Page 51 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“Thanks.”
Waiting for Omar to read the article had been hard enough, but he supposed that was how the writing business went. Lots of waiting and wondering. Anthony was walking to his desk when he noticed Ricky standing by the door while waving him over.
“What’s up?” Anthony asked when joining him.
“I can’t come to your birthday party this weekend,” Ricky said with an apologetic expression. “I begged and begged.”
“Being grounded sucks,” Anthony said in sympathy.
“I guess that’s what happens when you accidentally get your mom stoned,” Ricky replied. “Here. I got you something.”
He handed Anthony a gift-wrapped square that was unmistakably a CD. “Exciting!” he said, tearing the paper off. “Oh. The B-52s.”
“You should play that at your party,” Ricky suggested. “It’ll bring the house down.”
“I mean, ‘Love Shack’isa fun song,” Anthony said without making any promises.
“The rest is good too,” Ricky said. “You’ll see. There are some really weird songs on there.”
“You know I like weird,” Anthony said. “Thanks! How’s uh… everything else going?”
“It sucks,” Ricky moaned. “I was finally getting somewhere with Diego and then this happens.” He glanced around, as if making sure they had privacy. “I love him. And I think he loves me back.”
“Wow,” Anthony said, not hiding his surprise. “I thought I knew him, but maybe not.”
“Nothing stays the same,” Ricky said. “Even people.”
“I’m happy for you. Really.”
“Thanks. I wish my parents felt that way. They don’t want me to see him anymore.”
Anthony elbowed him playfully. “That only makes it hotter.”
Ricky covered his mouth and giggled. “I guess so!”
The bell rang, cutting their conversation short. “You can still call people, even though you’re grounded, right?” Anthony asked on their way back into the classroom.
“I wish. Even if I could, I’d be dead if my mom picked up the phone and heard me talking to Diego.”
“That sucks. Maybe we can teach some pigeons to bring messages back and forth for us.”
“I’ve been trying to learn telepathy,” Ricky said, pressing his fingers to his temples and squinting. “Anything?”
“Afraid not,” Anthony said. “Back to the drawing board.”
They sat at separate tables as class began. After a lecture, Mr. Finnegan asked them to practice writing inquiries. Anthony was working on his when he looked up and saw Mr. Finnegan reading the article he’d handed in. Intimidating! And yet, he couldn’t stop checking on him. At first his teacher’s face turned pink. Maybe he was uncomfortable with the subject matter. Although he soon began nodding. That had to be a good sign! Mr. Finnegan glanced up at him, so Anthony hurriedly bowed his head and returned to work, wanting to show that he could still complete his assignments in addition to writing other things. Class went on as normal. Mr. Finnegan didn’t leap to his feet and insist on reading the article to everyone. Not that Anthony would have minded. He was packing up his things at the end of the period when his name was called.
“Do you have a moment?” Mr. Finnegan asked.
“Sure.”
He was surprised when his teacher shut the classroom door once they were alone.
“You have a real gift,” Mr. Finnegan said. “Anyone who reads this will be able to relate on some level, no matter who they are. We’ve all been treated unfairly, or judged unkindly. However, not everyone will read this article to its end. Many will stop at the rather provocative headline.”
I’m gay. So what?Anthony had chosen the title carefully for that reason. He wanted to make his point up front.
“Is it too confrontational? Should I rewrite?”
