Where had he come from? I hadn’t even noticed him until he was there, barreling into Logan like a charging bull. He stood there now, casually pressing Logan against the table as if it was nothing, while the entire cafeteria stared, too stunned to move.
Except one. “This isn’t necessary,” Taylor protested. “It’s just a simple misunderstanding.”
Mr. Harper was unmoved as Logan whimpered. “The principal will be the judge of that. Are you all right, Taylor?”
“Fine. He barely touched me— this is way out of proportion to what happened.”
Mr. Harper grunted. “You. Kid.” He tightened his grip on Logan’s arm. “We are going to stand up and walk very calmly to the principal’s office. Do you understand?” He took Logan’s yelp as affirmation and propelled him out of the cafeteria. Taylor followed, his expression perfectly blank. There was a moment’s stunned silence.
“Oh my god.” Victoria sat back down. “Can you believe—”
There was an explosion of chatter. Jordan picked up Logan’s bag. “Matt, you go tell Coach! I’m going to tell the principal what really happened.”
Fern paused, picking up her spilled notes. “We all saw what happened.”
“He was totally baiting Logan! Trying to get him in trouble— where did that teacher come from anyway?” Jordan grabbed his own bag. “He’s not even a real teacher!”
“You can’t seriously—”
Declan put his hand on Fern’s arm. “Jordan has a great idea,” he said. “I think we should go and make sure that the principal hears exactly what Logan said.”
Jordan caught Declan’s expression belatedly. “Obviously he didn’t mean that. He was just upset— angry. Because Taylor—”
“Taylor,” Christopher said, “who was perfectly calm and civil the entire time? You’re right. It’s time the principal heard a lot of things.”
“But you’re on the football team!” Jordan protested.
“I was on the football team.” Christopher stalked toward the door. Fern, Declan and Jacob were right behind him, Jordan hurried at their heels, protesting that they were taking things entirely the wrong way. There was a second stunned lull and then a maelstrom of activity as everyone reached as one for their bags.
****
We weren’t allowed in the office, but a large crowd lingered in the hall outside, waiting for any developments.
Coach Burns barreled through us, Matt and two other members of the football club at his heels. “Preposterous! My team works hard, gives their all for the school— and this is the thanks they get!” His eye fell on me, and his lip curled. “Now I see where this started. Another one of your scoops, Markopoulos? High time your stupid, little gossip rag was shut down for good.” He slammed the office door behind him.
“Don’t let him get to you, Milo.” Fern had decided that I needed an arm around me and had been standing next to me since she’d first spotted me in the crowd. “With how many people are here to support Taylor and tell the truth, Coach doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Taylor will be fine.”
I managed a weak smile. Fern meant well, but I knew that not everyone in the crowd was on Taylor’s side. The jocks had noticed Fern’s arm and elbowed each other as they snickered.
“I think it’s disgraceful that a student isn’t even safe at school!” Victoria flicked her hair over her shoulder. “That aggressive reaction from someone who isn’t even a real teacher! My parents will be hearing about this.”
There were a few mutters of assent.
“Logan might have been seriously hurt!”
“Serves him right! He was asking for a fight—”
“If you ask me, that man knew exactly what he was doing.” Lily stood at my other side. “He could have hurt Logan, but he didn’t. The way he handled the situation…” Lily drummed her fingers against her folded arm, frowning. “Something about it…”
Before I could ask her what she meant, the office door opened and Principal Kim stepped out. “Now, I’m sure you’re all anxious to know what’s going to happen to your friends,” he said, peering at us over his glasses. “But some serious accusations have been made, and the situation needs an in-depth review. Taylor and Logan will both be going home for the rest of the day.” He raised his voice to be heard over the resulting protest. “I know you’re anxious to tell me what happened, and I want to hear from all of you, but it’s time for class.” He held up a clipboard. “I’m going to ask that everyone who has something they want to contribute to the discussion leave their name on this list, and I’ll do my best to talk to all of you. The rest of you, make your way to your assigned classrooms, please.”
“Where are you going?” Fern asked. “You’re not going to leave your name?”
I shook my head. “Taylor’s got you, Declan, everyone else behind him. He doesn’t need me— and you heard Coach. He’ll object to anything I say. Taylor’s case is stronger without me.”
“You sell yourself short, Milo.” Fern gave me another quick squeeze. “Especially after your article in the paper today. I think the principal will be really interested in what you have to say.”
I smiled weakly. I needed to get my hands on a copy of the paper ASAP, find out just what it was I’d turned in to Candice.
****
School had other plans for me. I was called out of sixth period Spanish to go to the principal’s office.
“Take a seat, Milo.” Principal Kim rested his hands on top of a copy of the newspaper on his desk, which was opened to my article. “First, can I just say that I found your article in the paper this morning extremely elucidating. It takes a very brave young man to discuss his fears so openly, and I was very interested in what you had to say about your experiences at Bernhardt.”
I sank into the chair. What on earth had I done?
“But it’s what you didn’t say that I’d like to talk to you about today.” The principal looked at me significantly.
I was completely lost. “Sir?”
