Sara Read Online Free

looked back and forth between us, and nodded. She crossed the hall and disappeared into her room.
    â€œYou sure you’re okay?” I asked.
    â€œYeah, I’m fine,” he replied, but as I turned to open my own locker I could have sworn I heard him whisper, I’ll see those assholes burn in hell.

Chapter Two
    Â 
    By lunch, I was pretty sick of hearing about Glenn’s locker.
    Apparently, our principal, Mr. Lafferty, had the custodian or someone paint over that whole row of lockers by the end of first period. I guess they figured they couldn’t just paint his black, so they did them all. The entire hallway smelled of fresh paint—you couldn’t miss it. Glenn and the other kids with lockers in that row couldn’t get into their lockers until just after third period. The way everyone was talking about it, you’d think nothing else had happened in the world over the summer.
    I’d known it was going to be rough going that first day, but I had no idea what it was going to be like. I couldn’t help but notice some kids would stop talking when I got close enough to hear what they were saying, or for them to notice me. They’d smile at me guiltily and say hello, and then would talk really loudly about something else—a movie, some TV show, football, class, anything but what everyone else was talking about— there’s a gay kid going to Southern Heights now!
    And I knew some of them were wondering about me. After all, I was still his best friend, right? So maybe—
    And every class, without fail, right after the bell rang and attendance got taken, the teacher delivered a lecture. You could tell the ones who didn’t want to stick up for the gay kid—they didn’t even pretend to not be reading off a piece of paper Mr. Lafferty had given them.
    And then there were the ones like Mrs. Drury. She was literally shaking with anger as she lectured us about the importance of diversity, of accepting and appreciating our differences. “Even if you don’t understand them,” her voice rose, “you cannot simply hate someone simply because they are different. It’s wrong. Imagine how boring the world would be if everyone was the same! I know some of you watch Ellen Degeneres on television.” She went on, naming some openly gay and lesbian actors and musicians. “I know it seems strange to you that Glenn is gay, but view this as an opportunity to learn. Ask questions, do some research.” She leaned back against the front of her desk and folded her arms. “When I was in college”—Mrs. Drury was in her late twenties—“I met some gay and lesbian students. And you know what? They weren’t any different from me, other than being attracted to people of the same sex. They had two eyes, two arms, two legs, and all they wanted was to have friends and be liked, not be judged for having the courage to openly live as who they really were. That takes a lot of courage.” She glanced around the room, her jaw set, as if daring someone, anyone, to contradict her. “Think about that for just a minute. Think about how brave it was of Glenn to tell the whole world who he is, knowing that some people were going to judge—even hate him—for it.”
    As she went on and on, I couldn’t help thinking that even though she meant well and was doing what she thought was right, it was probably going to backfire and make things worse for him. It always amazes me how adults forget what it’s like to be kids. And when she gave us a homework assignment about the whole mess, to write an essay about something about each one of us that made us different from everyone else in the school, I groaned to myself.
    Yeah, making us write an essay about it is going to make us like Glenn better.
    When the bell rang, Mrs. Drury stopped me, She didn’t say anything until we were alone in the room, and she shut the door.
    â€œI’m