It took a while for conversation to pick up again. When Denny seemed content to listen, the others grew in confidence until it was like a normal Thursday afternoon.
“LGBTQIA+ history month is coming up,” Macie said, while Lily was using the time to check through her e-mails.
Four of them were excuses from her students for why they were unable to do this week’s homework. Only one seemed valid—she’d be handing out detentions again.
“I thought it might be fun for us to do a session where we each choose a person from history to do a presentation on.” Macie’s gaze flickered to Denny. “Maybe we could all learn something.”
“We could make posters, too,” said Kelly. “Hang them up around school.”
“You could write an article for the school newspaper.” Denny swallowed when everyone turned to look at him. “I know some of the seniors who run it. I wouldn’t be able to write it.” He ran a hand through his hair, his smile wry. “But I could talk to them about it. I doubt they’d say no.”
“Thanks, Denny. That’s a good idea.” Macie looked as surprised to say it as Lily had been to hear the suggestion come from him in the first place. “Maybe we could have a regular column.”
“We could ask them to put in the details for the rummage sale at the end of the month, too,” Hannah said. “The more people we get to come, the more profit we’ll make.”
They chatted among themselves for the remainder of the session, and Lily was glad to see a smile on Denny’s face when he left the room.
There was a matching one on her face, too.
It was good to feel like she was making a difference.
* * *
Eva slung her bag over her shoulder and locked the door to her classroom. Her papers were safely tucked inside, ready for another night of grading sitting in front of the TV with her mother.
She was halfway down the hall when she heard the sound of breaking glass.
“Motherfucker.”
The curse echoed through the hallway, and Eva paused beside Lily’s open door.
“I didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary,” Eva said, and Lily glanced up. She was hunched over at the back of the room cradling a bloodied hand, broken pieces of a conical flask scattered around her feet.
“Are you all right?” Eva said when she studied Lily’s face more closely. She was pale, swaying in place where she crouched.
“Been better.” Lily shifted to lean against the cupboard behind her.
“Let me see.” Eva strode forward, picking her way through the glass in her black ankle boots and extending a hand toward Lily.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not. You’re white as a ghost.”
“I’m not too good with blood.” Lily refused to look at her hand, instead keeping her gaze on Eva’s face.
“What do you do once a month?”
“Power through.”
Eva huffed out a laugh before reaching again for Lily’s hands. Lily winced when Eva uncurled her fingers to reveal the cut: about an inch long, the slice ran down the center of her left palm. “It’s deep,” Eva said, and she grabbed some paper towels from by the sink and pressed them to Lily’s palm to try and stem the bleeding. “Come on, there’s a first aid kit in the teacher’s lounge.”
“You don’t have to help.”
Eva wondered if it was instinct, to resist Eva’s offer. To dig in her heels, so she could lick her wounds in private.
Eva supposed she’d feel that way if their positions were reversed. But Lily had helped her at the weekend, and it was her turn to return the favor.
“What are you going to do if I don’t? You can’t even look at it.”
