Exotic - Chapter 55: Chapter 55

Ms. Hudson gestured for Aidan and Caleb to sit as far apart as the room allowed, which would have been fine if she hadn't placed me as a barrier between them. I crossed my ankles, tucked in my elbows, and tried to make myself as small as possible, hoping Ms. Hudson would forget I was there if I averted my eyes long enough. Flanked by Caleb and Aidan, I didn't imagine it would be hard to go overlooked.
"Mr. Stewart."
Damn it. I looked up with a tight expression, a picture of guilt to be sure. Ms. Hudson tilted her chin down to look frostily at me over her glasses. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realise she wasn't going to continue before I responded. I cleared my throat, louder than intended.
"Y-yes?"
How one stammers over a single word, I wasn't sure, but I was full of tricks that morning.
"I've had the pleasure of never meeting you in here, though I'm fully informed of your... track record," she announced ominously. "You barely have the required attendance to graduate thanks to your behaviour last year, though that hardly makes a difference when your grades are poor enough to hold you back a year all on their own."
My mouth felt stuffed with cotton balls, soaked up of all the moisture so I could only push out a barely-there, "I know," before sinking in my chair and hanging my head.
"Though your teachers have seen a vast improvement over the last few weeks – I understand we have our wonderful OLOT tutors to thank for that – what I am trying to impress upon you here is that you are on extremely thin ice, Miles. Do you understand?"
My tongue felt swollen in my throat, and all I could do was nod.
"So, I would recommend being truthful from here on out," she spoke very properly, without an ounce of pity as she tore my academic record to shreds in front of the entire office. I glanced back at Alba, who looked resigned, and Aaron, who appeared to be sweating despite Ms. Hudson's air-conditioner running so high that the office felt like a circle of hell. Maybe it kept her heart cold enough to head Truman High School. "Mr. McCaffrey. I must say, we have to stop meeting like this."
Aidan stared daggers down into his lap.
"And Mr. Proust. That is a surprise to say out loud, outside the context of an assembly," she admitted. I couldn't help feeling like I had gotten off the worst out of the three of us. "This is the kind of situation I would prefer to settle amongst my fellow educators before calling you in, but I'll admit, I'm at a loss."
Before she could clarify what she meant, Mr. Troutman spoke up, sending a rainstorm of spittle down on everyone's heads as he barked out. "I want him put through the wringer, Sandy. I don't care what kind of year he's had."
Ms. Hudson's piercing glare soon had him correcting himself to her proper title, with a cursory 'ma'am' thrown in for good measure. I didn't like Mr. Troutman's tone, which rang with the barely contain temper of a discharged military sergeant, but since he could have been referring to any one of the three of us, I wasn't sure yet if I was a witness or target. At least there were a decent amount of bodies packed into the room I could shield myself with if he was referring to me.
"In due course, Mr. Troutman," Ms. Hudson practically sneered. There was no love lost between them, it was clear. She turned her attention back to us, specifically me, being in the centre. "I've had quite the morning. I'd only just settled when half the bloody faculty came bursting in with cries of vandalism, violence and vicious rumour-spreading. I believe you boys each know something about at least one of those, if not all?"
If I hadn't been paralysed on the spot by her glower, I might have complimented her poetic prowess. She enjoyed a bit of alliteration. I might have also responded more playfully aghast to her use of 'bloody', but I really didn't want to be expelled in front of Aidan McCaffrey.
Surprisingly, it was Aidan who spoke up first, in his own defence. "Proust shirt-fronted me. Ask literally anyone. I think he bruised my ribs," he added on sullenly, for effect.
Caleb didn't say a word to deny or affirm what Aidan had said. He didn't even twitch at the accusation. He was reclined on his chair, features soft and relaxed, only looking up to meet my eyes after I'd started to stare. He gave me the smallest curl of a smile.
"Is that true, Caleb?" Ms. Hudson turned her terrifying attention to him. "You are aware of our no tolerance for violence policy, yes? The one that got Mr. McCaffrey kicked off your team if I'm not mistaken?"
Caleb didn't bat an eyelash, which might have actually helped his case. His blank expression was doing nothing to assure Ms. Hudson of his innocence. "Yes. I mean, he's been doing it for years, but finally hit someone publicly enough for you to have to do something about it. But in this case, you're just going to take his word for it? How progressive."
