Alex Sanchez

Smiling across the crowd was Nelson Glassman.

Jason froze. How could he have been so stupid? That little faggot would spread this all over Whitman.

Jason still couldn’t believe seeing him here. He hung with Nelson at school, but he looked so … normal

With Nelson, Kyle didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than himself.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and think I’m really good looking. Then other times I think my body’s all wrong. I hate it.

When Jason reached into the bucket, his thumb accidentally brushed Kyle’s. The touch of skin made him a little uneasy. It was as if a little zap of electricity had sparked through his body. He tried to ignore it, but each time their fingers bumped, he felt himself grow more excited, and when they reached the bottom of the bucket, he felt disappointed.

Jason wanted to kiss him. He could practically taste Kyle’s sweet, buttery breath, feel the tenderness of Kyle’s lips.

What would it feel like to kiss him?

Kyle felt relieved that his dad didn’t blame him for the harassment. In fact, it almost sounded like he was taking up for Kyle. That was a shift.

He reached his desecrated locker and stood before the word QUEER. He reached into his backpack. With one long sweep he spray-painted AND PROUD!