I hurry to the mural and set up my camera. I wrote on my plan that I’d expose it for twenty seconds, but twelve seconds in, I bump the oatmeal box with my elbow. The shot will be ruined if I don’t cover the pinhole. I strap the cardboard flap over it with the rubber band and rush back to class. I’m the last one in the room. Ms. Bernstein gives me an irritated look.
The whole bus ride home, I go back and forth about what to do. By the time I get off at my stop, I know all the shouting I’m doing in my head is totally pointless, that it’s time to tell Daniel. Like right now. Before Bella outs me.
I bike to the tent slow as witch’s snot in January, even though I should hurry so I beat Mom home. I’m gonna lose Daniel over this. He’s already mad I told Bella. I don’t think he’ll team up with a bunch of scumbags to pin me in the grass and yank my head back and dump Gatorade up my nose while he screams “Flip-flop freak!” at me. But I didn’t think Tyler would either, and now there’s a video of it all up on the interwebs where anybody can find it. Thanks to Camille, who I still haven’t talked to since I yelled at her for posting it.
I should’ve known someone here would figure it out. That moving was only a temporary fix. That I couldn’t hide it when I switched again.
I’m so doomed. My whole life is gonna be like this.
Daniel is curled up with Chewbarka by the tent, looking miserable. “Hey,” I say quietly.
He nods but doesn’t look up.
“Can I sit down?”
He shrugs.
“I didn’t tell her you have her,” I say. “She doesn’t know it’s you.”
He looks at me sideways, then down at his feet.
I take a deep breath. “She’s going to . . . tomorrow, she’s going to tell people . . . about me. Um.” I tuck my hands under my legs. “Like that’s . . .” A flattened laugh comes out. “The price I’m paying. To keep her in the dark about you having Chewbarka. I’m gonna . . . let that happen. To keep your secret. Okay?”
Daniel just looks confused.
My heart is trying to wham its way out of me. “There was this guy. Um. At my old—where we used to live, our old apartment complex. I liked him. His name was Tyler. He—”
Daniel’s phone rings the “Radiate” tone. The liquidy minor chord ripples through the air between us. He looks at the screen. “It’s the vet. I have to answer.”
I nod, frustrated and relieved at the same time.
“Hello?” Daniel says.
“Daniel,” a guy with a deep voice says. The phone volume is turned up enough that I can hear every word. “Explain why my client Mark McBrenner says his daughter told him a kid at school has their dog. The one I euthanized last week.”
Oh no.
“Um—” Daniel’s voice is a squeak. He clears his throat. “Um, I’m not sure?”
“I know Tina didn’t finish the euth. But she doesn’t go to Oakmont Middle. You do.”
“Um, what’s—what’s going to happen to Tina?” Daniel’s gone white as a sheet. He looks like he’s about to hurl.
“Tina’s been fired. Where’s the dog?”
“I don’t—I don’t know.” He looks at Chewbarka sniffing a tree.
“You need to bring the dog back.” The guy sounds furious, even over a tinny phone speaker. “Immediately.”
“I can’t,” Daniel whispers. He hangs up. And right away he’s sobbing. “They know,” he chokes. “They’re gonna kill her.” He stumbles over to Chewbarka, grabs her, and hugs her tight.
Chewbarka struggles in his desperate grip. I take her from him as gently as I can. He doesn’t want to let her go, but I can tell he knows he needs to so that he doesn’t hug her too hard. “Look,” I say as calmly as I can. “This might be the only way to save her. What if we give her to Bella and—”
“No!” He covers his face with his fists, his shoulders shaking. “How can you say that?”
“She loves her dog. She was crying when she realized Chewy was still alive. What if there’s a chance she could talk her dad out of it? I don’t even like Bella, but it’s the only thing I can think of that might save—”
“You’re just saying that so she won’t tell everyone whatever you’re hiding!” He presses his face to his knees. “You’re just trying to save yourself!”
I lean back with the dog, feeling gut-punched. “I just told you I’m letting her out me. To protect you and Chewbarka. Did you miss that?”
“Out you? What, you’re . . . are you gay? Then why’d you kiss—”
“I’m not—I mean maybe, I don’t—” I groan in frustration. “I was trying to tell you. Before the vet called.”
“Oh yeah. You were telling me about some guy you liked.” He finally looks at me, his teary eyes all anger and confusion.
“Yeah.” I swallow. It’s now or never, so I guess it’s now. “Tyler and some other kids pinned me down and screamed nasty stuff at me. My friend filmed it and posted it. Tyler poured purple Gatorade up my nose. Because I told him who I am.”
“Wait, that’s—that was the bullying? He hurt you?” Daniel has about a hundred expressions on his face. “What does that mean, who you are?”
“I’m—I’m Ash. That’s it.” My lunch wants to come back out. “Like sometimes Ashley. Sometimes Asher. But always just . . . Ash.”
“You’re—oh my god.” He leans away from me. “You’re saying you’re a guy?”
“Not always. I mean, I am now. But I wasn’t before.” I sound like the flip-flop freak the Bailey bullies said I am. But . . . it’s a strange relief to have it out there.
“I kissed a guy,” he says. “You’re telling me I kissed a guy.”
“You kissed me,” I tell him. “Or I guess I kissed you, really, but I was a girl then and . . .” I feel so sick. “But I mean—would it be so wrong? If you did kiss a guy?”
Daniel stares at
