but it was in the newspaper this morning, and it’s scary. It’s called Proposition 6, and if it passes, gay people will be banned from working in public schools. If a straight teacher so much as supports gay people, they could get fired, too.
If someone found out about Peter, what would happen to Mom?
And what about me? Would this new law mean I couldn’t get a teaching job someday?
A state senator from Orange County got thousands of people to sign a petition to put the proposition on the ballot next year, so I guess that’ll be the next big election. The anchors talked about it on TV during the election night coverage. They showed footage from Orange County. A hundred kids were in a school gym chanting “KILL A QUEER FOR CHRIST!”
Sometimes it’s hard to remember we live in the same state as those people.
My bare knees dug into the tile, but Sister Catherine was bound to be watching me, so I focused my gaze on Mary. She was standing on a flimsy little wooden table, her head bowed, her hands clasped in front of her. I don’t know if Mary had any brothers, much less any gay ones, but either way, I doubt she’d have gone around spouting off in class without thinking about how easily word could get back to her mom about them.
When the bell rang, I kept my eyes on Mary as the other girls quietly gathered their books and shuffled out the door behind me. Rhonda pretended to drop her pencil, bent down on her way out, and whispered, “Meet you in the bathroom?” before she straightened back up. I gave her a tiny nod.
“You can go, Sharon,” Sister Catherine called dismissively from the far side of the room. She was wiping down the chalkboard. “I’ll speak to your mother soon.”
“Thank you, Sister.” My knees were stiff as I climbed to my feet. She looked at me expectantly, as though waiting for me to apologize, but I just picked up my books and strode through the door.
She was the one who was wrong. Why should I be sorry?
I found my friends in the bathroom. Rhonda and Jennifer had apparently just finished telling Diane what had happened—Diane has Physics that period—because she was laughing, and she said, “She seriously talked about gay stuff to a Sister?” as I stepped through the door.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.” Diane grinned at me. “Do you have a death wish or what?”
“No. I…” I wished I could be having this conversation with Tammy. Whether or not she approved of gay people, she’d understand why I’d stood up to Sister Catherine. She’s as sick of adults acting like they know so much more about everything as I am. “It is historic that Harvey got elected. I don’t see why we can’t talk about it.”
“Harvey?” Jennifer laughed. “You mean the homosexual on the news?”
“He’s more than that.” I sighed. “He has a whole platform to help the city. Gay people don’t just sit around being gay, you know.”
“Yeah, they lie down for that.” Rhonda laughed, too.
“Unless they do it standing up,” Jennifer said, and then all three of them were laughing.
“I heard gay girls do this thing where one of them’s the girl and one’s the man,” Diane whispered, giggling.
“Oh, my God, that’s disgusting,” Rhonda said, but she was grinning. She didn’t look disgusted at all.
They turned around, as if they expected me to join in the fake-disgust parade, but I had no idea what to say. And in the end I didn’t have to say anything, because just then the door swung open behind us, and my mom came straight in without her usual warning.
“Girls,” she said shortly. The others must’ve figured out the situation fast, because they all slunk out of the bathroom without so much as glancing back at me.
“Mom…” I swallowed. “I can explain.”
“No, you cannot.” Mom crossed her arms. There were dark circles under her eyes. “You are never to speak that way to a teacher again. To a Sister!”