the clock. Traditionally, the lock-in party began at midnight. There were two ways this could go: they could tear the chains off those well-meaning rabble-rousers, or they could give the girl what she wanted. The list had been long, around thirty items, more than one having to do with boats. No way would those be done by midnight.
But the way those kids were tied up, it didn’t seem like someone could just waltz in with bolt cutters. For one, the chains and locks looked like they’d been picked out specifically to resist bolt cutters. Not to mention that there was nothing keeping Marisa and the others from placing their hands in the way and forcing CIS to chop off a finger or two to gain the others’ freedom. CIS was far from perfect, but the administration did tend to avoid physical altercations with the students, especially involving tools and lost fingers. So neither option particularly called out to Peejay as the most favorable for his personal interests. Did CIS even have bolt cutters?
As the hubbub in the auditorium started to build, Peejay thought about what would happen if the school started sending locksmiths around the campus to find a way in. They’d discover the booze and the earphones, and sweet little Diego twiddling his sweet little thumbs. He sent a text telling Diego to scope out a hiding spot for the contraband while all this boiled over.
So, if neither option was ideal, what was Peejay to do? It came down, as always, to Hamish.
In the future (perhaps even in the morning? Hamish’s recovery occurring midparty), when he told Hamish about the night, when he came bragging to his brother about a lock-in party that included everyone, even the teachers, he wouldn’t want to have to admit he had a role in helping the administration sweep these protestors under the rug. The party notwithstanding, he knew his brother would not approve of squashing down those fighting for what was right. Hamish had a righteous streak, and Peejay knew exactly what option his brother would opt for.
If there was a kind or decent bone in Peejay’s body, it had been placed there by Hamish. The way he saw it, Peejay wasn’t born as anything special. He was special now, but he was made that way by association. In his eyes, Hamish was the reincarnation of the Buddha, the Christ, Vishnu, whatever standard for goodness there existed. Hamish was what humanity should aspire to.
When Peejay came out to his family, his parents might have only smiled and said, “Okay,” then tried to never bring up the matter again. That is, if it weren’t for the way Hamish embraced his brother and showered love on him, telling Peejay that who he was and who he loved would never cause him to lose his family’s love, not a single ounce of happiness they could bestow upon him.
With Hamish’s words out there, his parents became believers, too, not just abiding by Hamish’s proclamations but truly embracing them. Peejay had seen it in their faces, the initial discomfort (not hatred, never that, but not acceptance, either) giving way to joy. There had been negative reactions, of course, especially among less understanding relatives and neighbors. Even the Scottish side of his family, less religious, and supposedly more welcoming, had stiffened when they heard the news, and seemingly had no idea how to speak to Peejay at the last family reunion a year prior.
Or maybe it hadn’t been that easy at all. Maybe there had been more hatred than Peejay would have been able to stand, more discomfort in his parents’ eyes than he could bear to admit. Maybe it was just Hamish shielding him, the brightness of his brother’s love making the shadows feel less dark. After all, Peejay hadn’t seen his favorite uncle on his father’s side since he came out—hadn’t even received a birthday visit, as was the custom in their family.
Still, the experience had been better than Peejay had expected, and he attributed it to Hamish. His brother’s love had the ability to change people. That love had certainly left its mark on Peejay—he firmly believed that a lifetime of sheer proximity to Hamish was the only reason Peejay enjoyed the status he had at school. And if it wasn’t by mere proxy, but by his own actions—confronting bullies in the hallway, attending less popular athletic events such as the badminton junior varsity games, to cheer on those who rarely had an audience (Go, Sea