After School Activities (27 page)

sharing parts of myself with him.”

“Stained-glass-related parts?” Kai said.

“What? There are sides of me you don’t know about.”

“That’s exactly my point. How long have you lived this secret

stained glass life? Do you have secret stained glass friends? Is there a

secret stained glass Kai? Oh my God, do you like him better than me?
Are

we the ‘other family’?
”

“What Malachi was
trying
to say, before his neuroses got the better

of him,” Mel broke in, “is that Adam is
not
avoiding you, you’ll go in that lunchroom, and whatever happens, we’ve got your back. It’ll be fine.”

“I bet stained glass Kai doesn’t have your back,” Kai muttered to

himself.

In a perfect world, when I walked into that lunchroom, all eyes

would have been on me. Heads would have turned, conversations

immediately cut off, maybe even dramatic noontime-shootout-type music

would have played. But we don’t live in a perfect world, and all I got was

the typical bustle of hundreds of disinterested teenagers.

In a slightly less than perfect world, this disinterested crowd would

have casually parted, revealing Adam across the way, bathed in a beam of

sunlight, perhaps astride a white horse. But we don’t live in a slightly less than perfect world. Adam wasn’t even in the lunchroom.

In a “not at all perfect but still pretty agreeable” world, Adam would

have entered right then, and maybe all the above scenarios would follow

smoothly from there. Instead, Mel, Kai, and I had time to wait in line, get

our lunches, pay for them, sit at our table, and eat a few begrudging

mouthfuls.

Then he arrived.

The entire football team entered the lunchroom in a pack, like they so

often did. Adam was at the head of the group. Our eyes met. We came toward

each other as though drawn by some irresistible force until we stood at the dead center of the lunchroom, surrounded by almost everyone we’d ever known. I

could feel what was about to happen. I began to shake, ever so slightly, as I became terribly aware of everyone being able to see me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. By the way his eyes darted around the room, I could tel Adam felt the same way. Is this how he always felt when we were together in public? I

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After School Activities

think I was mostly feeling it out of sympathy and expectation, but even so it was nearly overwhelming. Would he go through with it? Final y acknowledge

me in front of everyone? I could see him teetering on the edge of a decision, torn between fear and determination.

Then he kissed me.

It was short, awkward, and somewhat off-putting. But all the

same, it felt as though someone had lit off fireworks in the building, a

choir of angels began to sing sweeping love ballads as the earth quaked

and volcanoes erupted heart-shaped plumes of molten rock and clouds

of ash wrote large our names across the heavens, all somehow rolled

into the time it took for a single hurried peck on the lips. It was like the

world stopped turning and said how about we just take a minute to

savor this moment. I half expected the entire lunchroom to burst into an

expertly choreographed song-and-dance number before the curtain

slammed shut and the audience went home all teary eyed—after a

standing ovation, maybe a few encores.

In reality, it was a two-second affair that went largely unnoticed. I

mean, Will Davis’s eyes were bulging nearly out of their sockets, a couple

of Adam’s jock buddies had quizzical looks on their faces, and someone

(almost certainly Mel) whistled loudly. Everyone else in the lunchroom

just went about their day. Except for Tiffany saying “Well, that makes a

lot
of things make sense.” Adam’s de facto coming out went entirely unremarked upon. But strangely, Adam looked unhappy.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “What is it?”

“I’m fine. It’s just, you spend your whole life being afraid, like

really dreading something, and then nothing happens…. I know I should

be happy, but instead I’m….”

“Disappointed?” I finished for him.

“Yes!” he said. “That’s exactly it. Is that weird?”

“No. I mean, yeah, kind of, but I get it. It’s like, what was the big

deal, then?”

“And why did I go through all that trouble to hide it if no one even

cares?”

“And you want people to care.”

“Or at least notice!”

165

Dirk Hunter

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I got you. Oy,” I called over my shoulder to

Tiffany. “Bitch, you did
not
just ignore me when I’m trying to start some drama.”

“Oh right,” she said. “Let me try again.”

Adam looked confused “What does she mean—” I interrupted him

by grabbing his head with both hands and kissing him. This time,

Tiffany’s shrill shriek cut through the lunchroom, disrupting the casual

hustle-bustle.

“Hands off my man, you slut!”

This time heads turned, and the rapid susurrus of gossip filled the air.

James gave us a thumbs-up and Charlotte shook her head. We were

instantly the center of attention. The only two people who weren’t focused

on us was that new kid and Will Davis, who appeared to be trapped in a

heated discussion. But I didn’t pay them any mind.

“That better?” I asked.

“I expected a bit more chaos. At least some outrage,” he said.

“Wait for it….” As always, Mel was quick on the uptake. She leapt

up on the table, pointing like a madwoman, and screamed, “
Death to

gays!
” With her other hand, she let loose a mushed-up clump of Tater Tots, which expanded in the air to splatter across several tables.

In my experience, there are a few things high schoolers will leap at

the opportunity to do. Things like gossip and finding any excuse to avoid

homework, and anything that even implies sexy times. But more than

anything else, the kids of Oak Lake High constantly itched for a food

fight. As our classmates, en masse, turned the lunchroom into a war zone,

Adam kissed me again, this time slowly, luxuriating in the moment.

Around us, meatballs exploded against walls like fireworks, a choir

of screaming girls filled the air with sweet music, and the floor shook as

people dove behind tables. Heart-shaped squirts of spaghetti sauce

abounded and, if I could have taken a picture at the exact right moment,

I’m sure one of the many airborne tangles of noodles would have spelled

our names.

“Now this is more the fanfare I expected,” Adam said with a smile.

“Strangely, not too far from what I was picturing too.”

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After School Activities

PRINCIPAL HAYES regarded us over steepled fingers. “What am I going

to do with you two?”

Adam and I shared a look. “Whatever do you mean?” Adam said. He

was innocence incarnate.

“You incited a riot.” Hayes said flatly.

I scoffed loudly. “We can hardly be held accountable for other

people’s actions. To imply otherwise would be a refutation of free will, to

say the least.”

Hayes sighed. “Am I to believe your… actions to be another

misguided attempt at theater?”

“Naw,” Adam said. “This was clearly an attempt at performance

art.” “Adam wanted to cover himself in blood and run through the

hallways naked, but I talked him out of it.”

“Don’t give me that look, Mr. Hayes. It would have been pig’s

blood.”

“Right.” Mr. Hayes pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb

and forefinger. “What am I going to do with you two?”

“You already said that,” I remarked.

“You could give us both detention. I’m sure we’d find a way to pass

the time.” Adam’s grin bordered on evil.

“Just get back to class,” Mr. Hayes said, waving us away in defeat.

Adam put his arm around my shoulder as we walked out of Hayes’s

office. “It’s good to be back,” he said.

“Isn’t it? Bye, Mr. Hayes. We’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure.”

167

About the Author

DIRK HUNTER grew up in a small farmhouse just west of Beleriand

before it sank. He currently lives in Southeast Minneapolis, where he

spends most of his time writing, playing video games, and desperately

trying to avoid fading into the West.

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