Ms. Hudson's expression became even stonier if that were at all possible. Suddenly, it seemed I wasn't her least favourite person in the room. "Funny, I don't remember you being such a staunch spokesperson for bullying in this school when you and Mr. McCaffrey were still cozy."
Caleb flustered and bowed his head in acknowledgement. Ms. Hudson, clearly pleased to have won the bout, turned back on me. "Mr. Stewart, I'm going to ask you this once, very plainly. Did you have anything to do with the vandalism on the school this morning?"
I tensed, ready to blurt out the truth. Ms. Hudson probably had her ways of dragging it from me, and I would have preferred to leave her office with my mind intact. But my eyes pulled to Aaron, who was shaking his head ever so slightly. He'd earned my trust above all else. Against my better judgement, I frowned in performative confusion. "Someone vandalised the school?"
Ms. Hudson winched. "You aren't taking Drama as a subject are you?"
I squinted, suspicious she was leading me to a trap. "No, ma'am."
"Good," she shuffled some papers ominously in front of her. "If that was the level of acting to expect from you, I would have feared for our mid-year production."
What followed was a couple of seconds of awkward silence, before Aaron pipped up, shaky and clearly unsure as to whether his place in this meeting included the right to speak. "I think... I can clear that up, Ms. Hudson."
Ms. Hudson startled and stared as if she was only just remembering he was still there. "Mr. Sanchez. I didn't realise I hadn't dismissed you."
Aaron visibly gulped, possibly regretting turning her attention to him. He looked to Alba, and with both of them being about the same height I couldn't see exactly what passed between them, but it seemed to be an agreement of some kind.
Ms. Hudson plucked off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Out with it, then."
Aaron opened his mouth and immediately stammered on the first syllable. We were on a roll. "Ye-es. Well, you-u see, uhm, that was..."
I was about to step in and save him by confessing. He didn't deserve the scrutiny I had earned through my decisions. To my surprise, I was beaten to the punch by Alba, who placed a hand on Aaron's shoulder to quiet him and took a sacrificial step forward. "I believe what Aaron is trying to say, without fully incriminating a certain someone..."
I tensed for the impact of Alba turning me in. It was perfectly within her rights to do so, but I suspected that wouldn't make it hurt any less.
"... is that it was me, Sandra."
The entire office turned fully to Alba at that, shock hitting each one of us like a freight train, one after the other. Ms. Hudson's lips parted wordlessly. Mr. Troutman just about fell out of his chair. Caleb let out a tiny laugh of disbelief. I just stared, unable to summon the words I needed to keep Alba from getting herself fired on my behalf. What the fuck was she doing?
"I'd ask you to repeat yourself, Ms. Hassan, but I'm not deaf," Ms. Hudson finally squawked out. "What in god's name are you telling me right now?"
Alba rooted around in her handbag for a moment, before pulling out the offending can of red spray paint. There was an audible gasp from Mr. Greene and Dr. Foxe as Alba placed the can on Ms. Hudson's desk as Exhibit A. Ms. Hudson dragged her chair forward to peer at it closer, as if it were an exotic specimen.
"I would like to maintain that this act of vandalism was done out of concern for student's wellbeing," Alba continued, stepping back and folding her shapely arms. "When I arrived at school this morning, the area in question was already vandalised. The graffiti contained an identifying piece of information about a student at Truman that I believed would compromise their privacy and cause unfair backlash from their peers. The spray can was carelessly left behind, so I took the liberty of censoring the information before it could spread. Miles was present, hence being placed at the scene, but he did not assist me with any illegal acts. Any reports you have gotten stating otherwise are mistaken.
"It was an impulse decision that I maintain was in the best interests of the student, considering it will cost the same to cover the original defacement and the adjustments I made, which of course I am more than happy to pay out of pocket. That is all."
She walked back to the walk and retook her position beside Aaron, who was staring at her in awe. I was feeling pretty lightheaded myself. She'd maintained eye contact mostly with Ms. Hudson throughout her entire speech, but as she turned, she threw me a subtle wink and gave me a terse pat on the back of my chair. I slumped in my seat, amazed and relieved. Not only had Alba saved my bacon, apparently, but she had also taken it upon herself to engage in vandalism to cover my half-finished memo. Or maybe she was covering for Aaron. Either way, I couldn't help but smile; entirely to myself, worried that Ms. Hudson would see and interrogate it.
