by Dirk Hunter
“I bet stained glass Kai doesn’t have your back,” Kai muttered to himself.
In a perfect world, when I walked into that lunchroom, all eyes would have been on me. Heads would have turned, conversations immediately cut off, maybe even dramatic noontime-shootout-type music would have played. But we don’t live in a perfect world, and all I got was the typical bustle of hundreds of disinterested teenagers.
In a slightly less than perfect world, this disinterested crowd would have casually parted, revealing Adam across the way, bathed in a beam of sunlight, perhaps astride a white horse. But we don’t live in a slightly less than perfect world. Adam wasn’t even in the lunchroom.
In a “not at all perfect but still pretty agreeable” world, Adam would have entered right then, and maybe all the above scenarios would follow smoothly from there. Instead, Mel, Kai, and I had time to wait in line, get our lunches, pay for them, sit at our table, and eat a few begrudging mouthfuls.
Then he arrived.
The entire football team entered the lunchroom in a pack, like they so often did. Adam was at the head of the group. Our eyes met. We came toward each other as though drawn by some irresistible force until we stood at the dead center of the lunchroom, surrounded by almost everyone we’d ever known. I could feel what was about to happen. I began to shake, ever so slightly, as I became terribly aware of everyone being able to see me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. By the way his eyes darted around the room, I could tel Adam felt the same way. Is this how he always felt when we were together in public? I think I was mostly feeling it out of sympathy and expectation, but even so it was nearly overwhelming. Would he go through with it? Finally acknowledge me in front of everyone? I could see him teetering on the edge of a decision, torn between fear and determination.
Then he kissed me.
It was short, awkward, and somewhat off-putting. But all the same, it felt as though someone had lit off fireworks in the building, a choir of angels began to sing sweeping love ballads as the earth quaked and volcanoes erupted heart-shaped plumes of molten rock and clouds of ash wrote large our names across the heavens, all somehow rolled into the time it took for a single hurried peck on the lips. It was like the world stopped turning and said how about we just take a minute to savor this moment. I half expected the entire lunchroom to burst into an expertly choreographed song-and-dance number before the curtain slammed shut and the audience went home all teary eyed — after a standing ovation, maybe a few encores.
In reality, it was a two-second affair that went largely unnoticed. I mean, Will Davis’s eyes were bulging nearly out of their sockets, a couple of Adam’s jock buddies had quizzical looks on their faces, and someone (almost certainly Mel) whistled loudly. Everyone else in the lunchroom just went about their day. Except for Tiffany saying “Well, that makes a lot of things make sense.” Adam’s de facto coming out went entirely unremarked upon. But strangely, Adam looked unhappy.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “What is it?”
“I’m fine. It’s just, you spend your whole life being afraid, like really dreading something, and then nothing happens…. I know I should be happy, but instead I’m….”
“Disappointed?” I finished for him.
“Yes!” he said. “That’s exactly it. Is that weird?”
“No. I mean, yeah, kind of, but I get it. It’s like, what was the big deal, then?”
“And why did I go through all that trouble to hide it if no one even cares?”
“And you want people to care.”
“Or at least notice!”
“Don’t worry,” I said, “I got you. Oy,” I called over my shoulder to Tiffany. “Bitch, you did not just ignore me when I’m trying to start some drama.”
“Oh right,” she said. “Let me try again.”
Adam looked confused “What does she mean —” I interrupted him by grabbing his head with both hands and kissing him. This time, Tiffany’s shrill shriek cut through the lunchroom, disrupting the casual hustle-bustle.
“Hands off my man, you slut!”
This time heads turned, and the rapid susurrus of gossip filled the air.
James gave us a thumbs-up and Charlotte shook her head. We were instantly the center of attention. The only two people who weren’t focused on us was that new kid and Will Davis, who appeared to be trapped in a heated discussion. But I didn’t pay them any mind.
“That better?” I asked.
“I expected a bit more chaos. At least some outrage,” he said.
“Wait for it….” As always, Mel was quick on the uptake. She leapt up on the table, pointing like a madwoman, and screamed, “Death to gays! ” With her other hand, she let loose a mushed-up clump of Tater Tots, which expanded in the air to splatter across several tables.
In my experience, there are a few things high schoolers will leap at the opportunity to do. Things like gossip and finding any excuse to avoid homework, and anything that even implies sexy times. But more than anything else, the kids of Oak Lake High constantly itched for a food fight. As our classmates, en masse, turned the lunchroom into a war zone, Adam kissed me again, this time slowly, luxuriating in the moment.
Around us, meatballs exploded against walls like fireworks, a choir of screaming girls filled the air with sweet music, and the floor shook as people dove behind tables. Heart-shaped squirts of spaghetti sauce abounded and, if I could have taken a picture at the exact right moment, I’m sure one of the many airborne tangles of noodles would have spelled our names.
“Now this is more the fanfare I expected,” Adam said with a smile.
“Strangely, not too far from what I was picturing too.”
PRINCIPAL HAYES regarded us over steepled fingers. “What am I going to do with you two?”
Adam and I shared a look. “Whatever do you mean?” Adam said. He was innocence incarnate.
“You incited a riot.” Hayes said flatly.
I scoffed loudly. “We can hardly be held accountable for other people’s actions. To imply otherwise would be a refutation of free will, to say the least.”
Hayes sighed. “Am I to believe your… actions to be another misguided attempt at theater?”
“Naw,” Adam said. “This was clearly an attempt at performance art.” “Adam wanted to cover himself in blood and run through the hallways naked, but I talked him out of it.”
“Don’t give me that look, Mr. Hayes. It would have been pig’s blood.”
“Right.” Mr. Hayes pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “What am I going to do with you two?”
“You already said that,” I remarked.
“You could give us both detention. I’m sure we’d find a way to pass the time.” Adam’s grin bordered on evil.
“Just get back to class,” Mr. Hayes said, waving us away in defeat.
Adam put his arm around my shoulder as we walked out of Hayes’s office. “It’s good to be back,” he said.
“Isn’t it? Bye, Mr. Hayes. We’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure.”
About the Author
DIRK HUNTER grew up in a small farmhouse just west of Beleriand before it sank. He currently lives in Southeast Minneapolis, where he spends most of his time writing, playing video games, and desperately trying to avoid fading into the West.