Proud of me, p.16
Proud of Me, page 16
I’m so out of it that I don’t even notice Jayden running up behind me until he slaps me on the back.
“Hey,” he puffs, leaning over to catch his breath.
I keep on walking. “Hey.”
“So what was all that about at the weekend?”
“All what about?”
“You know, you disappearing, Becky phoning me trying to track you down. Something about someone called Eli?”
“What?”
“Where were you? Obviously up to something you didn’t want Becky to know.” He nudges me with his elbow. “Plus you didn’t come to football. And you haven’t replied to any messages all weekend. Why didn’t you let us in on it? Come on, spill.”
“Oh, that,” I say, trying to come up with a good excuse. “Nothing really, just a mistake. I lost my phone – I’ve still not got it back – and my mum needed something at home, that’s all. You know, just parents worrying about nothing.”
“Sure? Really?” Jayden looks disappointed. “I thought it was going to be something interesting. I thought you were in loads of trouble or you’d sneaked off with Carli or something.”
“No, sorry.”
He shoots me a disbelieving look. “You’ve been really weird this term, Josh. Really weird.” And then he walks off.
When I spot Carli at break time and see Archie in English they look as anxious as I feel. The day flies by. Becky tries to find some of the others from photography club at lunchtime to see what they think about our plan, while Alex gets word round the rest of the Pride group.
And when the bell goes at the end of the school day, there’s a whole crowd of us gathered in the lower corridor. A couple of people have brought friends, so there’s even more people than there were at the last meeting.
Alex knocks, and Ms Bryant shouts, “Come in!” She looks surprised as, one after another, we all file into her classroom.
“A delegation?” she says, raising her eyebrows. “To what do I owe the honour?”
Ms Bryant’s not a scary teacher, but she’s got a very dry sense of humour and doesn’t like people wasting her time.
We look at each other nervously. Silence. Then several people all start talking at once. We’d decided to come and see Ms Bryant, but not what to say when we got here. We don’t even know if Carli’s mum has already been into school to see her.
“Okay,” says Ms Bryant, holding up her hand to quieten us down. “Sit down, all of you. Alex, go on, you go first. I’m all ears.”
“We wanted to talk about the Pride group,” Alex says. “We’re worried that…I mean, we heard that…well, that perhaps some people aren’t happy with us meeting and because of that maybe the school won’t want to support the group any more.”
“Ah,” Ms Bryant says, closing the book she was marking and adding it to the pile on her desk. “I see.”
“And so we thought if we could show everyone just how important the group is and why it matters so much for LGBTQ students – well, for everyone really – then we’d be safe.”
“Not just safe,” Becky butts in. “I mean, it’s fine meeting in a classroom, hidden away, that’s safe, but that’s not enough, is it? It’s called the Pride group, right, so we should be proud.”
Ms Bryant leans back in her chair and looks round at our worried faces. “So why are you telling me this now? I agree with you, be proud, be out there. The only thing to remember is that not everyone might be ready for that yet. I mean, they might feel safe in the group but not ready to be out in public. That’s okay too. And, anyway, you’re already doing it – look at all the plans you’ve made – an assembly at the end of term, that’s being proud, that’s really visible. If you’re worried that you don’t have support from the school, then take it from me, you do.” Her voice quietens. “I do understand how important this is.”
“So, if someone’s parents complained…” asks Carli nervously.
“Then we’d talk about it with them, we’d listen, we’d work something out together. It’s a three-way partnership at Larkhall – teachers, parents and students – you know that. But that’s for me to worry about, not you.”
“The assembly…” says Becky. “That’s brilliant, but it’s not for ages. There’s something else we want to do, something this week.”
“This week?” says Ms Bryant. “Okay, tell me about it.”
“Well, it’s IDAHOBIT this week…”
“That’s the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, Interphobia and Transphobia on the seventeenth of May,” explains Kai eagerly. I notice they’ve got even more badges than usual on their blazer today.
