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Chapter forty-five

Mike

Walking back into my classroom after a peaceful weekend in the mountains was like stepping into a storm, a storm made entirely of teenagers, loud voices, and an obscene amount of Axe body spray.

Jessica, dressed in the shortest skirt allowed by school policies and wearing more makeup than Tammy Faye on a bad Sunday, had spotted me the second I walked in, her eyes lighting up like a cat who just found a mouse with a broken leg.

“Ohhh, Mr. Albert,” she purred, flipping her hair over her shoulder and then twirling it with her forefinger. “Back from your little getaway? Are you ready for a real woman now?”

I sighed, dropping my bag onto my desk. “Jessica, please. It’s too early.”

She grinned. “Did you have a good time? Were there candles? Rose petals? Did you and your mysterious, rugged, blue-collar lover stare longingly at each other in the firelight? I doubt his boobs are as perky as—”

“Jessica!” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You really need to stop reading those romance novels.”

“Never,” she declared.

The football players in the back, my own personal Greek chorus of chaos, had apparently been listening because they immediately jumped in.

“Yo, did you consummate the relationship?” Caleb asked, leaning back in his chair like we were in a bar and not a public school classroom. “How’s that even work? They don’t cover the gay sex in anatomy or sex ed or any of those classes. Is the gay sex like—”

“Caleb,” I snapped. “Stop saying ‘the gay sex’ please.”

“Okay, the gay screwing.”

“Caleb, I swear to God.” I stared at him. “I will put your scrawny butt in detention until you’re forty years old.”

Troy, my most obnoxious but somehow most lovable student, smirked. “You so did. Look at him. He’s glowing.”

“I am not glowing.” I rolled my eyes. “I moisturize.”

“Is that part of the gay screwing ritual, Mr. Albert?” Caleb asked, receiving a round of raucous laughter and jeers from his peers in the back.

“You are glowing.” Jessica gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, Mr. Albert, did you get laid so good that it changed your whole personality? Are you preggers?”

The entire class exploded.

Chairs scraped against the floor, students howled, and I seriously considered calling out sick and running straight back to the mountains.

I held up a hand. “All right. All right! Everyone calm down—”

“WAS IT LIFE-CHANGING SEX?” Troy shouted like he was calling a play in a packed stadium.

I groaned. “Troy!”

Even Jamie, sitting quietly near the middle, was snorting into his sleeve, amusement pouring from his eyes.

I rubbed my temples. “Do any of you even remember what today’s lesson is?”

Caleb raised a hand. “Yeah, but, like . . . did you do it in front of a fireplace? That shit works with girls. Is the gay screwing ritual the same? Do fires enhance the experience?”

Jessica sighed dreamily. “You know he did.”

I walked straight to my desk, dropped into my chair, and pointed at the board. “Everyone shut up and open your books.”

Despite the absolute disaster of an introduction, the class actually settled in.

And, somehow— miraculously —the football and baseball boys in the back had actually done their reading. I damn near fell out of my chair when Troy correctly answered a question about symbolism.

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “You read the assignment?”

Troy scoffed. “I always read.”

Caleb snorted. “Dude, you so do not.”

Troy shrugged. “I did this time.”

“Are you sick?” I narrowed my eyes. “Is this a prank? Are you trying to impress someone? Did someone threaten your scholarship?”

Troy gasped dramatically. “Can’t a man just love literature?”

The class laughed.

I shook my head. “Something is off here.”

“I just felt this one.” Troy shrugged, looking way too smug. “It spoke to me.”

Jessica snorted. “Bro, it was a chapter on existential dread.”

Troy nodded solemnly. “Exactly.”

“You know what?” I sighed. “I don’t even care. I’m proud of you. Good job.”

Troy grinned. “I’m proud of me, too.”

I rolled my eyes and flipped open my book.

When the bell rang, I glanced at Jamie and gave him a small nod. “Jamie, hang back for a second, would you?”

Jamie blinked, adjusting the strap of his backpack. “Uh, yeah. Sure, Mr. A.”

The other students filed out, laughing and still deeply invested in the ongoing saga of my love life.

Jessica winked at me on her way out. “Next time, bring details. Photos are welcome. Videos preferred.”

“Get out, Jessica.”

She laughed, disappearing down the hall.

I turned back to Jamie, who looked mildly concerned.

“Uh . . . am I in trouble?”

“Should you be?” I smiled.

He paled—even further than his never-seen-the-sun skin already was.

“Jamie, no, not at all. You’re not in trouble.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly.

I motioned for him to sit. “I actually have good news.”

Jamie dropped his bag onto the floor, sitting on the edge of a desk. “Yeah?”

I took a deep breath, my grin stretching across my face. “The principal approved the LGBT group.”

Jamie froze.

Like, literally froze.

For a full five seconds, he didn’t move. He barely breathed.

Then—

“No fucking way,” he whispered.

“Language.”

“Sorry, but . . . shit . . . sorry . . . seriously, fuck! Sorry.”

I laughed and gave up on playing teacher for the moment.

“We did it.”

“No way,” he said, eyes wider than I believed was possible—or likely medically advisable.

I nodded. “Way.”

Jamie inhaled sharply, his hands clenching the edge of the desk. “Holy shit.”

I laughed. “Yeah.”

“Dude. Oh, my God.” I watched as his brain caught up, as the reality of it sank in, and something in his expression shifted.

His throat bobbed.

His eyes shimmered.

“Mr. A,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “This is . . . this is huge .”

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, it is.”

His breath hitched.

Damn it, my breath hitched.

I reached out, gripping his shoulder. “ You did this, Jamie.”

He shook his head, his voice trembling. “No, I—”

“You did,” I insisted. “This started because of you, because you were brave enough to talk to me, because you were brave enough to want more.”

Jamie bit his lip, trying to hold it together.

I was far too close to losing it myself.

I gave his shoulder a squeeze. “We’re gonna have an opening night, a meet-and-greet, for both kids and parents. Mateo and I are working on the details, but I wanted to ask—do you want to help us plan it?”

Jamie blinked at me.

“Mateo?” he echoed, his whole face morphing into a human question mark. “Coach Mateo Ricci? The basketball coach?”

I smiled and nodded. “Mateo is one of my closest friends. He’s agreed to be a co-sponsor of the group.”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Jamie, language,” I said, reaching my cool teacher limit.

Then, without warning, he laughed, bobbing his head. “I—God, yes. Of course. I’ll do whatever. Help, organize, make flyers. What do we need? What should we do?”

I grinned. “Good. We have a lot to get done and a very short time to do it all.”

He exhaled shakily, rubbing at his eyes.

And then—when I thought he was about to say something else—

He bolted for the door.

I blinked. “Jamie—?”

He stopped at the threshold.

Turned around.

And then—

He ran back to me, threw his arms around me, and hugged me tight.

I stilled. We weren’t supposed to touch the students. Gay teachers really shouldn’t. That’s how rumors and jeers and—well, fuck it. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him just as tight.

His breath was shaky against my shoulder, his grip strong, like he was holding on to something bigger than just me.

Something he had needed for so long.

Something we were finally giving him.

My chest ached.

I squeezed him once before pulling back, looking him in the eyes.

“You’re gonna change lives, Jamie.”

Jamie sniffed, nodding furiously. “So are you.”

I smiled.

He smiled back.

And when he left, practically floating out of the room, I knew—without a doubt—that this was the most important thing I had ever done.