Rainbow High (8 page)

The fol owing day on the way to the lunchroom, Corey’s voice cal ed out, “Yo, Jason!” He jostled toward Jason across the crowded hal . “What’s with you, man? Didn’t you hear me?” He raised his arm to clasp hands.

“Sorry,” Jason said, grabbing hold of Corey’s hand. “I guess I was zoned out.” As they herded into the ketchupy-smel ing cafeteria, Jason peered through the glass panes of the food line, and took a plate of something red—maybe pizza, lasagna, or cherry cobbler—he wasn’t sure which. When they got to the cash register, he couldn’t find his lunch ticket.

Corey lent him some money, whispering, “You sure you’re al right?”

Jason shrugged. He hadn’t told Corey yet about coming out to Coach or about everything going on with Kyle.

As they carried their trays through the rowdy lunchroom, Jason confided in a low voice, “Yesterday I told the coach about . . . you know ...”

“Whoa!” Corey stopped in his tracks. “You did what?” He glanced toward the basketbal team table. “Let’s sit somewhere else.” They found an empty table by the wal . “How did Coach take it?” Corey said.

But before Jason could answer, Corey’s girlfriend walked up. “Hi, guys!” Cindy plopped her tray next to Corey’s.

Beside her stood Debra, wearing a formfitting pink cashmere turtleneck. “Mind if I sit?” she asked Jason.

Her familiar scent of rose perfume carried over. This would mark their first time lunching together since their breakup.

“Sure.” He pul ed the chair out for her.

“How come you’re sitting way over here?” Cindy asked. She was always to the point like that.

Corey glanced at Jason, deferring to his response.

Jason bit into his lip. Should he tel
all
of them about coming out to Coach? He hated having to make daily decisions about when to tel who how much about what. It was ridiculous.

But since he’d already come out to Corey, Debra, and Cindy, he decided he may as wel update them.

He took a deep breath. “I was tel ing Corey that I told Coach. You know . . . I came out to him.” He tried to gauge Debra’s reaction. He hadn’t discussed with her any more about his liking guys since he’d first come out to her and she’d responded by striking out at him, yel ing that she hated him. Even though she’d since apologized and said she wanted to be friends, the episode had left its mark.

Now Cindy responded first. “So does that mean you’re out to the whole school?”

“No,” Jason said, glancing over his shoulder. “Not yet.”

Debra took a sip from her Coke. “What did Coach say?”

Jason relaxed in his chair, relieved she wasn’t freaking out. “He wants to discuss it with some people. I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I just hope Tech won’t take away my scholarship.”

“They couldn’t do that,” Cindy said. “Could they?”

Corey nodded. “Oh, yeah!”

“That sucks,” Cindy said. “It seems like everyone’s coming out al of a sudden. First Kyle spray-painted his locker. Of course, I always suspected him. I saw you two talking after the game. Are you friends?”

Jason felt a trickle of sweat start down his back. He hadn’t mentioned to Debra about his relationship with Kyle yet, in part because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings—everything with Kyle had happened so soon after she and Jason had broken up—and partly because it was stil hard to talk about being involved with a guy, especial y to an ex-girlfriend.

“Um . . .” Jason cleared his throat. “I guess you could say Kyle and I are friends. He started helping me with math and we, um . . . hang out sometimes.”

“I’ve always liked him,” Debra said. “I remember the day he helped me carry this
huge
load of field hockey equipment out to my car. And when my mom was in the hospital that time? He always asked how I was doing. He’s a sweet guy. I didn’t realize you’d become friends.” Jason nodded, hoping that would end the discussion, but Cindy gave him a mischievous grin. “So,” she whispered, “are you two dating?” Jason nearly slid off his chair. Did she real y just ask that? He’d never thought of Kyle and him as “dating,” but wasn’t that what they were doing?

“Um ...” He sipped his Coke, trying to quench the sudden drought in his mouth. “Yeah, I mean, I guess so.” Cindy’s smile evaporated. “Oh,” she said. “I was just joking.

Debra spun around to stare at Jason, her cheerful calm shattered. “You’re
dating
Kyle? Since
when?”

“Just recently,” Jason said, trying to sound like it was no big deal. “Not til you and I broke up.” His feet pressed into the floor, ready to propel his chair back if she swung out at him.

But Debra folded her arms. “Why didn’t you tel me about it?”