“Thanks, Kai,” says Ms Bryant drily. “I’m up to speed now.”
So we explain what we’d like to do, how we’ve thought it all through and that we wouldn’t need any help. Ms Bryant tries to suggest that we take more time to plan it properly, to give it a few weeks, bring some more people on board, but eventually she realizes that we’ve made up our minds.
“Go on then,” she says. “And good luck. You know, I’ll be first in line.”
“I don’t see why we had to get up so early,” grumbles Josh as we walk into school together. “We don’t have to get anything ready till lunchtime.”
I’ve been awake for ages and desperate to get out of the house. I practically had to drag Josh out though. I hope he’s not getting cold feet about today.
Things are gradually thawing with Josh and Ima – maybe she and Mum have been talking things over or the yoga’s calming her down – but even so, it’s been a strange atmosphere at home since the weekend.
I’m not sure what Mum and Ima would think about what we’re doing today. I hope they’d be pleased if they knew, but, by doing this, we’ve created a whole new secret without meaning to. That’s why I just wanted to get up and go. To be doing rather than thinking.
Mum and Ima have always been clear: our family’s nothing to be ashamed of, but nothing to draw attention to either. We’re normal, just like everyone else. Some things are, well, not exactly secret, more private, to keep within the family. Just in case. In case of what, I’ve never been sure.
I struggle to concentrate all morning, and I can tell Archie’s distracted too. He starts working on entirely the wrong problems in maths – algebra instead of fractions – and takes ages to notice that he’s doing a different thing to everyone else. My mind keeps wandering. I can’t help thinking that this was all my idea – what if everyone laughs at us, or no one’s interested and it’s a disaster? But also I can’t wait. As soon as the bell goes for lunch, Archie and I run out of the classroom and head outside.
We put out the tables in a spot we know most people will pass. They’re piled with card and coloured markers. The sun’s shining and there’s no breeze, so we don’t have to worry about things getting wet or blowing away.
The Pride group are there first, but once they start writing their signs and I take their photos, a crowd soon gathers around, asking what we’re doing and what’s going on.
“We’re trying to get as many people as possible at Larkhall to show their support for LGBTQ rights – kids from every year, and teachers too,” explains Kai to a group of Year Nine girls who’ve gathered around the table, curious. “You just have to write a message here.” Kai holds up a piece of blank card. “No swearing though! Or you can use one of these.” On the table are cards with the slogans we brainstormed and googled at Archie’s house at the weekend, written out large and colourful: Love = Love, Pride Not Prejudice, Here and Queer, Love Knows No Limits…
“You don’t have to have your face in the picture,” says Josh to a nervous-looking girl on the other side of the table. “We can just show your hands holding the sign if you like.” She nods, relieved.
“What are you going to do with the photos?” asks one of the girls.
“We’re doing a display for the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, Interphobia and Transphobia tomorrow.” Kai takes a breath.
“That’s IDAHOBIT for short. The photos will go up all over the school tomorrow, so that anyone who walks into the building will know straight away that it’s an LGBTQ-friendly place to be,” says Kai. “You can do it in a group if you want.”
They check each other’s hair, choose their signs and strike a pose.
“My uncle’s married to a man,” says the tallest of the girls to her friends after the photo’s been taken.
“Never!”
“Yeah, I was their bridesmaid when I was little. Just wait till he knows we’re doing this. He’d love it. Here, let me take a photo of us too, I’ll send it to him.”
I’m running from person to person, taking as many pictures as I can. It’s frantic and I’m not sure I can keep up. At last, I hear a voice behind me.
“Becky, sorry I’m late, I wanted to get lunch first, but I’ve got my camera, what do I need to do?” It’s Prakesh from photography club, and a couple of the others are with him too. They’d said they’d help, but I didn’t know whether they really would. Relieved that it’s not just me and my camera any more, I point them in the direction of a couple of grinning Year Elevens, who are holding a sign which says Come Out for LGBT.
I’m actually enjoying it.
