Twenty-Seven
Gabi
Tuesday evening, I get an email through the student portal telling me to report to the principal’s office Wednesday morning before homeroom. It kinda sucks that they couldn’t just explain everything in the email, but given that I’m the delinquent in this situation, I acknowledge it’s not my place to push my luck.
When I get to her office fifteen minutes before homeroom, Mrs. Perkins just motions for me to sit and says, “We’re waiting for someone.”
True to her word, when Melissa gets to the principal’s office to answer for my crimes—selling stuff on school property, misusing classroom space, and disrupting class under the guise of Homecoming businesses as evidenced by the FAQs on our website—she listens patiently to the accusations before deadass looking me straight in the eye and saying, “Gabi did that?! I can’t believe it!”
But apparently the principal can believe it just fine, because she completely buys into Meli’s performance about how it’s such a great betrayal to have your best friend break school rules behind your back and whatever.
Mrs. Perkins turns to me and says, “Lady told us she entrusted the room to you for Homecoming purposes, and she had no idea you were violating school rules. So what do you have to say for yourself, Gabi?”
“I—I’m really sorry. I was desperate, and I just—I’m sorry.”
And I expect her to tell me that she hears a thousand and one sob stories a day, and she’s perfectly content with expelling me, but she just leans back in her seat and heaves a deep sigh. “Everyone’s looking forward to the big game, and I don’t want this to interfere with the festivities, so you’ll serve a week of in-school suspension, starting next week. And, of course, your parents will be informed.”
A bubble of dread surfaces in my mind as I think about having to justify my rule-breaking to my parents, but then I realize how mild that is compared to what could’ve happened. “I—wait, are you serious?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with it?”
I shake my head rapidly. “No, no, that’s fine. I’ll serve my sentence.”
“This better not happen again, you hear me?”
I nod. “I promise.”
I get up and head for the door before she speaks again.
“And one more thing.”
I pause, slowly turning back to face her.
“It looks like this was a pretty elaborate scheme. Did you really do it all on your own, or did you have help?”
And I swallow. “No, no help. It was just me.”
She stares back at me for a moment, like she’s not sure she believes me, before finally nodding and looking away.
Meli and I are dismissed with five minutes to get to homeroom, but the second we’re out in the hallway, I no longer care about getting to class on time.
I know Meli told me this was exactly what would happen if I screwed up, and it’s pretty clear that it was my fault for screwing up, but I’m still angry. Maybe not so much at Meli or Theo or Justin, but maybe more at my dad. Or maybe more at myself.
Either way, I stop Meli in the hallway, and she turns to me with a disgusted look that churns my stomach.
“What?” I say.
“Don’t fuck with me, Gabi. I’m sick of your shit.”
“My shit?” I snap. “You’ve been a really terrible friend lately. Even besides throwing me to the wolves just now—”
“I’ve been a crappy friend?” she says. “Please! You put the whole Homecoming Committee in jeopardy because of your selfish little stunt. And that’s before we even get into what a shit friend you’ve been to me personally.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there and pretend you weren’t shit-talking me with Vivi?” she says. The words hit me like a slap across the face, and I don’t know what my expression looks like, but it’s obviously enough to convince her she’s right. “Yeah, Meli’s so uptight. Meli’s ruining everything! At least I didn’t put all our work at risk to go chase some guy.”
“I wasn’t chasing a guy,” I say, the words blowing through my teeth, but it doesn’t matter. She knows how low that comment was, and she did it on purpose. To hurt me.
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I have a lot of work to do after all the trouble you’ve caused.”
I can’t bring myself to say anything else as she turns and heads to homeroom.
Getting through the day is . . . hard. And not just because I have to spend most of it just trying to avoid Theo and Justin and Meli, and really, everyone on the Homecoming Committee, since I have to assume Meli already told them that I’m a traitor. It’s just hard to focus on anything besides the pain in my chest, and the anger coursing through me.
And as the day stretches on and finally ends, and I slowly make my way back to the student parking lot, I finally settle on a truth I’ve been avoiding for as long as possible.
The person I’m angriest at is myself.
