Date Me, Bryson Keller(63)

The door swings open and Yazz steps out. She’s dressed for school. Yazz goes to the same public middle school I did, so she doesn’t wear a school uniform. I must be dreaming because never before has Yazz been ready for school so early.

“Hey,” Yazz says. “Could I get a ride to school?”

“What are you doing?” I ask. “Mom usually takes you to school.”

Yazz looks from Bryson to me and stares at his hands on my shoulders.

“I’m protesting,” Yazz says.

“What?”

“I don’t like the bullshit in this house, and I refuse to be a part of it.”

“Language,” I say, but I don’t really mean the reprimand, because my heart is melting.

Bryson holds up a hand and Yazz gives him a high five. “You’re officially my hero, Yasmine,” he tells her.

    “It’s Yazz, and I take it that’s a yes to the ride?”

“It’s a yes to whatever you want,” Bryson says. He leaves me standing there and trails after my sister. I blink at the sudden turn of events.

“What are you doing, Kai?” Yazz calls out.

“Yeah, Kai, what are you doing?” Bryson echoes. Bryson helps Yazz into the back seat of the Jeep and then looks at me. He cocks an eyebrow as if to ask, Well?

“Did you tell Mom you were getting a ride to school?” I ask when I’ve climbed into the Jeep, too.

“I left a very angrily worded letter,” Yazz says.

Bryson and I share a look. He can’t fight the smile on his lips, and neither can I.

“Let’s eat,” Bryson says, which earns him a cheer from Yazz. We head to Glenda’s and we both allow Yazz to order whatever she wants.

After breakfast, we drop Yazz off at school before racing toward Fairvale Academy. The unplanned detour has made us later than usual, but neither of us complains. Both of us haven’t stopped smiling.

“Your sister is amazing,” Bryson muses. He grabs my hand and places a chaste kiss there.

“I’ve always said she could rule the world if she wanted to.”

With ten minutes left until the start of the day, we pull into the parking lot. Bryson parks the Jeep and we get out. I spot Shannon standing far from the crowd, at the stairs leading inside. She’s looking down at our cars, at us. It’s surprising that she isn’t waiting for Bryson. Given her actions last week, I assumed she’d be first to ask him out today. Before I can question it further, Priya and Donny rush toward me.

    “Are you sure you’re okay?” Priya asks.

“Jesus. Your face.”

“It looks a lot better than it did,” I say to Donny.

“Hey, Bryson,” Priya says.

Bryson waves. “Hi, Priyanka, Donny.”

“You can call me Priya.”

“What, really?” Bryson smiles. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to talk. See you later, Priya, Donny,” Bryson says. “I’ll see you in drama, Kai.”

Bryson doesn’t get very far, because he’s soon surrounded by girls. We watch as Louise Keaton steps up to Bryson. The look on her face is one of pure determination. “Date me, Bryson Keller!” she says.

Bryson looks from her to me. “Sorry, but I’m already dating someone.”

“What! Who?” Louise asks. She scans the girls at her back, searching for any sign of smugness. When she finds looks of dismay on their faces, she turns to face Bryson.

“I was first,” Louise says. “So whoever asked you out did it before you arrived at school. That isn’t fair.”

Bryson shrugs. “No one’s actually asked me out today.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Louise turns to us. “Kai, do you know what he’s talking about?” It seems the chance to date Bryson Keller is enough to make my ex-girlfriend forget that she vowed never to speak to me again.

    “Uh, no.” Maybe someday soon I’ll be able to answer her honestly, but for now I lie.

“So, what’s up?” she asks Bryson.

“Just that the whole dare is over,” Bryson says. “You should tell as many people as you can. I lost. After spring break, I’ll be taking the bus.” He casts a mournful look at his Jeep but smiles when he turns to me.

“Over! What do you mean, over?” Louise asks. Her face is a mask of horror. It’s like she can’t believe this is happening.

All this is giving me a headache. “Let’s head inside,” I tell my friends.

We’re walking toward the school building when Priya suddenly stills. “This bitch.”

Donny and I both stop walking and look at Priya, but her eyes are on her phone. We move to stand at either side of her. Priya has the latest issue of the Fairvale Academy Herald out.

The headline reads Closet Case: What It Means to Be a Gay Teen Now.

“You know nothing,” he said to me once. And through my investigation I realized that his words were true. I do know nothing—about him or the situation he faces. To most of us, coming out is an abstract notion, but to some, it is a life-or-death moment. The thing that defines them. And in high school, where labels run rampant and everyone wants to put everyone else into a box, gay teens are forced to conform to what society deems the norm.