The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth - Alexandra Robbins [71]
“Oh my God, Mom, come look what Blue did!” Ty called out.
When Ty’s mother came in, she gasped. The room looked like a new college dorm, clean and organized. She turned to Blue in amazement. “You did this? For Ty?”
Blue gave a small smile. Ty left the room.
“Oh my. I can’t believe this,” she continued. “He’s been stuck in a hard part of his life for a while. This all sort of built up. I’m really happy he has a friend like you.”
“Don’t worry. I like cleaning,” Blue said. He went to his car to get a controller he had customized for Ty. When he returned, he overheard Ty’s mother say, “He’s an amazing influence on you, you know that?”
“I know,” Ty said.
Over the next couple of weeks, Blue taught Ty how to drive stick shift and surf. He showed him his favorite parts of the island, taking him to a new beach every day. Ty leaned on Blue, who was glad to be there for him. Yet something was still missing. It was nice to have a friend to share interests with, but Blue still didn’t feel the connection he craved.
REGAN, GEORGIA | THE WEIRD GIRL
Rumors started to swirl among students about Regan’s sexuality. Last year it had been easier to lie to her classes by omission because she didn’t have a steady girlfriend. She worried now that if she came out, students’ blatant homophobia would turn her from an outcast to a victim.
Regan didn’t care what her colleagues thought of her, which was why she had brought Crystal to the first-day-of-school faculty assembly. But her students were another story. “My relationship with my kids is so wildly important to me; I’d be crushed if anything ruined that rapport,” she said. “A lot of them love and trust me on a level that is very special and beyond the average teacher-student bond. I’m afraid it will be shattered. Then I would be shattered.”
Regan made a point of not lying, and yet she had been concealing the truth from some of the people she cared about most. “What kind of role model am I if I perpetuate a culture of shame?” she said. When she asked a former administrator if she could be open about her sexuality, the administrator told her not to “flaunt” her private life. “If you were married, it would be different,” the administrator said.
In the Bible Belt? Not likely. As Regan told Crystal, “I could be fired, or not hired, for being gay. Do you know how hard that makes what I do for a living? I’m so close to so many of these kids, but I can’t tell them or anyone else at school that I’m gay because I could lose my job, the one thing that I’ve worked so hard to get and love above all else. That could be taken away from me in a second because I’m gay. And I feel like I’m the only one, and I have no one to talk to.” By late fall, Regan decided that if anyone at school—teacher or student—asked her about her sexuality, she would tell the truth.
Her opportunity came quickly. In first period, when Regan was again explaining why the word “faggot” was offensive, a freshman said, “Damn, you always defending gay people. Are you gay?”
Startled by the bluntness of the question, Regan nodded. The rest of the class followed intently.
He looked incredulous. “Are you bisexual?” he asked, as if that would make more sense.
Regan shook her head.
“You’re really gay?”
She nodded again. The students were silent for a moment before erupting. “Duh, why didn’t we figure it out before?!” Various students cited instances in which Regan’s gayness should have been obvious to them. The class was unfazed by her coming out. They were offended only because she had hidden such an important part of her life from them.
Soon afterward, Regan helped freshmen organize a student performance of spoken word poetry to an audience of four English classes. Regan arranged with the school for Crystal’s band to play a set. The event went fairly well, Regan thought. In third period, however, a student said to Regan, “I just want to let you know that