“So what do you guys want to do this weekend?”
Emma scooted closer on the bench to Terri, snuggling up to her warmth as the group discussed.
Terri said, “It’s too cold to go to the beach.”
“We could have a scary movie fest at my house,” Emma said. “We can check Redbox, see if anything is new.”
“Since last night? Probably not,” Terri said. When Emma shivered a little, Terri slipped her arm around Emma’s shoulders and hugged her closer.
Emma smiled and zoned out of the group’s conversation for a while as they discussed rewatching old horror favorites.
I’m so happy, she thought, remembering when she’d met Terri last summer and fallen in love. She’d been so worried about going to a new school and not knowing how she would be treated when strangers—or worse, new friends—found out she was gay. She’d had nights as they packed to move where she sat up, sick to her stomach over the idea that she wouldn’t be able to make friends. At her old school in Manhattan, it had been no big deal. Everyone in the city was so different that they were all pretty much accepted.
But when her parents got divorced, and Mom wanted to move back to her home town in North Carolina, Emma knew things would be more than a little different down in the “bible belt.”
That was a year ago. She’d met Terri her first week in Raleigh, when they were both in line for cappuccinos at Joe Mugs. Terri was completely adorable, with a mop of wildly curling red hair and a smile that lit up the room. Emma had actually felt her heart flutter in her chest when Terri first asked her out.
Even now when they had been a couple for more than a year, Emma still got butterflies whenever Terri aimed that brilliant smile her way.
Terri had great friends, too. They’d welcomed Emma into their group with open arms. Terri was the only one of the group that was gay until Emma came along, but they all seemed totally cool with it. Emma had been so relieved that she’d worried over nothing.
The sound of the bell snapped Emma out of her reverie. The group said their goodbyes and each headed toward their first period classes.
“Text you later,” Emma said, giving Terri a quick peck on the cheek before hurrying off to Trig.
As she made her way to her desk she heard a couple of the jerky math guys laughing. Something about their jeering tone twisted her guts—sounding familiar yet alien after so long. She had to look, had to know what the joke was, and hope it wasn’t her.
Wow. The guy in the back of the room definitely stood out among the Raleigh crowd.
He had to be making a statement with his spiky black hair dyed pink at the tips. His long legs were stretched nonchalantly into the aisle between the desks, clad in black skinny jeans. With his legs stuck out that way, Emma couldn’t help but notice the matching hot pink heels he was rocking, bringing the whole ensemble together.
As she took her seat, Emma couldn’t look away from the newcomer. He was really beautiful. His smoky eye makeup gave him a glam-goth edge. Emma stared, feeling a bit embarrassed inside that she could never get the eyeliner quite right for that look.
She hadn’t seen anyone like him since she left New York. For the first time in a long while, Emma felt a pang of homesickness for her old Manhattan school. Someone like him would have fit right in with a few of her old friends.
Mrs. Braxton’s nasal drawl cut through the chatter, “You heard the bell. Settle in.”
When the math teacher had gone through about half the list, she came to a new name.
“Eric McKenzie. Class, let’s welcome our new student. Mr. McKenzie?”
Of course, the colorful new guy spoke up, his voice as bright as his heels. “Here!”
Mrs. Braxton look up from her clipboard, lips pursed into a bad excuse for a welcoming smile, and searched for Eric. When her gaze fell upon Eric McKenzie, her went wide and her smile vanished. With a sneering grimace, her gaze became steely-eyed. A long, silent minute passed. Emma could feel the heat of anger rolling off the teacher.
Her stomach tightened. She didn’t like where this was headed.
Mrs. Braxton then reached over her desk, snatched up a notepad, and scribbled furiously. The teacher stomped down the aisle to where Eric was sitting at the back of the room.
“I don’t know how they do things where you come from, Mister McKenzie,” Mrs. Braxton said, her voice icy, “but we have rules at this school. And you are in violation of the dress code. Report to Room 406 after school. For detention. And tomorrow, make sure that you are in compliance with the dress code.”
With that, the teacher slapped the detention slip down onto Eric’s desk and returned in a huff back to her desk.
The jerks from before twittered with laughter. Emma heard one of them mutter under his breath, “F-f-freak.”
The new kid didn’t need to say anything for Emma to know he had heard it, too: color burned his cheeks, revealing his embarrassment.
Emma’s heart went out to Eric. She felt a swell of anger bubbled in her chest.
“Excuse me? Mrs. Braxton,” Emma spoke up. She felt horrified but righteous as she asked, “So I don’t make the same mistake, could you tell me what part of the dress code Eric’s violating?”
Mrs. Braxton whirled around and pinned Emma with that icy gaze. “Miss Cole,” she said, “would you like to join Mr. McKenzie in detention? I think it is patently obvious that he is dressed inappropriately. Now, get out your textbooks and begin solving the equations on page 137.”
Emma’s cheeks burned as she opened her Trigonometry book. She glanced back at Eric, who gave her a small, quick smile before he returned to his own open book.
The rest of the class passed in a dull, boring blur. Emma waited in the hallway for Eric. She caught him with a smile as he slipped out of the room with the rest of their classmates.
“Well, hello, gorgeous. What can I do for you?”