At first it was a bit awkward. Standing there as people walked by, wondering if anyone would stop. An idea that seemed good in Archie’s living room didn’t seem so good now, in front of the whole school. What if everyone just ignored us? Or worse, laughed at us.
And it would all be Becky’s fault, and mine for encouraging her.
I felt sick. I wondered if anyone would notice if I just went to the loo and didn’t come back. But Becky would, and I didn’t fancy her getting mad at me again.
So I stayed. And people began to stop at our table and get involved. Then I was too busy to feel sick or awkward or anything any more.
Well, I was enjoying it, until I saw Jayden sauntering over. I hadn’t noticed till now just how much he’s starting to look like his big brother.
“This is stupid. Why would I want to have my photo taken?” he says, his voice rising above the babble and laughter. “I’m not gay, am I? Not like Josh, eh?”
“You don’t have to be LGBTQ to take part,” Carli says quickly, shooting me an anxious look. “That’s not the point. It’s about equality for everyone.”
While she’s speaking, I step forward. I should be the one putting Jayden right. She shouldn’t have to do that for me. But when I open my mouth, no words come out. I want to be calm like Carli, but I don’t feel calm. My fists are clenched in my pockets and my face is going red. I don’t know what to say to Jayden, so I just glare at him.
He glares back. “Josh, what are you doing wasting your time with this sad bunch of losers?” he sneers. “Unless it’s true, that you are gay too…just like everyone else in your family.”
How does he know about Becky? Or is he just saying the first thing he can think of to wind me up? When I still don’t say anything, he shakes his head. “Shame. No one wants a gay guy on their team, however good you are. My dad says—”
That’s it.
“No one cares what rubbish your dad says, okay? Why don’t you try thinking for yourself sometime?” I burst out.
A few kids still waiting to have their photos taken turn around to look at us. Carli puts her hand on my arm, I think to try and calm me down, but I ignore her.
Jayden leans over the table, knocking some of the pens off the side. “What are you saying about my dad?”
“Come on,” I snap back. “I’m not saying anything. It’s just that no one here cares what he thinks. Specially when it’s something so stupid.”
“You’re jealous, that’s what it is. But just cos you’ve not got a dad, it doesn’t mean you can slag off mine…”
“Shut up. I don’t need a dad. Not to tell me what to think. Or for anything. I’m proud of my family how it is, thanks.” I take a deep breath and slow down. “Now, are you here for a photo or are you just wasting our time?”
Jayden doesn’t say anything else. He’s not used to people standing up to him. He turns, pushes past a couple of girls and stomps away. As I watch him go, I wonder, was I really that desperate for friends that I didn’t notice what he was like? That I didn’t mind?
I look back over to the table. Ms Bryant is standing there. Mr Ross is next to her, chatting to Archie. She looks serious. She must have heard everything. I wonder if she’s going to tell me off, but instead she just gives me a quick nod and turns to Prakesh, who is hovering next to her with his camera.
“Okay,” she says briskly. “I’ve got my sign, where do I stand? I’ve got a meeting in five minutes, so I need to be quick.”
“Wow,” Carli whispers to me. “What you said to Jayden, that was awesome. He was so out of line.”
“Well…” I shrug. “It just kind of came out. It was all true though.” And, as I say that, I realize that it was. Totally true. However much I might want to have a dad, or a brother, or to know the answers to all my questions, I don’t need any of that to be okay or to be happy or to know who I am. I’ve got everything I need from Mum and Ima and Becky. I look round at the Pride group, busy taking photos or holding signs or just laughing and chatting. What’s more, now I’ve got real friends too.
I’m so lost in these thoughts that it takes me a moment to realize that Carli’s still talking. “You knew just the right thing to say,” she continues. “Not like me. I got the group into trouble in the first place, didn’t I? And messed up things with Becky. Perhaps I should keep my mouth shut a bit more…”
She falters for a moment, looking past me, through the fencing to the road outside. I turn to follow her gaze, but I can’t spot whatever it is that’s stopped her in her tracks. Eventually she drags her eyes away from the road back to me.