I slam the car door shut behind me, throwing my head flat against the steering wheel. I accidentally smack against the horn, a loud beep tearing through the parking lot and all eyes turning to me.
And God, I deserve it. I deserve to be put on display, to be called out for all the things I did wrong in my own selfishness.
I betrayed Meli’s trust because I was scared of losing the shop. I hurt Theo because I was scared of my parents finding out I’m gay. I screwed up Justin’s relationship because I was scared our sales would suffer if he was distracted by Clara.
I manage to keep from crying until I’m pulling up into the driveway. Then I let it all out, clutching my seat belt as tears race down my cheeks, knowing that I have to get through all these twisting emotions before I face my dad, because he’ll never allow it.
Once the tears stop, I take a deep breath as I go through the motions. Unbuckle my seat belt. Breath. Turn off the car. Breath. Open the door. Breath.
Finally, my book bag is slung over my shoulder and my feet carry me to the front door.
My parents sit in the living room, which just reminds me once again that everything is wrong. They shouldn’t both be home so early. Someone should be at the shop.
But the shop sells this weekend, so of course they don’t care about that.
And just like that, I’m crying again.
I rush to wipe the tears away, but my parents stare back at me with wide eyes.
“Gabi?” my mom says, but my dad’s eyes narrow as she stands up and walks over to me, taking my hands in hers. “What is it, mijo?”
I pull away from her, ready to race to my room and not look back, but I can’t bring myself to move. I want to run, but I can’t. I don’t think I’ll be able to survive the weight of the guilt if I run again.
Finally, I suck in a breath and say, “Theo’s not a bad guy.”
My mom scrutinizes me for a moment before turning to my dad. I’m sure he told her about what happened, but I don’t doubt he framed it as Theo being predatory or aggressive or some other terrible thing he associates with gay people.
But I kind of hate the way she turns to look at him, like this is purely his fault. Yeah, he was the one who completely pushed Theo away, but it’s not like his homophobia began with the cruel words he threw at Theo. Hatred isn’t just in the things a person says. It’s in the way they stay silent when someone else spews hate, the way they nod along or entertain the ideas at all.
My dad may be the more vocal of the two, but it’s not like I don’t feel the same chill down my spine when I see how readily my mom agrees to his shit. And then there’re the little things. The way she never defended my right to do ballet. The way she never told me it’s okay to cry when my dad isn’t around.
The way she still hasn’t said anything about Theo.
She thinks that by letting my dad be the face of their joint disgust, she’s somehow not responsible, but it almost hurts more this way, knowing that she hates me just as much as he does but doesn’t even have the guts to acknowledge it.
Finally, my dad sighs and says, “He’s gay, Gabi.”
“So what?” I shout, and I don’t think I’ve ever screamed louder. My throat already feels raw from just those two words, but I can’t stop. “So that’s it? You thought he was perfect and now you just hate him? Because of who he’s attracted to? Because you think it’s somehow wrong or contagious to live differently than you do?”
“Gabi,” my mom says, but I step back, putting as much distance between us as I can without leaving the room.
“You really hate gay people that much?” I say, tears pouring down my face. “After everything Theo has done for me, you’d really rather shove him away and treat him like crap than accept that he’s gay?”
My parents are silent, and I know something’s about to go down, since they haven’t called me out for my language yet.
My dad crosses his arms and says, “You really want to associate with a boy like that? What do you think people will say?”
“I don’t care!”
“¡Cállate! You don’t know what you’re saying,” my dad snaps. “You know what they do to boys like that, Gabi? We’re just trying to protect you. If you spend time with people like that, people are going to start thinking you’re gay too. You want to go to college? You want a good job? The odds are already stacked against you, mijo. You’re gonna close a lot of doors if you keep doing these things.”
I shake my head. “You want me to deal with bigotry by being bigoted?” I say. “I don’t care what people think about me. I care about—” I pause, sucking in a breath before I say too much. “Theo’s my friend. How can you ask me to turn my back on him to protect myself? Is that really the type of son you want to raise?”
My dad squeezes his eyes shut. I half expect him to stomp over to me and slap me across ...
