None of the Above by I. W. Gregorio Page B

and a couple of football players came over and I sensed them closing in. Fear dried my throat.
    â€œYo, Kristopher,” one of the guys said. “You here to give Sam-I-am another rimjob? He’s got the lube ready for you.”
    Sam slammed his locker shut and I jumped.
    â€œCan it, Luke,” Sam said. Then he turned to me, pointing his index finger at my mouth. “You stay away from me, you hear?”
    â€œOh no, are you breaking up with your boyfriend, Sammy? Maybe I can make it up to you tonight.” Bruce gave Sam the goose and Sam elbowed him in the neck. “Oooh, come on, baby. . . .”
    His friends walked toward the gym, and as Sam turned to follow, I grabbed at his arm again. This time, when he pulledaway, a thread of his sweater caught in my fingernail. He rounded on me. I could feel the muscles in his arm spasm.
    â€œSam, please . . . ,” I begged. “Let me explain.”
    â€œWhat the fuck is there to explain?” Sam said. His eyes were bright, like there were tears hovering in his eyes. He leaned in, and I allowed myself to hope that he was going to listen. But instead he just whispered, “I thought I loved you, you fucking man-whore. And you’ve been lying to me. I have nothing to say to you. Ever. Again.”
    He turned and left before I could explain that I hadn’t known for that long, that I hadn’t been lying. But what would have been the point? Because how could I ever convince him that I was telling the truth?
    I collapsed against the lockers, and slid down into a crumple. Above me, people turned to stare as they hurried to class. I couldn’t see their faces through my tears, but I could feel the pounding and shuffling of their feet as they walked past.
    The bell rang. The ground went silent. And I began to process how deeply I had been betrayed.

CHAPTER 14
    I spent first period in the girls’ bathroom, using a paper towel soaked in cold water to bring down the puffiness in my eyes. Then, after the bathroom cleared a few minutes before the bell rang, I dragged myself to the north-wing stairs and waited.
    In less than a minute, I heard a pair of uneven steps echoing through the empty hallway. Even after she’d transitioned to a soft cast, Vee’s teachers still let her out of class early so she could get a head start on the crowds. I’d been her bag carrier long enough that I knew her schedule by heart.
    She froze when she saw me, and stared at me as if I were a stranger, not the person who physically carried her part of the way to the school nurse the day she broke her leg.
    My hands clenched as I turned toward her. “How could you do this to me, Vee?”
    â€œDo what?” she asked, seeming surprised, but that wasVee. Always an incredible actress.
    â€œYou told,” I said, my voice still stuffy with tears. “Everybody knows. Sam, too. How could you? I had the right to tell him myself. I would’ve been able to make him see that I’m the same person. I’m still Kristin. Not a freak.”
    â€œWait a second, wait a second.” She put her hands out as if she were stopping traffic. “Calm down. I told Faith, but you’d already told her part of it. I did not tell Sam.”
    â€œThen how does he know? Who else did you tell?”
    â€œOnly Faith, I swear!”
    Something about the tension in her shoulders and the set of her jaw told me she was lying. “No one at all?” I pressed. “Really?”
    Vee squirmed. She actually squirmed, and it should have been a victory, but instead it was a disaster. “Okay, fine. I told my mom—”
    â€œOh. My. God. You told your mother?” I wanted to throw up.
    â€œI mean, what was I supposed to do?” she said defensively. “I had to tell someone. It’s all so fucked up. I mean, I was so traumatized—”
    â€œ You were traumatized?”
    â€œWhatever, I was in shock. So I told my mom. And she said