Jason swal owed the knot in his throat. “I was afraid you’d feel hurt.”

“Jason!” Debra said, her voice sounding exasperated. “I told you I want to be your friend!” Great, now he felt even guiltier. “Wel , I—I just didn’t want to hurt you.” Debra pursed her lips as if disbelieving him. “What hurts is when you don’t tel me things—it’s like you don’t trust me.”

“Trust you?” Jason protested. “I was afraid you’d flip out again.”

“Wel , you’ve got to admit,” Debra shot back, “after making love for two years, you could’ve given me some warning.”

“I tried!” Jason muttered, letting his hand slam down on the tabletop. “But like now, every time I try, you make me feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

“Guys?” Corey crossed his hands into a T, signaling time out.

But Debra kept focused on Jason. “How do you think
I
feel? Like I wasn’t able to please you, like you never real y cared about me, like you used me.”

“I didn’t use you.”

The bel rang and Cindy leaped up, obviously embarrassed by what she’d started.

“Jason?” Debra said over the clatter of chairs and trays. “I’ve got to get to class now, but we need to talk.” She hurried to the tray window, wiping her cheek.

Corey clasped a hand on Jason’s shoulder and said something consoling, but the rumble of the cafeteria drowned it out.

Jason remained in his chair a moment, too dazed to stand. Had he actual y admitted to his ex-girlfriend, best friend, and best friend’s girlfriend that he was dating a guy? It was al too confusing.

He wandered in a haze through the rest of the day. By the end of last period, he’d decided to talk to Ms. MacTraugh, as Coach had suggested.

He pressed his way against the oncoming crowd of students, heading toward her classroom.

From amid the tide, a teammate high-fived him. “Aren’t you coming to practice?” Odel asked.

“Can you let Coach know I’l be late?” Jason mumbled. “Tel him I, um, had to do something.”

“Uh-oh!” Odel gave a suggestive grin. “Got some secret rendezvous?”

Yeah, right,
Jason thought, envisioning tal , broad-shouldered Ms. MacTraugh—or “Big Mac,” as students cal ed her.

The afternoon sun shone brightly through the windows of her art classroom, il uminating the multicolored stained glass projects. Every inch of wal was covered with vivid paintings. And each side counter was lined with clay sculpture.

Ms. MacTraugh was bent over a table slicing the vestiges of what looked to have been a sheet cake. Jason suddenly remembered he’d forgotten the GSA meeting—and Ms. MacTraugh’s birthday.

“Hi, Jason.” She smiled, waving him closer. “We missed you at the GSA. Come have some cake.”

“Um, no thanks.” His stomach was too tied in knots. “But happy birthday.”

“Oh, you’ve got to help me,” she insisted, slicing a piece for him. “It’s too much for me, and my cats won’t eat it. Neither wil Barb.” Jason accepted the plate and wondered,
Who is Barb?

“Have a seat,” Ms. MacTraugh said, sitting across from Jason. “Coach Cameron spoke to me yesterday. I didn’t know you’d received a scholarship for next year. Congratulations!” She extended a hand.

Jason wiped the icing from his fingers and shook hands. “Thanks.”

“I played col ege bal myself,” MacTraugh said. “Of course, I was a wee bit thinner then.” She grinned, dabbing her chin with a paper napkin.

“In any case, Coach is concerned about you. I imagine your conversation with him must’ve been quite a big step for you.” She patted his knee.

“That was very brave.”

Jason shrugged, proud but also a little embarrassed.

Ms. MacTraugh adjusted her wire-framed glasses. “Coach said you’re thinking of tel ing your team?”

“Wel , um, yeah, except . . .” Jason set his plate aside. “I’m not sure how they’d react. What do you think I should do?”

“Wel ...” Ms. MacTraugh wiped her hands. “I emphasized to Coach Cameron that coming out is a very personal decision. Only you can determine what’s right for you, but . . . I think coming out publicly would make you an excel ent role model.” Jason groaned softly.
Not again.

“Can I ask you a question?” He sat up. “If it’s not too personal . . . are you ...” He scrunched up the napkin in his hand. “Are you gay?” Ms. MacTraugh nodded, smiling. “I try not to make a big deal of it, but with so many of you students coming out now ...” Jason shifted his feet. “When did you come out?”

