I didn’t sign my name on the canvas, so no one knows it’s mine, and no one is looking at me until I step up by my piece and start talking.
“Um . . . okay, I’m not really good at this sort of thing.” I try not to fidget with my shirt, and I catch my mom’s eye. She gives me an encouraging nod. I take a deep breath and look straight at Bo so everyone knows what’s about to happen. There are a couple of gasps in the small, but growing crowd. Bo’s covering her mouth with her hands, and I can tell from her eyes that she’s smiling. The crowd gets bigger as more people make their way to my piece, but they go silent. I unfold the paper from my pocket because I know I’ll forget the words I practiced if I don’t read them. The paper shakes in my hand. I start reading and brace myself for the public booing.
“Bo, I know public demonstrations are more your thing than mine”—that gets a couple of chuckles—“but I want to be more like you. I don’t want to apologize about who I am, or how I look, or what I feel. I think you’re amazing, and inspiring, and beautiful, and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. Will you go to prom with me?”
She doesn’t give me any time to be anxious, because she’s hugging me the second I’m done asking. No one boos. Silence.
“Is that a yes?” I ask. She nods, and then kisses me in front of everyone, and I kiss her back. Cesar is the first to start cheering, and I feel Bo’s lips turn up while we kiss. Mine do the same. Someone else whistles, then a few others follow. I’m too happy to care what the rest of the crowd thinks.
“Okay, break it up, that’s enough!” One of the other teachers shoos us away from my piece. I grab Bo’s hand and we run outside the gym together like we’re running from an explosion. Amber, David, and Cesar follow us.
When Mom and Bo’s parents finally come out, I brace myself for their reaction. My mom already knew I was going to do this, but what if Bo’s parents don’t approve?
Emma reaches out and touches my shoulder, offering a warm smile. “I’m proud of you. What you did was really brave.”
Once again, I find myself grateful for the brown skin that hides my blush. “Thanks.”
“So how’d you convince this one to go to a school dance?” Rick asks me while he gently shakes Bo by her shoulders.
“It wasn’t that hard.” I laugh.
Ms. Felix and Principal Cappa walk out, and my fight-or-flight reflex kicks in. I try to ignore that I can hear them arguing as we walk away.
“Who wants ice cream?” I ask.
Bo and I hold hands the entire time, right in front of everyone.
After the regular morning prayers and pledge in language arts on Monday, the usual announcements play on the TV. One of the students is interviewing our principal. I was tuned out for most of it, but when he mentions prom, I’m fully listening.
“This is a reminder of the types of things that are appropriate during prom. We want to keep a wholesome environment, so inappropriate dancing will be given one warning, then you’ll be asked to leave. Couples, make sure to leave room for the Holy Spirit—that means one foot of space! The dress code will be strictly enforced, and anyone not following the dress code will be turned away at the door.
“It has also come to my attention that there has been some confusion around the rules. I want to be clear that Slayton Catholic does not endorse romantic same-sex couples for prom. We will be updating our code of conduct effective immediately to avoid any further . . . mishaps.”
He keeps talking, but I can’t hear anything else. Everyone is staring at me and Bo. Pretty much everyone already heard about what happened at the art show. My hands are shaking and I want to be anywhere but here. When the announcements are over, it’s not Bo who speaks up. It’s me.
“Well, I appreciate the subtlety of announcing to the whole school that Bo and I can’t go to prom. That was super discreet and sensitive.”