt like his jaw was on the floor. “Whoa, I had no idea!”

“Well, now you know,” said Aishah. “Two more members of the team—and two supporters in Carlos and Taylor.”

“Most definitely,” said Carlos. “We got your back.”

Taylor flashed a peace sign, a toothy grin on his face. “Best friends, bro.”

As the group fell into conversation and Aishah tried to get him to tell her who he thought the cutest boy was (he wouldn’t tell her), Héctor felt like he could breathe again, like he could be himself, totally and completely.