Did the dramatic image on the banner pique your interest in The Yankee? How pugilisitic... Just who is being violent? The Yankee? Those who titled the character by such a term? Hmm....

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"Mister Payne! We do not use that language in this classroom!" I turned and saw Mrs. Griffin standing with her hands on her hips, visibly angry.

Don't ask me why, I was feeling like a smart-ass. Personally I blame the new clothes. "I'm sorry," I said contritely. "I won't use the 'Y' word again."

She glared at me. "That's not what I meant, and you're well aware of that."

"It's only descriptive," I replied with a shrug. "Hardly an insult."

Rick was looking at me in shock, his mouth open. "You mean, you..."

"Yes, Rick," I said solemnly. "It's true. I'm... from Massachusetts. I'm sorry, I didn't want to tell you, I knew you'd be upset." Rick responded to that in the only way possible -- he pitched one of the couch's throw pillows at me. A couple of the other people in the class started to laugh.

"Justin, that wasn't funny."

"Yeah, it was and you know it. That might have been my first joke ever. Consider yourself privileged." I stuck my tongue out at him. "Besides, it's not like it matters. At least three of the other guys in here go for guys too," I said, waving vaguely at the class.

When I said that, one of the guys in the front row started getting angry. He was an effeminate kid, and managed to swish even sitting down. I'd bet he got the crap kicked out of him regularly. "Not you," I said. "Unless that redhead I saw you with earlier had two guys stuffed under her shirt you're straight. Sheesh, you were staring her straight in the nipples." I paused. "Oh, and if you're going to do that? Don't wear boxers with loose pants." It was kind of a pity he wasn't gay, since the display had been... nice.

"By the way, I'm Justin," I said with a wave. I figured I'd better distract him before he felt too bad.

"Trevor," he said, coming over to sit on one of the couches. "I can't believe you just came out in a room full of people. In school."

"Huh? Why? I'm not 'in'. Don't much care who knows. I mean, what're they going to do? Jump me in the parking lot?" I snorted and put on my best Bronx accent. "They mess with me, they gonna be regretting it, y'know what I mean?"

"Say that again," said Mrs. Griffin, her voice sharp.

 

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