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Page 7 of I Can’t Even Think Straight

Wednesday: The Boys—Lunch Hall

“Matt’s a beast at boxing,” says Nathan.

“Yeah, man.” Kwesi joins in.

“I was scared when TJ paired me with him.”

Kwesi is Nathan’s right-hand man.

The rest of The Boys,

Kojo, Abdi, and Sam, are TV canned laughter

played on Nathan’s cue.

They reach across their lunch table

or around each other to fist-bump Matt

or pat him on the back.

Matt smiles with fake modesty,

loving this attention.

He said he got no air with them,

but they’re really gassing him up.

This is the right kind of attention,

I imagine Matt thinking.

I can’t tell if Matt’s brought me

to sit with them

to quell the speculation

about our sexuality

or to show off

his newfound popularity.

We’ve never sat with

Nathan and The Boys

at lunch before today.

None of them have ever

spoken to me outside class.

I’ve kept out of their way,

and they’ve let me be.

Matt’s summer of boxing

has changed everything.

They seem to respect him,

and so, I guess they have to

tolerate me, his best friend.

Matt and I come as a pair.

“You gonna come boxing with us

sometime, Kai?” Kwesi asks me.

I feel like Kwesi’s been watching me closely.

Like I’m a question he can’t answer.

Like I’m a word he can’t remember.

We’re in several classes together,

but this is the first time

he’s chosen to speak to me.

We’ve been paired together in Spanish

but that was Senorita Correa’s choice,

not ours.

“ No, gracias ,” I reply.

“ Estoy bien .” I wave away

the invitation to boxing

with a flick of the wrist.

“I have no desire to be punched,” I say.

“I’d like to avoid head injuries

until after GCSEs and A levels.”

A pause.

I don’t care how these boys see me,

but I avoid eye contact with Matt:

I refuse to act straight for his benefit.

I’m determined to be myself,

whether The Boys like it or not,

whether Matt likes it or not.

I can only act straight

when I concentrate on it.

The rest of the time, I’m pretty camp,

and a bit of a clown.

Cue more canned laughter

from The Boys.

“You’re a joker, Kai,” says Nathan.

“Especially in drama.

You could be a professional actor.”

“I don’t know about that,” I say.

“I’d rather write than act.

“Matt’s a better actor than me,”

my devil makes me add.

I look at Matt to see if

he catches my meaning,

but he avoids my gaze.

I’m not being fair to him.

Matt doesn’t act straight;

he’s just typically straight-acting,

like the rest of The Boys.

If Nathan likes me, the rest of The Boys

don’t have a choice but to accept me

because Nathan is their leader

and they are Nathan’s minions.

My eyes settle on Kwesi,

who is still watching me.

What’s he thinking?

“You could write a boxing film.

Matt could be your leading man.”

Kwesi says this like he knows something,

or more like he wants to know something.

Nathan jumps in:

“The next Michael B. Jordan.”

The Creed film franchise

and Matt’s boxing prowess

are the topics of conversation

for the rest of lunch.

In the space of a single summer,

Matt has become

one of The Boys,

and Kwesi has become

one to watch.

Does Kwesi know I’m gay?

Is he gay, too?

Why is Kwesi watching me?

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