“There have been some serious allegations made. It’s been reported to me that Logan and his friends have been tripping, shoving, verbally harassing or otherwise intimidating classmates. Your name was mentioned frequently as a target of this behavior. And yet, there is no mention of it in your article here.” The principal laid his hands flat on it. “When I first read it, I felt it was a warming testimony to the maturity of our students and their commitment to our school’s policy of acceptance. In the light of today’s events, I reread it, and I noticed there were some worrying omissions. For example, it is not uncommon in this country for students to be bullied for being open about their orientation. You don’t mention this at all, either as a fear that you felt before deciding to come out or in your experiences since.” He paused.
I said nothing.
The principal took his glasses off. “There’s another thing that struck me as strange. While you state that being out made no difference in how you were treated in class or as a member of the newspaper, you make no mention at all of the impact on your participation in sports. I remember you left the squash team unexpectedly last year. And this year, your only sport is cross-country— in which you spend most of your time alone.” The principal regarded me earnestly. “I can think of a few reasons why you might decide to be silent on such a significant portion of student life, and I don’t like any of them, Milo.”
“Mr. Burns said that if we ran another story painting the football team in a negative light he’d shut the paper down,” I said. “And he meant it.”
“He made this statement to you? Was there anyone else present?”
“Candice,” I said. “And Logan and Matt. This was after what happened with Carson and Blake.”
“Indeed.” The principal made a note. “I stand by what I said at the time— an issue with such far-reaching consequences should be brought to the attention of the staff first, but I know you thought you were doing the best thing. I want you to feel that you are always welcome in my office, Milo. Now, b
ack to Logan’s behavior.”
****
Had I done the right thing? I lay face down on the floor of the AP English room while the newspaper meeting went on around me, replaying the interview with the principal. There was no harm in confirming what he already knew, right? And I hadn’t given away any confidences, just suggested that he talk to Declan and Fern…
I groaned. What if they needed someone else to make the first move? Once the principal had asked about bullying, it had been surprisingly easy to tell him what had happened. Should I have been more explicit?
“He’s still groaning,” one of the freshmen said. “You’re sure he’s all right?”
“Milo does that from time to time. Usually before a deadline. Just be careful not to step on him,” Candice said matter-of-factly. “Now. I want our spotlight on discrimination to be school-wide. We’re going to need input from all years and all groups.”
One of the freshmen raised her hand. “Not everyone’s going to be willing to put their name out there,” she said. “What if we made anonymous comment boxes that people could leave their stories in?”
“Or an e-mail account for people to send stories to,” Lionel said. “These days anyone can create a burner account and there’s free internet in the library. Easy.”
“We can make posters.” Sam warmed to the idea. “And people can indicate in their e-mail if they want to be interviewed or stay anonymous.”
“I like it.” Candice wrote furiously. “Sam, I want you making the poster. Lionel, you’re our tech guy. Can you set the newspaper up with an e-mail for this? Hannah and Alyssa, you think you can come up with a comment box for us? Great. That just leaves Milo.”
“Not the feature article, Candice. I can’t.”
“CAFETERIA-GATE: Bernhardt’s Reputation for Acceptance on the Line After Cafeteria Confrontation. It has your name all over it! There’s no one better.” Candice nudged me with the toes of her non-regulation boots. “Not only were you the only one present when it happened, but you know both parties involved.”
“And that’s why I can’t write it! I’m too involved!” I rolled onto my side. “Besides, the principal told me to let them look into the situation.”
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t—”
There was a knock on the door, and Mr. Perry looked into the room. “Hard at work, I see. I hate to interrupt, but the principal is wondering if he could have a word with you, Candice.”
Candice picked up her file. “We’ll continue this later, Milo,” she said. “Everyone else, you have your assignments.”
****
It was a fine enough day that Ms. Leech suggested the cross-country team might prefer to practice in the park where we did most of our summer training. “Make a nice change. Keep things fresh. Well, what are you waiting for? Off you hop.”
We shared a look. The cross-country team consisted of everyone who wasn’t on a team and couldn’t produce a valid medical excuse to get out of the mandatory sport activity. At one point or another, we’d all been target practice for the basketball team. Last week, that would have been “youthful hijinks” that we should “learn to laugh at.” Now? Seemed like the principal’s investigation was already making waves.
Lakes Park is great in the summer. The shade from the trees keeps some of the heat off and, if you ignore the mosquitoes and don’t mind dodging small, wet children and boating enthusiasts, it can be a nice run. In December? Not so much. The park was cold and damp, and the presence of the water just seemed to make the park even colder. I put on a burst of speed, hoping to get warm before I ran out of steam.
I’d outdistanced the rest of the club and was on my way back when I spotted Matt pushing his bike and Jordan walking beside him. How could I have forgotten? The park was also a shortcut for the students who lived in the Pocantico Hills, Mt. Pleasant or Hawthorne.
I had to act fast if I wanted to avoid getting pushed in the lake. I scrambled up the bank and into the forest, flattening myself on the ground behind a ridge and hoping desperately that I hadn’t been seen.