"Care to share this 'identifying information'?" Mr. Troutman asked, lightly and smugly just how I imagined anyone would ask for gossip in the staff room.
"No," Alba said bluntly. "I don't believe that all in this room would appreciate its sensitivity."
She didn't break eye contact with him the whole time she was speaking. Mr. Troutman shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Right," Ms. Hudson almost sounded shaken, before replacing her glasses and furrowing her brow. "Well, I think this is a matter that requires... further discussion in private. But... I cannot see you committing an act of vandalism without good cause, Ms. Hassan. Let's shelve this for the time being."
Alba nodded coolly, tapping her fingernails on the outsides of her folded arms. "Now that's cleared up, can I ask Aaron and Miles are dismissed? I believe this next rather sensitive conversation should be kept between..."
"Absolutely not!" I jumped a foot off my seat when Mr. Troutman slapped the arm of the chair, crying out indignantly. "Well. That one can go," he gestured at Aaron dismissively, before shoving an accusatory finger at the side of my head. "But HE isn't getting away with what he's done!"
"Mr. Troutman!" Mr. Greene, who had been decisively silent up to that point, raised his voice above Mr. Troutman's unnecessary volume. "Calm down or leave. That is no way to speak to a student."
"Don't make him sound so innocent. He's practically an adult, he knew what he was doing," Mr. Troutman scoffed. "He's had it out for my team since day one. Whenever there's trouble among my boys, he's there without fail. Don't think I haven't been watching you, Stewart. Stirring people up, causing fights, destroying my years of camaraderie building. Well, this is the last straw. He's a menace and a bloody pervert. I'll see him treated for it appropriately."
I flustered mutely, hating that shame hit me before offence. The word pervert directed at me by an adult man did that. After a second to collect myself, I turned in my seat, cheeks burning with indignation. "Excuse me?"
Mr. Troutman's face twitched slightly in surprise but hardened in a second. "You know what you did."
"Nothing comes to mind," I snapped back, and Mr. Troutman looked over to his fellow faculty for support. Alba looked like a rolling storm cloud, almost vibrating with fury. Mr. Greene and Dr. Foxe were avoiding eye contact with anyone, including each other. Finally, his eyes settled on Aidan, and his resolve seemed to be cemented once again.
"You need it explained to you?" he thundered and stood up with a crack of either the chair or his knees. He towered over me from behind, shading my entire body. "Ms. Hudson, I would like this perjury noted down."
"This isn't a court of law, Mr. Troutman," Ms. Hudson sighed loudly. "Make your point. Without further... intimidation of the witnesses, if you will."
Mr. Troutman nodded solemnly, and straightened himself out like a lawyer anyway, ready to deliver his opening statement to his court of peers. "Aidan McCaffrey came to me this morning. As you know, he has been suspended for several days following an unclear altercation at one of our games..."
"He broke my brother's nose," Aaron supplied, and Mr. Troutman look as if he were seconds from blowing his top. Ms. Hudson nodded to Aaron and raised an eyebrow at Mr. Troutman.
"Nothing unclear about it from what I was told," she said sternly. "Mr. McCaffrey's previous suspension is not the matter at hand here."
"Ah!" Mr. Troutman cried, making everyone in the office flinch at his booming volume. "I won't argue that Aidan acted wrongly that day, but what he has told me may shed light on the why."
"The why..." Ms. Hudson cut in, "... of him head-butting and breaking a fellow student's nose because... what did you say when you last saw me, Mr. McCaffrey? You saw red? Like a carnival bull?"
Aidan looked ready to argue or storm out, but Ms. Hudson's trapping glare wasn't just working on me, apparently. He ducked his head in something akin to embarrassment. Mr. Troutman shook his head in exasperation.
"This isn't about Aidan. This is about this little... this... Mr. Stewart here."
I'd never heard my name spoken with such ferocity from an adult before, especially not one I wasn't certain had even known my name before that day. I dared a glance across to Caleb. He was staring right back at me, which was an unexpected surprise.
