I hadn’t explored the fabric of the 3B social ecosystem in depth. Nor was I inclined to do so. There were so few of us it was easy to trace the uncomplicated web of relationships that largely centered around seat assignments.

All the students in 3B spent their spare time gossipping about celebrities, drinking cheap booze, and swapping STDs. This was all conjecture on my part. But I was reasonably certain I was right on the money. Rich kids only came in one or two models.

Everyone left me alone for the most part, possibly because I didn’t fit any of the prescribed molds, possibly because of my own sparkling personality, or possibly because of my association with Jun. He was clearly persona non grata due to his mysterious, and possibly disturbing past.

The latest rumors? He was some kind of drug dealer. He fenced stolen goods for his thieving relatives. He’d been caught bringing a switchblade to school and threatening a student or a teacher—people were always hazy on the details.

It wasn’t until Jun was absent one morning that people found me remotely approachable. During a break between morning classes a few of the dude bros came up to me. They were bonded by their love of soccer. Football. Whatever.

“Hey Williams, a few of us get together Saturdays to play. You in?” The kid asked in his posh British accent. He juggled the ball he was carrying a few times before catching it and spinning it on one finger. How impressive. I was tempted to knock it out of his hands to see what he would do. I managed to avoid that childish impulse, but didn’t manage to keep my big mouth closed.

“Look, Big Ben, just because we’re stuck in the same class here doesn’t mean you’re obliged to befriend me. I know there are slim pickings here, but I’m not looking to build any kind of rapport with you or your buddies on the ‘football’ field.”

He muttered something under his breath to his buddy and they both turned their backs on me. Could I have handled that more delicately? Sure. But I figured I may as well start out as I meant to finish. Outside of their potential talent in the sack, dumb jocks were not my style. Dumb, straight jocks were next to useless.

Unfortunately, the classroom gaggle of girls overheard my exchange with the guys and took the departure of the football crew as an excuse to come swooping in. I guess I was the stereotypical fresh meat, even if I’d been around for a month or so. And they had now pegged me as the “bad boy,” worthy of conquest.

Apparently Jun did not fit that bill, perhaps because he was so bad that he wasn’t of interest. Or they’d already tried to get somewhere with him and failed. Or they were racist as hell. All possibilities seemed equally likely.

The girls circled around me like identically clad vultures in plaid skirts. The Canadian girl seemed to be their ringleader. Her blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail. Her nails were perfectly manicured. She looked at me with her eyes wide and her head artfully tilted to the side. I held up a hand before she could start anything. Not that I expected much excitement over the revelation, but you could never tell.

“Stop. Right there. One: not remotely interested. In any of you. Two: very, very gay. Are we clear?”

She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again. The other girls remained blessedly silent as well. At precisely that moment, Jun walked in the door with a note from the office to explain his tardiness. I wasn’t sure whether he’d caught my declaration or not.

I stood up to get a drink of water before class started up again. When I walked back to my desk, people parted around me—giving me a very wide berth. Because I was gay or because I was a jackass? It was always a tossup with these sorts of things.

It seemed to take forever to cross the room. Jun, already seated, was staring at me with a vaguely disgusted expression on his face—so he had heard the news.

“What, never seen a bona fide faggot before?” I asked him when I sat down. He made no effort to move away from me, but he stiffened in his seat.

Fantastic. I wanted nothing more than a desk of my own. Instead I had to share my space with a sinfully attractive homophobe with the personality of a slug.

*

My dad came home drunk. Again. Well, he came home just shy of drunk. Again. Honestly I felt like I was the parent waiting for my wayward son to come stumbling in from an evening carousing with his unsavory friends.

“So exactly when do you get out of this company hazing ritual?”

My dad ran a hand through his thick hair. “Not sure. At this point, I don’t see an end in sight. I’m still a novelty item. And they say it is to better my Japanese and improve team morale.”

“Damn. So we’re both being punished for our lack of linguistic prowess.”

“Smaller words, son. My brain isn’t working that fast.” He sank down into one of the large cushions on the floor and leaned his back against the wall.

“Small words? Japanese no good. I not escape tutoring.”

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “How was your day?”

“I think I put my foot in it a little, but it shouldn't be too much of a problem. Damn it’s been a long time since I outed myself.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Any repercussions?”

I cracked my neck. “Well, they might have been okay with the gay in 3B, but I was kind of a jerk about the big reveal.”

“Shocking.”

“Hey. Supportive dad mode, activate.” I pretended to glare at him. “I doubt most of the class cares. But my Japanese desk partner didn’t seem all that thrilled to be sharing his space with my gay ass. And based on his reaction, I think I might keep the gay on the downlow at math club for now. I don’t need any more negative attention there.”

“Fair.” My dad nodded. “Can you get me a glass of water?”

“Don’t your legs work?” I asked. But I got him a glass from the kitchen. “How was your day otherwise?”

He took several gulps of water before answering. “It was fine. Although I imagine it’s a lot easier to teach students who are paying tuition than it is to teach company employees who are being required to take a class.”

“Bunch of whiny bitches who won’t listen to your directions?”

My dad rolled his eyes at me. “Language. I’m sure things will improve.”

I wasn’t so sure things were going to improve on my end, though. I was going to have to deal with Jun every moment of every day—with no time off for good behavior. And that had been bad enough before he knew I was gay.

I was not anxious to find out what the next day had in store.