“—absolute bullshit! The football team’s the best of the best— so why should we put up with this crap?”
“Calm down, Jordan. Coach said to keep our heads down while he sorts things out. He didn’t say we should act like sissies.”
“That’s basically what it amounts to. Letting some bitch-ass fag lord it over us as class president? We have to do something.”
“Think clearly, man. We got to do it in a way that doesn’t get pinned on us. You want to wind up like Carson and Blake?”
The crunch of their footsteps passed and started to fade. I waited until my heart had slowed to a more normal speed and I could hear the familiar plod of another cross-country member to pick myself up and slide back down the bank.
Lily had her headphones in and didn’t even notice that I’d joined her. I took a deep breath, and tried to copy her distant expression as our path took us past another gaggle of jocks. Inwardly, I could only think of one thing. Taylor was in huge trouble. I was the only one who knew— and I couldn’t do a thing to help. No one in the school would believe what I’d just heard. It was too stereotypically awful. Bernhardt students did not act like middle school bullies. And even if they did, would anyone believe the story coming from me?
No, I decided, breaking into a sprint as we reached the end of the park track and the school came into view. There was only one option left— the headline article.
****
Chapter Seven
Taylor wasn’t at school on Friday.
Logan was, and he swaggered down the hall with an increased self-respect that did nothing for my peace of mind. Would my article work?
We had a whole-school assembly second period.
“Bernhardt Academy was founded on the principle of providing young scholars a place to learn that was free of religious or political creed,” Principal Kim said from the podium. “A place where any young man or woman might be free to express him or herself fearlessly. To that end, we’ve allowed our students freedoms not often extended to their peers. The freedom to hold meetings and practices without teacher supervision. The freedom to make decisions as a student body. For the most part, you have conducted yourselves in a way that shows that you are deserving of our trust in you.” He paused. “You are waiting for the ‘but.’”
I wasn’t the only person who glanced at Logan, lounging insolently in his seat.
“In envisaging a place of freedom, our founders envisaged a place free of fear. Sadly, for some students, Bernhardt has become a place where they cannot express themselves without fear. This is not a problem shared by one or two students. This is a problem that concerns the school as a whole. Freedom cannot flourish where there is fear. Therefore, I ask you, as students of Bernhardt, to challenge fear. If you hear hateful language, challenge the speaker. If you see anything that strikes you as unfair, speak up. If you are not confident to do this yourself, myself and any of the staff are available to help you. Let’s make our school a place where everyone feels free to be themselves.”
I glanced at the teachers, standing at intervals around the gym. Coach Burns was there, his face a set, expressionless mask, and his arms folded across his chest. But Mr. Harper was absent. Fired? I bit my lip. If that was the case, Taylor could be in serious trouble.
****
Fern had baked vegan chocolate chip cookies for the formal volunteers. “I’m sure everyone wishes Taylor was here,” she said. “I do, too. But I think the best way to show our support for him is to concentrate on doing as good a job as we can. The formal is just under two weeks away, so we don’t have much time.”
I chewed my cookie with a sinking feeling. Stress-baking again? That could not be a good sign.
“Fortunately, Victoria and Maria have stepped up to help fill the gap. They’ve got a ton of experience working on the homecoming committee for the last two years, so with their help, I’m sure we can make this happen.”
&nb
sp; I joined the decorating committee.
“We’re going for 1930s glamour.” Victoria tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail against the picture she held. “Obviously, we can’t decorate an entire room like this, but the venue is allowing us the use of their tablecloths, piano, carpet and rope. We’re going to make a red carpet area for photo shoots at the entrance. And for the walls, we’re going to make silhouettes of people standing in front of windows with a cityscape beyond— like you see in noir movies. I need a few people who are good at drawing to copy this design onto the big poster paper and then the rest of us can paint it in with the black paint.”
“While we wait for the silhouettes to be ready, we can start cutting out tickets. I borrowed scissors from the art department; this should be enough for everyone.” Maria lifted a box onto the desk with a heavy metallic thunk.
“Leaving me to go over poster design with that group.” Fern breathed out. “Thanks so much, you guys! This is such a help.”
Maria smirked at Victoria. “What else are friends for?”
I joined the group cutting out tickets, trying to tell myself that my dislike was unreasonable. It was good of them to help us at the last moment. Why didn’t I feel grateful?
“You’d think that since we’re doing so much for the school, an extension on our homework would be the least they could do…” Maria heaved a sigh. “I should really be at home, studying now. You’re lucky to have me at all.”
Bad luck was still luck, I decided. “At least we’re all in the same boat on that front. I plan to use the weekend to get ahead on my projects.”
Maria looked at me. “I don’t know how you find the time! It takes me the entire weekend just to catch up on my social commitments.”
“Do you catch up with your friends after school then, Milo?”
How had I let myself get into this trap? “I— don’t.”
“And what about dating?” Maria asked. “When do you find time for that?”
Victoria elbowed her a little too quickly. “You forget—”
“Oh! Milo, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Maria simpered at me, all fake sympathy.
I forced my jaw to unclench, smiled back at them. “It’s fine.”