He mouthed, Are you okay?
I nodded, and then jerked my head gently back to Mr. Troutman. What the hell is this?
He shrugged, and then mouthed, Fuck him. I muffled a snort of laughter. It did not escape Mr. Troutman's notice, however, and he continued his tirade, more incensed than ever.
"I gave you a chance to tell it your way," he bellowed. Alba stepped forward, probably to tell him he needed to calm down but by the look on her face, she was equally really to punch him in the face. Ms. Hudson held up a hand to her, eyes fixed on Mr. Troutman. I started to scout the room for possible escape routes if this got any uglier. "I'd like to pre-empt this by saying I have nothing against the gays..."
Spoken like a true ally.
"But considering that this boy has been harassing Caleb for the better part of the year so far, I am not going to be mincing words."
I sat up, ramrod straight in my chair. Caleb seemed to choke on thin air, doubling over in his seat to cough up his lungs. Aidan gave me the tiniest, yet most bloodthirsty smile I'd seen from him and folded his arms, adjusting himself comfortably in the chair.
Alba was rushing forward in an instant, eyes wide and incredulous. "Ms. Hudson, I must insist..."
"Stand down, Ms. Hassan," Ms. Hudson spoke low and cold. Her eyes flickered from Mr. Troutman to rest somewhere between Caleb and I. Alba huffed twice, but clamped her mouth tightly shut. "Mr. Troutman, that is quite the accusation. I assume you have evidence?"
"I trust my students implicitly," Mr. Troutman said proudly, clapping Aidan on the shoulder.
Ms. Hudson made a face, but the fact she wasn't shutting any of this down gave me cause to worry. She turned on me. "Mr. Stewart."
Caleb, finally having corrected his breathing, cut over the top of her. "Wait. No one... that's not true, no, if I could just..."
"You'll have your turn, Mr. Proust," Ms. Hudson silenced him with a hand. She looked me up and down as if she were seeing me with new eyes. "Mr. Stewart. Is there any truth to this?"
I stared at her, unable to form a word in my own defence. I was too shaken by Mr. Troutman's presence, hovering over me as if he could grab my throat and start squeezing any second. Ms. Hudson seemed to take this as good as a confession, tutted and turned back to Mr. Troutman. "Continue."
Mr. Troutman, audibly pleased to have the room's full attention, did just that. "Aidan came to me this morning and told me that Miles Stewart has been harassing Caleb over the course of the last few months, including cornering him in the change rooms, lingering after practice, showing up to his games uninvited, and even to his house. Apparently, he's got it into his head that Caleb is gay..." Mr. Troutman laughed brazenly at this, "... and therefore, has been bombarding him with unwanted attention in and outside school. Aidan, in trying to dissuade this behaviour, had gotten into a few altercations with Miles, but Miles countered this by having one of his close friends, Maximillian Sanchez, mess around with Aidan's sister. I'm not saying the kid deserved a broken nose over it, but if some boy was compromising my sister, I might have seen red as well. Anyway, this has all come to head this morning, with Miles here taking his act a step further and telling my entire team that their captain plays for the other one. I can't even imagine what that would feel like, having rumours like that spread. Aidan rightfully bought this to my attention, and I demand that this be treated with the severity it deserves. Looking back, I just wish I had known, so I could have put a stop to it. It's no wonder Caleb has been off his game lately. I just wish you'd come to me, son."
Caleb, having spent the entire length of Mr. Troutman's speech gaping at him, continued to do so. He looked horrified. Mr. Troutman seemed to take it as an expression of pure gratitude, and nodded solemnly to Caleb, patting his tense shoulder before turning back to Ms. Hudson. The hum of the office fan was the only sound for about a minute straight.
Then, Ms. Hudson hit the buzzer on her desk and sighed into the intercom. "Margaret, could you bring my tea from the staff room? I think it will go cold before I can get to it."
Aidan felt it was his turn to speak up. "Stewart managed to turn the whole team against me. All I wanted to do is play soccer and protect my friend."
"This bizarre conspiracy theory cannot be taken seriously," Alba shot Mr. Troutman a devastating glare. "I'm disappointed in you for even giving airtime to such nonsense."
