The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School(97)
“There you guys are!” Bo comes up to us, and I shut the door so she can see. Her eyes go wide for a second, then they start snapping around the courtyard, daring anyone looking at us to mind their business.
“No, let them watch,” I say, and then I reach for her hand and kiss it to piss off whoever did this.
“Are you okay?” Bo asks. Her face is a little red.
“I’m fine.” I hold her hand like a lifeline. My cheeks and ears are on fire, but I know whoever did this is watching, and I won’t let them win.
Bo lets go to unzip her bag and take out a Sharpie. She scribbles out the word UGLY and replaces it with PRETTY, and circles it with a heart. I laugh much harder than the situation calls for.
“Don’t worry,” she says, taking my hand. “They get bored quick if you don’t let it get to you.”
She squeezes my hand, and we walk to detention together.
After Bo and me, there’s a steady stream of students flowing into detention. Much more than usual. Bo and I have to sit at separate tables, so she sits at one facing me so we can still see each other. They don’t allow anyone to sit directly next to each other in detention, so we all spread out at the tables across the cafeteria.
But the flow of students walking in doesn’t seem to stop. I look around and find Cesar, Hunter, David, Amber, Emily, and a ton of other people in the cafeteria who I know don’t have detention. Within a couple of minutes, there’s at least forty kids milling around the room.
David and Amber take their seats as close to me and Bo as they’re allowed, and before we know it, the tables have filled up. Everyone starts standing against the walls. They’re orchestrating a sit-in for me and Bo. I meet eyes with Cesar from across the room, and he gives me a thumbs-up. I want to cry, because after everything that’s happened with him recently, he’s still in here supporting me. That’s just how we are with each other. I’m there for him, and he’s there for me, no matter what.
At first I think Bo is behind this whole sit-in thing, but she looks as surprised as I am. No one gets out any homework. They sit silently with those of us who actually have detention. It’s so quiet we can all hear Bo’s sniffle. I look over at her and see her wiping her cheeks. I want so badly to go over and hug her. God knows I need one too. But we’re not allowed to talk or move, except to go to the bathroom. She looks at me and smiles, which is a relief. She’s happy crying.
I smile back. Maybe we can’t go to prom, and maybe some people here will always hate us, but it’s not just me and Bo saying this is wrong anymore. Everyone in here has our backs. I feel like we made progress today. I feel like we won.
I hold my breath most of the car ride home, waiting for Mom to kill me. Any second now.
Or not.
She doesn’t bring it up the whole ride. I know she was sort of in on the whole promposal plan, but she’s not the most consistent person in the world. Especially when it comes to me getting in trouble. It keeps me on my toes.
She doesn’t say anything about detention in the car. Or when we get home. Or during dinner. I finally ask her because I can’t stand the suspense.
“Mami . . . did you talk to Mr. Cappa?”
“I did. I had some words for that man, let me tell you.”
“What?” I want to ask if he told her about me getting sent to the office, but I don’t want to get myself in trouble if I don’t have to. Maybe she’s talking about a different Mr. Cappa?
“Sorry about prom, mija.” She puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Mr. Caca ain’t shit, all right?”
I let out a snort at my mom calling the principal “Mr. Caca.” “Thanks.”
“Damn, Mom’s a thug!” Cesar says.
“Why are you so surprised, huh?” She clicks her tongue.
“I thought I would be in trouble,” I say.
“For what? You didn’t do nothing wrong. You followed the rules and then they changed them. That’s not right.” She shakes her head, then grabs our empty plates and walks to the kitchen. She only takes our plates for us when she’s proud of us or mad at us. For the latter, she doesn’t wait for us to finish.
The stares and whispers don’t stop on Tuesday. I can’t tell who’s on my side or not, and it’s infuriating. I wish I could read their minds so I know who to shoot with my laser vision and who to bless with my smile. I wonder how long this will last. Was Bo a celebrity too when she first came out? She probably got even more attention, since she was the only one at the time. Then again, shippers gonna ship, so people are all excited that there’s a gay couple at their very own Catholic school.
At lunch, Bo, Amber, and Emily are whispering to each other.
“What are you being all secretive about?” David asks.
Instead of answering, Bo stands up on the table and pulls a freaking megaphone from her backpack.
“Can I have your attention, please?” she shouts, and the room goes quiet.
“As some of you may have noticed, I won’t be attending prom anymore. I know I’m not the only one here who doesn’t agree with the rules. So, this is for anyone who feels disenfranchised by this school or the code of conduct, or if you want to be able to wear what you want, and dance without leaving room for Jesus. I’m going to be hosting anti-prom at my house. Same time as regular prom. And one more thing.” She hops off the table and puts the megaphone down. She gets on her knee and takes my hand. Everyone goes dead silent so they can hear what she says next. “Yami, will you go to anti-prom with me?”