I turn to look for the doughnuts and lock eyes with PJ who is pouring himself a cup of lemonade. PJ drops his cup, and it spills all over the table and on top of the doughnuts. Tillie jumps into action, grabbing paper towels from a broom closet.
“PJ, don’t you worry about this one bit,” she says. “I’ve got you covered. Oh, my, these doughnuts will have to go. Suzi, sweetheart, can you bring me another box of doughnuts? They are in the bottom left drawer of my desk.”
Suzi gets up begrudgingly, fetches the doughnuts, and gives them to Tillie. PJ turns his back to the room and uses paper towels to mop up the mess. He pats himself dry while whispering conspiratorially with Suzi. Paul laughs loudly next to me, and I know my face must look like a Red Delicious apple. Latica locks eyes with the floor tiles while everyone else looks around wondering what the hell is going on. A boy I don’t know grabs several of the fresh powder-white doughnuts. He stuffs one in his mouth and claps PJ on the back.
“Gurl, graceful you are not. I wouldn’t recommend wearing heels with those moves.”
Now, it’s PJ’s turn to blush. Wow, he looks so adorable, and all I want to do is run over and hug him. I want to take off his wet shirt and pat him dry with paper towels.
Stop it, Simon! Don’t go there, not now, I tell myself.
Tillie puts on her metaphorical teacher hat and takes back control of the room.
“All right, you crazy kids, enough. Let’s get everyone back to the circle. It’s only spilled lemonade. It’s not that exciting. Okay, so where were we? Oh, yes, we were talking about the Pride bake sale. Toni, you said you can make a batch of rainbow-colored cupcakes?”
“Sure, no problem.”
“Good, that will be perfect,” Tillie continues. “But…tell you what, let’s circle back around to the bake sale in a bit. Since we have some new members, let’s go around the room and say our name, preferred pronouns, and a little bit about ourselves and why we are here. I’ll start. My name is Tillie. I’m the drama teacher, and I’m also the faculty sponsor for our Gay-Straight Alliance. Remember, you don’t have to be gay or straight to be here; you just have to be you. I identify as she/her. I am straight. Though…I did have a phase in college… But I probably shouldn’t tell you about that! Let me simply say that it was the seventies, my lovelies.”
She snickers, and everyone laughs along with her, including PJ.
“I’m currently married to my second husband, Roy, but we will see how that goes.”
I make eye contact with PJ and smile. He stops laughing and looks away from me. It makes me want to cry, and I wipe my eyes in case they are watery.
“Okay, Toni, you’re next,” Tillie says.
Toni leans forward and puts her elbows on her knees.
“Hi, I’m Toni. My pronouns are she/her. Um, yeah, I don’t know what to say. I like girls. Yeah, that’s all. I like girls.”
“Toni, don’t you want to tell everyone something more about yourself?” Tillie says.
Toni stares at her vacantly so Tillie moves on to the boy who told PJ not to wear heels.
“Hey, I’m Cisco, but you all know that. I love life, and I love everyone. As Hedwig once said, Try and tear me down. As for pronouns, I prefer he/they, but honey, you can call me anything you like, as long as you don’t call me late to dinner.”
Cisco’s line about dinner is a bit clichéd, but I’m curious as to who this Hedwig person is. I vibe with the “try and tear me down” phrase. Is Hedwig a student at this school or possibly even someone in this club? The girl sitting next to Cisco goes next.
“Hi, I’m Lola. You can refer to me by she/her. I’m a social justice warrior and a straight ally. I’m here for each and every one of you. After this meeting, I will give every one of you my number. Call me anytime, day or night. Cisco is my friend, and they are fabulous! Harvey Milk is my personal hero. It’s a tragedy that there are only nine people here in this room. I know there are other queer people in this school, and they won’t come to this group. That’s bullshit! I can’t even get my straight brothers and sisters in this loco school to see the injustice that is right before their eyes. They need to be a part of this group. Outreach is my focus, and I promise to do better.”
“Thank you, Lola, but please watch the language. After all, we are still on school grounds,” Tillie chides. “Okay, Frankie, you’re next. Tell us something about you.”
“Hello, I’m Frankie. I’m genderqueer and nonbinary. My pronouns are they/them. I want to say that I believe in this group and I’m truly grateful to Tillie for hosting it for all of us. I get lonely sometimes. Truthfully, I get lonely a lot, and this group helps me. It makes a difference.”
Lola reaches over and squeezes Frankie’s hand. It’s a sweet gesture during a tender moment.
“Okay, since we are being real, my name is PJ. My pronouns are he/him. I’m gay but being gay has not always been a cakewalk for me. I came out in eleventh grade. My parents know and haven’t thrown me out of the house or anything as extreme as that, but they won’t let me talk about it. Like, never. They think I should keep it to myself. Even when my best friend, Larry, beat me up last year, they didn’t want to hear about it. He messed me up so badly I had to go to the hospital for a broken nose, three cracked ribs, and twelve stitches.”
Lola bursts into tears and rushes to hug PJ. “I’m here for you,” she says. “I will fight for you.”
PJ peels himself from Lola’s embrace and continues. “Why did Larry beat me up? He beat me up because I wrote him a letter and told him I liked him. He waited for me after school and ambushed me. I’m assuming several of you remember Larry. If you’re wondering whatever happened to him, well, he went to a juvenile detention center for a while and now goes to a new school. He still lives in the area, and I live in fear he will come over to my house and try to hurt me again. My parents think this was my fault and have basically told me so. Larry had been part of my group of friends since junior high. Now, none of them will talk to me. They blame me for getting Larry sent away to the detention center. So yeah, I’m gay, but it hasn’t been the most positive experience for me so far. I’m grateful to Suz here, who has picked up the slack and been more of a friend to me than my old crew. On that happy note, Suz, I love you, and I guess you’re next.”
“I’m Suzi. I know I don’t look like my name, but I like the juxtaposition. I’m PJ’s friend and no one, I mean no one, is ever going to hurt him again.” Suzi turns to look straight at me and glares. Narrowing her eyes and curling her lip, she doesn’t break eye contact. I shift my weight in my seat, look away, and scratch at my skin.
Tillie, sensing trouble, steps in. “Thank you, PJ, for being so brave and sharing your story with everyone. Suzi, I’m sure you are a good friend to PJ. Are you comfortable saying your pronouns and why you are here?”
Suzi folds her hands across her chest, finally looking away, and says, “She/her. I’m a straight ally.”
