“No, I meant for this. Lunch. Going to get it. You didn’t have to do that.” He picks the tuna half up. “How much do I owe you? I don’t have any cash, but I can send you money. Or get cash after school?”
“I told you, Harry. It’s on me. It’s my pleasure. Truly.”
His eyes flit up at me, and then he sinks into the sandwich. “Okay, how did I not know about this place? Sammy’s Sammies?”
“Teachers don’t have time to go out at lunch. With two consecutive lunch periods in the cafeteria, I get a double prep. And it’s always splat in the middle of the day. Sometimes, I walk around. You find things.”
“And sometimes you hang out in the teacher’s lounge, making my life miserable.”
“Harry, I thought we went over this. When a boy teases someone . . .”
“Yeah, yeah, I remember.”
“Is that what this is all about? Are you mad because I razzed you for . . .”
“Years.”
“Well, let me officially apologize.” I set my veggie melt down. “Harry Peterson, I’m sorry I teased you. I wasan immature ass who didn’t know how to express his feelings, so instead I taunted you.”
I take a deep breath. Now’s not the time to hold back.
“It’s like I’m stuck between two worlds. Most people assume I’m straight—probably because of all the sports.”
“And the hat.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t help.” I tug on the brim. “But I’m not. And whenever I try to meet guys at clubs or bars, they don’t really get me either—because of, well . . . the sports.”
“Don’t forget the hat.” A hint of a smile tugs at his lips.
“Do you really hate it that much?”
“No. It’s kind of cute, actually.”
My body relaxes into the chair. “And you, Harry . . . you’re so damn smart. Handsome. You’re into books and theater and all this stuff I know nothing about. And even though you made my insides turn to mush, I was sure someone like you would never give someone like me the time of day.”
“So you teased me.”
“If I could take it all back, I would. I should’ve just told you how I felt from the start.”
Harry chews on my apology—and his lunch.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I say as I stand.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“No, listen. I’m going to walk out of the room and come back in, and we’ll pretend it’s your first day here at Crossroads.”
Before he can object, I’m out the door. Witha quick shake of my shoulders, I walk back in, determined to make this right.
“Hey, there, I’m Darius Hill—PE teacher and peewee hockey coach. What’s your name?”
Harry looks at me like I have ten heads.
“Harry Peterson,” I say. “Nice to meet you.” I retake my seat, leaving my half-eaten sandwich. “I know you’re new here. Maybe we could grab coffee sometime? Let me give you my number.” I grab a pad of sticky notes and a pencil from the little caddy in the middle of the table and jot my cell down. “Here, text me if you have questions about school or whatever. Or call. Welcome to Crossroads!”
Harry dips his chin as his eyebrows rise. He’s not buying it.
“Oh, and I’m gay. Yeah, I know, never would’ve guessed it from the tracksuit and intense interest in sports. And the hat. But I am. Totally gay. Gay, gay, gay. If you don’t believe me, I could dig up a few numbers of guys who could vouch for me.”