"Of course you'd defend him," Mr. Troutman chortled. Alba reeled back in surprise, hand coming to rest on her chest, visibly outraged.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"If I could..." Caleb started, a pitch above his usual range, but this time I was the one to cut him off with a strangled little laugh. To my ears sounded very hysterical. I was hysterical. This wasn't real, this could not be happening.
"What the fuck?" I hiccuped, turning to Aidan. "You're the one who told everyone, not me. And also for the record, I did not harass anyone. The fucking nerve..."
"Cool it, Mr. Stewart," Dr. Foxe interrupted. "There's no need to bring language into this."
"I have just been called a pervert and a stalker. What about that language?" my voice became more and more strangled as I felt my resilience slip away. My chest was tight, my breathing came hard. I was about to lose my shit in front of everyone. I clapped my hands over my mouth and gasped through them. Everyone was talking at once. Aaron was shouting; I heard him as if I was underwater, my head being dunked over and over by waves. "Oh my god. Oh my god."
"Miles," Caleb was saying. "It's alright, don't..."
"What Stewart, you going to cry?" Aidan sneered. "Set all this up and can't take it when it comes back to bite you?"
My lungs were filled with silicone. My nails bit into my upper lip, and I could only take in air through my nose. I was sure I looked like I was dry heaving. Ms. Hudson finally had the decency to look a little concerned and reached across her desk towards me, as if to reassure me.
"Don't touch him," Caleb thundered from beside me. He sounded far away. Ms. Hudson quirked a brow, plucked the box of tissues she'd been going for from the end of her desk, and held them out to me. I didn't take any, too focused on edging away the panic consuming me.
"Bloody hell," Mr. Troutman grunted out. "This is just typical. Pull yourself together..."
"That's enough!" Alba's voice cut through the rest, a flotation device thrown to me from the ship, a beacon in the dark. I found my way to it and clung, hoping it would hold me there. Alba's tone remained chilled, collected, but I could sense her holding off on her own burst of emotion. "This is completely out of line. Everybody out."
"This is my office," Ms. Hudson said stubbornly. "We're not done here."
"We're done here until Miles is okay," Alba snapped. I could sense her crouching beside me, not touching, never touching, but continuing to speak to me in a soothing tone. "Miles. Listen to me. You're safe. Take your time."
I held onto the word safe, though I felt anything but. Tears raced down my cheeks as I held back sobs, body shaking with the effort. In, and out. In and out. You know how to breathe. It's the one thing you've known since birth. You don't even have to think about it most days. Come on. In, and out.
In, and out. In, and out.
Chanting this, over and over, I managed to raise my head. My throat worked itself open. Aaron was yelling for everyone to shut up. Alba was still kneeling beside me, scuffing her outfit on the nasty carpet. Ms. Hudson was shouting for order, Mr. Troutman for attention. Dr. Foxe and Mr. Greene were doing their best to usher everyone out.
Caleb, who I looked to first, had his eyes fixed on me. His hand was reaching for mine almost subconsciously but was frozen in place an inch from me. He knew touching wasn't what I needed. But his eyes were so firmly on me that I felt as if he was. As if invisible arms were holding me tight and secure. It wasn't restricting, but a comfort.
I reached out and touched his hand. He took this as permission to interlace our fingers and squeeze. It went unnoticed in the chaos of the room, it seemed he couldn't care less if it didn't.
"Miles?"
I looked back to Alba, who studied my face long and hard.
"Hi," I replied.
"Feeling better?" she asked, her gentle voice cutting through the noise of everything else. I nodded an affirmative, and she smiled, taking time to squeeze my shoulder tight on her way up. Her standing to her full height caught everyone's attention, and the cacophony quickly dimmed. She took a deep breath, gathering herself into the picture of calm authority, and turned to Ms. Hudson.
"This meeting is detrimental to the wellbeing of every student here," she said firmly. "Send these children to class immediately, and we will continue this among the adults here. Which sadly means Mr. Troutman will also have to make himself scarce."
The insult was so coolly delivered that Mr. Troutman took a good while to react, puffing up like a bullfrog, ready to explode with another onslaught. It was at that time Margaret the receptionist, choose to enter, carrying Ms. Hudson's cup of surely lukewarm-by-now tea. She padded lightly through the throng of people, looking about warily, set it on the desk, and hurried out, gone as quickly as she arrived.
