“Bi, I think. But yes.”
Her big brown eyes filled with worry. “So… I think I might be… a lesbian,” she said, her voice dropping off on the last words.
“Okay, Mena. Thank you for trusting me with that. That’s a good thing to know about yourself, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, fidgeting with the strap on her backpack.
“Knowing who you are is the first step in being fully and authentically you. And that is an amazing thing,” I said, smiling warmly.
Her chin wobbled as she shook her head. “My family doesn’t think so.”
That reminded me of an important detail I’d forgotten when she’d walked up to me. Shit. “Oh. Your last name is DeWitt, right?”
Her face flushed red. “Yes, but I’m not anything like my family.”
I held up my hands. “I would be the last person to hold your family’s actions against you. Just so we’re clear on that.” I ran a hand through my hair, empathizing with her predicament. “But I understand a little better why you’d be worried to discover this about yourself.”
“I don’t even care about woodworking, but they said that the shop teacher was gay, and I thought that maybe… I don’t know. Maybe this class would be okay.”
I touched my hand to my heart and wondered if the Lost Boys had ever made Mr. Paige feel this way. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’ll let you in on a little secret: I wasn’t excited about teaching this class until I started doing it.”
“But you like it now?” she asked, looking into my eyes as if she was trying to excavate the truth from my soul.
“I do. And I especially like that students know I’m a safe person to talk to about these things, even if Texas is always trying to ban conversations like this or force us to out you to your parents. You should know I’m a little stubborn.”
She let out a faint laugh. “I am, too.”
“Excellent. I’m happy to be here for you. But you do need to show up on time every day and try your hardest. It’s okay if you’re no good at woodworking, but it’s never okay to give up on yourself.”
Sometimes my advice was useful for me, too.
“Okay,” she said, brightening. “Thanks, Mr. Walker.”
“You’re welcome, Mena. And I promise, you being you is exactly what this world needs.”
Smiling, she sent me a wave as she walked out of the classroom. I packed up for the day, floating on a cloud.
* * *
“Someone looks happy,” Oz said as I stepped into the restaurant. They still had a lot of work to do, but the progress was amazing.
“The first day of school went better than I thought it would. Dr. Gardner was waiting for me when I arrived, and she was super encouraging. Then I had a kid in geometry ask what he should do about a kid on the football team who might be gay, and he really seemed to listen,” I said, shaking my head. “And, right at the end of shop class, another kid came out to me.”
“Shit, Walk. You’ve got to be careful with that,” he said, worry in his eyes.
“You’re right, and I will be. But I was just standing there, and I could hear Mr. Paige’s words in my ear. Like, the stuff the state has us doing for testing makes me wanna pull my hair out, some of the administrators are already on my last nerve, and I don’t even want to talk about the condition of the teachers’ lounge or how tiny my paycheck is. But I helped two kids today. Not just because I was an amazing geometry teacher—which, by the way, I am—or because I’m so good at woodworking. Hint: I’m not.”
Ozzie laughed as he kissed my cheek. “Yes, I’ve seen you.”
“But I’m helping to change minds, Oz. And I get to be there for kids who might not have anybody else to support them. I don’t know, I just didn’t expect it to feel so… I don’t even know what the word is.”
“I do,” he said, tugging on my collar. “Because it’s what I think of when I see you. The word you’re looking for is magical.”
I flushed. “Yeah. Magical.”
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Walk. You’ll be helping kids for decades to come.”
Gesturing at the state of things around us, I responded, “I’m proud of you, too. I think we’re meant to be here in this town, helping it to grow into something better.”
