Dr. Sharma hesitated before answering. “I’d need parental consent.”
Ricky felt a lump in his throat. “My mom won’t agree to it. She never wants me to see him again.”
“He would needhismother’s permission, actually,” Dr. Sharma said. “Unless he seeks emancipation from her.”
“Is there a form for that?” Ricky muttered. “Because I’m ready to fill it out. For myself.”
“Would you really want to?” Dr. Sharma asked without any judgement in her voice.
“No,” Ricky admitted. He loved his mom.
Even though, at the moment, he didn’t like her very much.
— — —
For the past week, Anthony had begun each journalism class with hope in his heart. Today was no exception. So when Mr. Finnegan entered the classroom and said his name, he went rigid with anticipation.
“Could I speak with you a moment?” his teacher asked before casting a cold gaze over the classroom. “Outside, please. The rest of you, review the assignments you’re about to turn in. Pretend your career depends on the results, because your grades certainly do.”
Anthony felt uneasy as he stood. Mr. Finnegan’s tone was unusually firm. And when they stepped into the hallway, his teacher didn’t offer a reassuring smile. Instead he continued walking down the hall, forcing Anthony to follow. He was wondering if he was being taken to the principal’s office when Mr. Finnegan finally stopped in front of a window, which he stared out of without explanation.
“This is about my article, isn’t it?” Anthony asked.
Mr. Finnegan sighed, his attention on the cloud-filled sky. “When I warned that you might face backlash, I expected it to be from other students, not fully-grown adults. Although I only have myself to blame. I really should have known better.”
Anthony’s stomach sank. “That’s okay,” he said.
“It’s really not!” Mr. Finnegan’s pale blue eyes were unusually intense as they locked onto his own. “I went to bat for you. Repeatedly. But small minds rarely leave small towns.” He shook his head before returning his attention to the world outside the window.
Anthony took the opportunity to stare at his teacher. The silver hair suited him. He struggled to imagine what Mr. Finnegan must have looked like when his age, but he was probably handsome. For an older guy, he still was. Even while clenching his jaw repeatedly.
“What if I did some rewrites?” he asked.
“It wouldn’t make a difference. The topic has been deemed too controversial and is now banned from the school newspaper.”
Anthony scowled. “What about me? Am I banned too?”
“Certainly not!” Mr. Finnegan snapped, but his anger seemed to be directed elsewhere. “Nobody has that power, thank goodness.”
Anthony swallowed. “And my music reviews? This month I intentionally chose bands that have gay members, to go along with my coming out article. Are the 4 Non Blondes banned too?”
Mr. Finnegan tensed before responding, his expression apologetic when he turned to Anthony. “You won’t be allowed to reference anyone’s sexual orientation. No matter the overarching subject matter.”
“That’s fucked up!” Anthony snarled before catching himself.
“I agree. Enough that I nearly tendered my resignation.”
“You were going to quit?” Anthony asked in shock. “Don’t do that! You’re one of the only teachers I actually like.”
“The sentiment is appreciated, but I feel as though I’ve failed you.”
“Just because some dumb school board or whoever hates gay people?” Anthony shook his head. “That’s not your fault. I’m surprised you even care.”
“I do.” Mr. Finnegan’s expression softened as he searched Anthony’s face. “I care deeply. And I support you. Not all teachers, and certainly not all adults, have such uninformed opinions. I’m sorry you have to go through this. Your article deserves to be seen. With that in mind, I do have some contacts with other papers in the area.The Pitch Weekly, for instance, and I know an editor atThe Kansas City Star. You could try your luck with them and potentially reach a wider audience.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Anthony said without enthusiasm. The numbers mattered to him less than the intended audience. He wanted his peers to know that he wasn’t ashamed. And for those still in the closet, he wanted them to realize they weren’t alone. Especially when dealing with the same homophobic bullshit he was going through. “So is Graham Fowler going to get the same lecture?”
“Who?” Mr. Finnegan asked.