I walked into Mr. Simmons office at my lunch period the following afternoon. He was on the phone, and asked me to take a seat in one of the chairs. I sat down, and began reading my new book while he continued talking on the phone.

He hung up the phone, and Mr. Simmons began to sit down in the chair opposite me. “So,” he began, sitting down, “how have you been?”

I figured that it would come up sooner or later. I honestly would’ve wanted it out of the way sooner. “I blew up at my dad and stepmom yesterday for their anti-gay views.”

Mr. Simmons adjusted his tie, realizing it was crooked. “Why?”

“They like…talking about their views on marriage equality. Especially at the dinner table. They’ve done it for the past, like, three years.”

Mr. Simmons began telling me about the LGBTQ support groups in the next town over, and his previous attempts in creating a Gay/Straight Alliance, which was vetoed by the school board. “But now, the school board cannot ignore your experiences.”

I gasped. “You didn’t say my name, did you?! You told me that it was confidential!”

Mr. Simmons shook his head. “No, I didn’t use your name. I simply told them that there was a student who was suffering due to his, or her, sexuality.”

I sighed, relieved. “Thank you.”

He told me that the school board had finally begun cracking down on all forms of bullying, and that he was going to work to make sure that I, along with everyone at school, felt safe to come to it.

It was nice, for the short time. But there was always a downside.

The school assembly for anti-anything bullying was held on a Monday afternoon, outlining its no-joke policy for it. The jocks, obviously, took it as a joke. It threatened the hierarchy of the school. Of course they didn’t take it seriously. But they should’ve known better when, by Wednesday afternoon, half the baseball team had detention. Others were suspended or threatened expulsion by the end of the school week.

Suddenly, school became so safe.