Page 71 of Exchanged

“Because you’re a backward hick who treats people like shit.”

“This is the opposite of ignoring him,” I say.

“You can’t be that picky,” Evan tells Garrett. “You settled for this fairy.”

“You’re going to want to shut the fuck up,” Garrett growls.

“Or what? You’ll ass-rape me?” Evan turns to me. “Does it hurt? When he—”

“We’re going,” I say, forcing myself between the two of them. There’s a fire in Garrett’s eyes that scares me, that reminds me of the night he went off on that player on the football field. I push at his chest.

“Dude,” Tyler tells Evan, emerging from his locker, “leave them alone.” He steps forward, his shoulder acting as a buffer between the two of them.

Garrett glares at Evan for a beat longer, breathing hard, then gives in to my pleas and my pushing. We turn around, lock hands again, and resume our walk to chemistry.

“Your parents,” Evan calls at Garrett’s retreating back. “Were they so desperate to get their fag son out of their house that they sent him to Michigan?”

I know it’s coming before it happens. Garrett’s hand is no longer in mine and he’s rushing at Evan. Tyler has moved back toward his locker, leaving Evan and Garrett unchecked. Garrett collides with Evan full-on, and the two of them fall to the floor, a jumble of backpacks and limbs. Evan lands the first punch, and I see blood spray from Garrett’s nose before the two of them are blocked from view as people form a circle around the fight. Phones come out to record it.

The next few minutes are a blur.

I try to get to them but can’t make it past the mass of bodies in my way.

At some point, Mr. Maki and Ms. Virtanen push through the crowd and manage to pull the two of them apart.

Another teacher yells at everyone to get to class.

I catch a glimpse of Garrett and Evan as the teachers usher them toward the principal’s office. Garrett glances at me over his shoulder, his lip puffy and bleeding, a bruise forming on his cheek.

And then the hallway is empty, as if nothing ever happened.

Tyler tells Ms. Hammond, the principal, everything Evan said before the fight, getting him saddled with a two-week suspension. Garrett receives a week’s worth of detention. Ms. Hammond calls Dad, and he picks us up early.

It’s quiet in his truck for a moment as he pulls away from the school. “So,” he says, eyes trained on the road, “what happened?”

I glance at Garrett. He’s leaning against the window, pressing an ice pack to his face.

“It was Evan’s fault,” I say.

“That’s what Ms. Hammond told me,” Dad says. “But what actually happened?”

Garrett didn’t hesitate to hold my hand in front of half the school this morning, showed no fear in the seconds before he rushed Evan, but now he looks apprehensive. Dad is the one person he hasn’t wanted to tell about us.

“Evan said some stupid shit,” I say.

Dad raises his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

I glance at Garrett again. He closes his eyes and sits up straight, lowering the ice pack into his lap. He looks like he’s steeling himself before a firing squad.

“Enzo and I,” he says, “were holding hands. We’re … we’ve been dating for a couple weeks. Evan saw us and made a big deal about it and called Enz a fag, so I tackled him.”

“Oh,” Dad says, and then he’s silent for a minute. He pulls into our driveway and kills the engine. He turns to us. “Are you guys okay?”

“What?” Garrett says.

“Believe me, I’m going to have words with Evan’s father.” Dad goes on. “And I’m proud of you for standing up for yourselves. But that couldn’t have felt good. And knowing Evan, he probably wasn’t quiet about it.”

“It really sucked,” I say, “but you caught the part about Garrett and me, right?”