“Hmm,” Ms. MacTraugh said, as if remembering. “It depends on what you mean. In col ege I first realized my feelings for other girls were more than friendship. Up til then I’d gone out with boys. I was playing bal sophomore year, when I met a girl and fel in love. This May wil mark twenty-four years together.”

Jason wondered,
Is that “Barb”?

“Coming out is a lifelong process,” Ms. MacTraugh continued. “Each time we meet someone new or move to a different setting, we’re chal enged to reveal who we are. It’s not always easy. But no matter how difficult, it’s something I’ve never regretted. So few things in life truly matter. Chief among them are being true to yourself, and being honest with others.”

“But,” Jason said, “what if that means losing my scholarship?”

“We could certainly fight it.” Ms. MacTraugh’s voice brimmed with optimism. “You’re not alone in this. Coach Cameron thinks very highly of you, and you can count on my support.”

“Thanks,” Jason said, a little encouraged.

“Now, what about your family?” Ms. MacTraugh asked. “Have you come out to them?” Jason shifted in his seat, uneasy. “After I told my dad, he left home. I thought my mom was okay with it, but now I think she was in shock. Or denial. She hasn’t talked about it since that night. I don’t think she real y understands.”

“Wel . . .” Ms. MacTraugh gave an understanding nod. “Parents have to go through their own coming to terms process. Whatever you decide to do is okay. We each come out in different ways at different times in our lives. As I said, only you can determine what’s the right decision.” Jason bit into a nail, wondering what
was
the right decision.

He glanced at the wal clock and realized he’d be way late for practice.

Coach wasn’t thril ed by his tardiness. But when Jason said he’d been talking with Ms. MacTraugh, Coach let him off with fifty push-ups.

After dinner that evening Jason tried doing some homework. But Ms. MacTraugh’s words about being true to yourself and honest with others kept interfering.

Final y he tossed his pen aside and headed to the kitchen. His mom sat at the breakfast table, wearing her red plastic drugstore reading glasses, writing checks to pay bil s.

“Do we have enough money?” Jason asked.

“Honey, let me worry about that. You focus on school, okay?” She peered over her half frames. “Finish your home work?”

“Taking a break.” He poured a glass of water and drank some, leaning against the sink. “How are we going to manage without dad?”

“Oh, we’l make do.” She tore out a check. “I reminded him about the mortgage payment when we talked this morning.” Jason nearly choked. “You
talked
with him?” He’d assumed they weren’t speaking. “What for?”

“Because he has two children to help support.”

“Hah. He doesn’t care.” Jason sat down at the table, moving aside Melissa’s coloring book. “At least not about me.”

“Wel ...” His mom ran her tongue along an envelope. “He can’t just walk away.”

“Yeah? He already did.”

Unwil ing to argue, his mom glanced toward the counter. “Can you grab the stamps? How was school today?”

“Okay.” Jason handed her the stamps. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” He took a sip from his water, preparing himself. This would be the first time he’d discussed his coming out with her since he got into the fistfight with his dad.

“I, um, came out to Coach. I told him I want to let the team know.”

His mom stared at him a moment, then she began busily shifting and sorting bil s. “Honey, are you sure you don’t want to talk to someone about al this?”

He knew she meant a psychologist.

“Ma, I’m not crazy. I just told you I talked to Coach. And I talked to the teacher who’s adviser for the GSA. That’s the group for people dealing with this stuff.”

He knew his mom was big on groups. She’d been going to Al-Anon meetings because of his dad’s alcoholism.

“And what did Coach and this teacher say?”

Jason nervously ran his fingers along the side of his water glass. “Different things.”

“Like what?”

“Like that I could lose my scholarship.”

“Oh, honey!” his mom burst out. “You’ve worked so hard for that. It’s been your dream.” He shrank at his mom’s protest, though he couldn’t blame her for being upset. Through the years she’d always encouraged him. She’d bought him his first basketbal . She always found money for new sneakers. She cheered him on at games. She pasted news clippings into a scrapbook. Now he felt he was letting her down.

“Wel ,” he said, “I could stay home to help you.”

“Honey, don’t worry about me. You need to think about you. If this means losing your scholarship, then you shouldn’t do it. You can’t give up col ege!”

She’d always wanted him to have the opportunity she’d never had.

Jason sipped his glass of water, considering what his mom had said and comparing it to what Ms. MacTraugh had said, and what Coach had said, and Corey, and Kyle, and Nelson. . . . Trying to sort it al out was making his head ache.