The noise from the other side of the curtain continued to grow; the rest of the school was getting settled in the auditorium. Héctor watched as Sal tucked farther into the shadow by the wall to stay hidden from Mike and Frank.

This has to work, Héctor thought.

He stepped forward and walked to center stage.

A single beam of light popped on above him and showered down, casting a perfect circle around Héctor, illuminating him and his outfit.

He had the red flannel tied around his waist, the same one he’d stuffed back into his closet weeks ago. His black denim cutoffs looked perfect with his brown boots and the black tank top.

Héctor’s two bullies crept toward him, glee and hunger on their faces.

He was done dressing how other people wanted him to. He had tried so hard to be what these boys wanted: Quiet. Obedient. Small. Normal.

No more.

It was time for Héctor to step into a starring role.

And it was the role of a lifetime:

He was going to be himself.

Héctor raised his hands up. “You got me,” he said.

Mike stalked up to him, his face just inches from Héctor’s. “Why you gotta be so dramatic, Heck-tor? Is it because you just can’t help it?”

Frank snickered.

“Yes,” said Héctor. “I truly can’t help it. This is who I am.”

“We don’t like your kind around here,” Frank said, and it was like the words slithered out of his mouth.

“What kind would that be?” Héctor asked. “Just . . . humor me.”

Mike squinted at Héctor, then looked to Frank. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Well, I just don’t understand what my ‘kind’ is.”

Mike began to circle around Héctor, confusion spreading over his face. “Yo, this is gay,” said Mike.

“Yes, it is!” exclaimed Héctor. “Is that what you mean? You don’t like that kind of person?”

“I don’t,” Mike said forcefully. “You’re weird. Unnatural.”

That stung Héctor a bit, but this improvised play was just getting good. He had to go further into the role, to let the harmful things Mike and Frank said slide off him.

Frank hovered behind Mike. “Yeah,” he said. “Do you have a crush on us? Is that why you’re so annoying? I bet you do.”

“I bet when he goes home, he dreams about us,” added Mike.

“Freak.”

“Loser.”

“Weirdo.”

Then Mike put his nose against Héctor’s, as he had done before.

Héctor tried his best not to back up, not to show Mike how terrified he was.

“I know exactly what you are,” said Mike.

He smiled.

And then he said the word.

Again.

He said it with confidence. He meant both syllables.

His smile grew wider.