“Hi, I’m Emma,” she said. “Um… Just so you know, I’m gay.”
He looked startled for a minute, and then his perfect Cupid’s-bow lips curved into a grin. “I’m Eric. And I’m completely unbiased when it comes to love. Which is the easy way to say pansexual.”
He paused then added, “Did you think I was hitting on you or is that how everyone introduces themselves around here? ‘Hi, I’m straight, I’m gay’? Because I bet that make crushes a whole lot less awkward.”
Emma chuckled. “No, I just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone. And that Mrs. Braxton is a jerk. She can’t give you detention for wearing makeup and heels. If that’s really violating the dress code, we’d need a detention hall big enough for half the school!”
“Aren’t you sweet,” Eric answered with a smile. “But Braxton isn’t the first bigot I’ve ever met. Probably won’t be the last. Guess I’ll have to get used to detention? Because nobody’s taking away this gorgeousness,” he said, gesturing with one hand to his face and the other to his ensemble.
Emma was glad that Eric hadn’t taken Mrs. Braxton’s attitude too harshly. She said, “So, what do you have next? P.E.? Me, too! Come on, I’ll show you the gym.”
As they walked into the gym, Emma noticed the same guys from Trig that had been snickering and making fun of Eric hanging out on the bleachers. As they walked by, Emma heard one of them practically singing out, “Freak.”
The laughter rose up from the group.
Eric just kept walking. Emma stopped in her tracks and stared down the boys.
“Jimmy Richards! You should be ashamed. I thought you were a nice guy but I guess you’re one of those discriminatory, prejudiced, old-fashioned bigoted assholes who pick on anyone who is different from him.” Emma whirled on another, saying, “You, too, Tyrone. And I was there in trig, Nathan. You’re all acting like assholes.”
With that, Emma stomped off to the locker room to change into her gym clothes. When she came out a few minutes later, the boys were already playing half-court basketball at the other end of the gym. Eric stood out in his pink high-top sneakers, but it wasn’t his look that had everyone staring this time.
Eric was magic on the court!
Jimmy Richards was captain of the basketball team and known for his prowess on the court, but Eric dribbled circles around him like a Harlem Globetrotter. The other guys looked like baboons trying to play with an NBA All-Star as Eric swooshed in one layup after another. Every time the ball came into play, he was there, stealing it and dribbling his way to another basket. He was amazing!
He shouldered his way past the defenders and tossed up another two-pointer, leaving Jimmy Richards lying on his back on the floor. Eric walked to Jimmy and stood above him, then held out his hand.
For a minute, Emma thought Jimmy would refuse the helping hand, but then the boy reached up and let Eric pull him to his feet.
After school that day, Emma was telling Terri about Eric, his hot pink everything, and his spectacular basketball skills. When she told her girlfriend about how Mrs. Braxton had treated Eric, though, Terri was incensed.
“That’s not right!” Terri shook her head, her red hair bouncing.
“I know. I don’t think Eric’s going to listen, too.”
“Ugh!” Terri cuddled against Emma. “He’ll be in detention for eternity if she keeps getting away with this.”
Emma’s eyes lit up. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s get on Facebook.”
Next day in Trig class, Emma saw the fruits of her and Terri’s hours of chatting, texting, and private messaging. When she walked into the classroom, she felt her chest swell with pride to see Eric imitators everywhere she turned.All of the boys were in make-up and blouses; the girls made themselves up with baggy jeans and fake moustaches and goatees. Even Jimmy Richards and his buddies were wearing eye shadow and lipstick, grinning wide! Jimmy looked especially cute in a ruffled blue dress that must have belonged to his older sister. Eric, himself was wearing his pink high heels and glossy pink lipstick, beamed at Emma. He winked and pointed at her, knowing who the mastermind had to be.
Apparently the whole class had agreed that Mrs. Braxton’s stupid dress-code violation was a farce—and they were taking Eric’s side!
Emma was delighted, but hadn’t been sure that anyone would actually go along with her and Terri’s instructions. For the first time since she hatched this plan, she worried about how Mrs. Braxton was going to react.
When the teacher walked into the classroom a few minutes later, Mrs. Braxton’s back was ramrod straight and expression grim. As she turned to face the classroom full of cross-dressing students, it was like she’d been sucking on lemons.
She said, voice clipped, “It has been called to my attention by school administration that, in fact, our dress code does not preclude gender-inappropriate clothing, so I suppose you can all dress like the opposite sex if you so choose.”
Emma thought, victoriously, And no teacher can tell us what’s appropriate for our gender! Boo yeah!
Mrs. Braxton eyed Jimmy as she said, “Mr. Richards, I didn’t realize your father was one of our school board members until he called me last night.”
Jimmy flashed her a smile full of Southern charm.
To Eric, the teacher said, “Mr. McKenzie, welcome to North Carolina. Now, everyone take out paper and pencil for a pop quiz.”
As she reached into her book-bag, happy to take the pop quiz punishment, Emma glanced at Eric just in time to see him mouth a silent thank you to Jimmy, who just smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
Emma breathed deep at last.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Cathy Jones lives on the Crystal Coast of North Carolina. She loves the beach, reading every type of book ever written, inventing delicious recipes, and making up tall tales.
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