“None of that’s your fault!” I tell her.
“You know, don’t you? About Becky and me, why she’s not really talking to me any more?” she asks quietly.
“Er…” I stutter, looking down. What’s the right answer? What does she think I know? What am I supposed to know?
“It’s okay,” says Carli. “I know you and Becky talk about everything. You’re so lucky to have someone in your family you can talk to like that. So, you’ll understand what she’s thinking. Josh, do you think it will be okay? I really like her, you know. Not like that, but like…well, it’s just she was my first real friend here.” She sighs. “I feel like I’m always making friends and then leaving them behind. Just waiting till the moment that we have to say goodbye. We’ve moved so many times with my dad’s job that sometimes I think it’s not even worth trying, it’s not worth the hassle. But with Becky it was different – and now she’s mad at me and I don’t know what to do.”
“She’s not mad at you, honestly,” I say, quickly looking over at Becky to check she’s not listening. It’s okay – she’s busy setting up another photo with some sixth-formers and not paying any attention to us. “I think she’s just embarrassed. I think she’d want to make up but, even though she talks all the time, she’s just not very good at knowing what to say. I think she misses you.”
“Mmm…” says Carli vaguely. Then suddenly she grabs my sleeve. “Let’s go inside,” she says. “Just for a minute, I, er, think we need some more pens. I can get them from my locker.”
“But what about—”
“Don’t worry,” she interrupts. “No one will miss us. There are loads of people here to help now. Look, we’ll be back in a moment anyway.”
When we’re inside the school building, instead of heading for the lockers, she turns down the corridor towards Ms Bryant’s classroom. There’s hardly anyone around. It’s such a sunny day that most people are outside.
“Where—” I start saying, puzzled.
Carli puts her finger to her lips and glares at me. “Sssh!”
The classroom door is slightly open and there are voices coming from inside. They’re muffled though and we have to strain to hear anything.
Ms Bryant’s voice becomes clearer as she moves nearer the door. “Do take a seat, Mrs Peters,” she says.
There’s some shuffling and then someone else starts speaking, but they hardly say anything before Ms Bryant starts talking again.
“First of all, I’d like to say how happy we all are to have Carli at Larkhall and how glad I am that you’ve come in to catch up about how it’s all going.”
I gasp. Of course, it’s Carli’s mum in there. Carli must have known she was coming in today. What’s she going to say?
“It’s always difficult when a student starts mid-year,” continues Ms Bryant. “But as her head of year, I’m pleased to tell you that Carli’s done extremely well – making friends, catching up with her schoolwork despite the different curriculum, getting involved in activities. I’ve spoken with Mr Ross, her form tutor, and he says the same. I’m sure you must be very proud of her.”
I look over at Carli. She smiles briefly and blushes at the words from Ms Bryant, but she still looks tense. She’s waiting for her mum to speak.
“Well, thank you. I’m glad to hear it. It’s the activities you mentioned that I wanted to talk about…”
“Oh yes,” says Ms Bryant. “Carli’s quite an athlete, I hear. She’ll be a definite asset to our teams. I know some parents worry that training gets in the way of homework, but we believe it’s really important for all students to have a rounded experience at school – not just the academic work. I’m sure you agree.”
“Yes,” says Carli’s mum. “But I’ve not come in to talk about sports…”
“Oh?” says Ms Bryant blandly.
It’s obvious that Ms Bryant knows exactly what Carli’s mum is here to say, but she’s going to make her spell it out. Ms Bryant’s showing that she’s in charge.
“No. Now, I don’t like to complain, and I appreciate all that you’ve said about how well Carli is settling in, but to be frank, I’m very concerned about this so-called Pride group that I’ve heard takes place here. I don’t think there’s any place for that kind of…” She pauses. “…homosexual agenda in schools. Not at an age where young people can be so easily influenced.”
