"Dad, he didn't do anything wrong," Faith insisted. "We were carrying our trays over to where we normally sit at lunch and the other boys just started shoving him."
"Knocked all my food to the ground," Zeke grumbled.
I reached back to clasp his leg. "Does that mean you haven't eaten anything all day?" I asked.
"Faith gave me some Pop Tarts on the bus and I hadn't eaten all of them, so I had the rest in the principal's office," he admitted.
So I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Emily, telling her that I was taking Zeke up to our place. Next, I texted Cy, asking if he could make up something for the kids real fast. Then I dropped my phone back in the cup holder.
"Did you hit them back?" I asked.
Zeke's eyes dropped to his left, then the boy shook his head. "No. I was holding my lunch tray, so I couldn't. Mom also says that I shouldn't get in fights at school, but I couldn't make them stop."
"I shoved at the biggest one," Faith told me.
"That's my girl," I praised. "Now that the custody hearing is over, you won't get in trouble for fighting back. I don't even care if you're fighting back for Zeke. Do you understand me, Faith?"
"That sometimes it's okay to break the rules if we're doing it to protect someone else?" she asked.
I gave her a proud smile. "Exactly. The same way I expect Zeke to help you if your bullies pick on you. So long as you two are doing it for the right reasons - and Iwillbelieve you - then you won't get in trouble."
"Mom usually grounds me," Zeke said.
"This time she isn't," I promised. "I already talked to her for you, and she has been worried about you all day long. In fact, she wanted to come and pick you two up so you would know that she wasn't mad, but I told her I'd already promised."
Zeke licked at his lower lip. "I really don't try to get in fights. The problem is that they just won't leave me alone. They are either calling me a fag or saying that I'm a loser. I mean, everyone who goes to church knows that we're broke, and that's just one more thing to pick on me about."
"And you are no longer poor, a loser, or anything else. The word fag sucks, and best friends take care of each other." I took off the emergency brake and put the truck in reverse, backing out of my parking space. "You two are good kids, and so long as you try to do the right thing, I promise that I'll have your back. If that means I need to talk to your mother and explain to her a man's side of things, then I will. I cannot promise that means you won't get in trouble, but I also have a feeling that the two of you aren't quite as good as you pretend to be around us."
"Well, mostly as good," Zeke said, but he no longer sounded like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
As I drove the kids back home, Faith turned in her seat to talk to Zeke, apologizing that she didn't help more. Zeke kept telling her it was okay, but Faith clearly had no interest in being the weak and helpless little girl. In all honesty, it made me a little proud. It also reminded me of how Ash had said she needed to learn to punch.
And then Zeke said the very last thing I would've expected. "I think I just need to come out at school. If I do that, then when they call me a fag, I can say they're right."
"But it'll just be proof that they were right in beating you up," Faith pointed out. "I mean, that's what they'll say. If they know you like guys for real, they'll try to say they hit you because you were hitting on them."
"So?" Zeke asked. "Then, if they say something like that, I can hit on him. Fuck them if they don't like it." He stopped hard, sucking in a breath.
I just chuckled, because I knew it was the profanity that he was waiting to get in trouble for. "So your big plan is to tell everyone you're gay and then flirt with them if they have a problem with you being gay?" Keeping my eyes on the road, I just nodded. "I have a feeling they definitely wouldn't expect that."
"You don't think I should do it, huh?" he asked.
"I think you should come out whenever you're ready," I told him. "I think it has been a lot harder than I expected to do it myself. I also think that it's not fair for you to have to pretend to be something you aren't." I looked in the rearview mirror, catching his eyes. "In other words, my advice is to do what you think you're ready for. It's no one else's decision but yours."
"But they're gonna call him names, Dad," Faith insisted.
"Probably," I agreed. "That's what people do when they're scared. No, I am not saying it's right. I'm saying that it will happen, and Zeke is the only person who can decide if and when he is ready for that. If he is, then good for him. Every single person at Southwind will stand behind him. If he's not then that's okay too. Every single person at Southwind will still stand behind him."
But in the back of my head, I'd just decided that these kids were definitely going to need to learn how to throw a punch. Both of them. So, when I pulled up to Southwind, I sent them to the kitchen to get something to eat and then knocked on the door to the guest suite. Cy set a pair of plates on the breakfast bar and then shot me a confused look. I just lifted a finger and waited for someone to tell me I could come in.
Instead, Darnell opened the door. "Luke?" he asked.
I tipped my head inside, so he stepped back. Inside the living room area of the guest suite, Cessily was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by paperwork and manila folders. Her laptop was open in front of her, her pen was in her mouth, and her hair was up in an adorable messy bun.
"She's working," Darnell explained.
"It's actually you I need to talk to," I told him. "Both of those kids need to learn how to throw a punch. Zeke got into another fight at school today and Faith didn't know how to stop the guys shoving at him. Zeke's hands were full, and he had no clue what to do about it. On top of that, the boy's talking about coming out."
