Page 83 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“Excuse me,” a familiar voice said.
She turned and saw one of the Song sisters standing there.
“Hey!” Mindy said, making sure her tone was friendly. “Hope, right?”
The girl narrowed her eyes. “No. I’m Faith.”
“Oh! Sorry. What can I do for you?”
“I don’t like this,” Faith said, holding out a leather jacket that had a textured pattern of tight diamonds. “It’s ugly.”
“I brought that from home!” Mindy said in shock. She’d had to beg her sister to borrow it.
“I don’t want it,” Faith replied, tossing the jacket at the vacant chair. “I’ll bring something better.”
“As long as it’s black,” Mindy said, her face burning. “Listen, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. I’m worried that—” She glanced toward the stage. “—maybe somebody told you things about me that aren’t true.”
“You mean my boyfriend?” Faith said.
Mindy stared in shock. “You’re dating Troy?”
Faith made a face, like she was being dense. “Yeah, of course. That’s why he’s here.”
“You invitedhimto audition?” she asked in disbelief.
Faith rolled her eyes, turned toward the rack, and took a different jacket without asking permission. “This will do for now,” she said. And without another word, she walked away.
Mindy watched her go. Then she looked down at the photo she still held—a photo she didn’t actually need but still kind of wanted—and wondered why her life had to be so complicated.
CHAPTER 14
March 19th, 1993
Detention wasn’t so bad. Anthony would rather be hanging out with his friends after school, or making out with his boyfriend, but he’d been using the hour to catch up on homework. Including the articles he wrote for journalism. He already had enough music reviews done to get him through the rest of the year, which was a reminder of the absolute worst part of detention: the person who watched over them.
He glanced up and felt the same surge of guilt he always did when seeing Mr. Finnegan seated behind the desk. Not the chair in his own classroom, which would have no doubt been more convenient and preferable to him. He was deprived of even that comfort, since this assignment was clearly intended to punish him. The generic classroom they were seated in was soulless, not offering anything but the most generic school posters. There wasn’t even a window. No blue sky, no afternoon sunlight. Just a suffocating silence that made time seem to crawl by.
Anthony quickly returned his attention to his work when Mr. Finnegan glanced up. He listened to a chair scrape across the floor and the clearing of a throat.
“I have to use the restroom,” Mr. Finnegan said. “I trust you can keep things civil in my absence?”
“Of course,” Anthony told him before looking over at Graham Fowler, who had chosen a desk on the opposite side of the room. Which suited him just fine. Graham only responded with a half-hearted shrug.
“I’ll be right back,” Mr. Finnegan said to Anthony directly, as if wanting to reassure him. Which only increased the heavy guilt that lined his stomach.
This was, thankfully, the last day that he’d have to share detention with Graham. A perk to Principal Preckwinkle giving the jerk a lesser sentence, even though the injustice of it still stung. But hey, at least they could go back to despising each other from a distance after today.
“What are you looking at, fag?” Graham said, having noticed his stare.
Anthony rolled his eyes. “I don’t get it.”
“What?”
“The reason you hate me so much. Why does it matter to you that I’m gay?”
“It’s gross,” Graham grunted. “And wrong.”
“Says who?”