Though a short interruption, it was apparently all everyone needed to settle. Seats were taken as Ms. Hudson glared on, huffing and puffing kept to a minimum. She took a sip of her tea, made a face, and then set it down before sighing.
"Mr. Stewart, are you alright?" she asked first, and I was surprised to hear her sound genuinely concerned after her until now ice-cold manner. I shrugged because I wasn't sure. She nodded, took off her glasses again, and polished them against her blouse. "I apologise. Mr. Troutman, speak that way to anyone in this room again, and I will have you removed from the school premises."
Mr. Troutman looked like her was going to test her resolve, but decided against it last minute. "I only want to get to the bottom of this. Forgive my outburst, Sandra."
"Shut up," she responded simply. "This is a serious matter. I would first like to..."
"Can I please say something before we crack open the school codebook?" Every head turned to Caleb, who was looking beyond exhausted. Ms. Hudson opened her hand, offering him the floor. He turned in his chair to Mr. Troutman, locking him into a staring contest. "Absolutely nothing you have said since you opened your mouth is true. You are regurgitating complete bullshit. I'd like that on the record, and also, fuck you, Aidan."
"Language," Dr. Foxe murmured, but her protestation was weak.
Aidan leaned across in his chair, encroaching on my space, but he only had eyes on Caleb. His nostrils flared. "Shut up. I'm doing you a favour, just shut up."
"A favour?" Caleb's retort was entirely mocking, but Aidan responded anyway, his entire face going red.
"Yes. A favour," he snarled and jerked his head at me. "This little creep has been hanging all over you all year. Look man..." he lowered his voice to a whisper, "I know. About you. And I don't care, seriously. You've been my best friend since fucking kindergarten, and it doesn't change... but other people care. And he..." he gestured to me implicitly, violently, "... isn't good at keeping secrets. How else do you think I found out?"
Caleb's mouth twitched, and he glanced at me for a split second. His certainty wavered, I saw it.
"Just. Say. Yes," Aidan hissed. He didn't seem to care everyone in the office could hear. He needed the validation of having Caleb throw me under the bus. Which, to be fair, had been my plan from the beginning of this. It just felt more malicious coming from Aidan, and it took away my power in taking the hit for my mistake.
"You sure proved me wrong," I turned in my seat to Aidan. My jaw trembled. "Though I guess, in your mind, destroying my life instead of his is quite heroic. Since he'll obviously forgive everything when he realises you were just protecting him this whole time. Or are you just hoping you can get Trout to override your suspension when he sees how noble you are, keeping me away from his boys?"
Aidan scoffed and turned his head away. Mr. Troutman narrowed his eyes at me, "What did you call..."
"That's it, isn't it?" I continued. "You don't give a shit anything except getting back on the team. Everything apart from that is just information you can use to get there. Except you need him to back up your story, which I guess you think he'll do because... friendship?"
"I could have told everyone!" he yelled. "I choose not to. I don't want to ruin my friend's fucking life. It was him or me, and then I realised it was him, or me, or you. I choose the obvious."
"But you did tell everyone!" I responded angrily. "Your entire plan falls off at the fucking hinges because YOU TOLD EVERYBODY!"
"Alright, let's..." Ms. Hudson started, but her attempt to pull the conversation back on the rails was intercepted.
"How exactly did you plan to ruin my life?" Caleb spoke up, leaning further forward.
"I didn't tell anyone!" Aidan's attention was focused solely on me. "I've been in the Coach's office all morning. For all I know, you did tell everyone!"
"Why would I..."
"I'm lost," Mr. Greene confessed.
"Jesus, are you talking about the team meeting?" Caleb groaned. "Of all the... I called it."
Aidan and I both swivelled in our seats to stare. Ms. Hudson's hands stilled with the mug of tea at her lips, eyes flicking to Caleb and narrowing in confusion.
"Why on earth would you tell the team that you're gay?" Mr. Troutman demanded.
Caleb gave him the most brow-beaten, are-you-fucking-with-me look I'd ever seen. "Because I am gay. Was I not clear on that?"
Ms. Hudson spat out her tea, rather restrainedly, back into the cup. I didn't know whether it was in response to what Caleb had said, or because she'd forgotten it was cold. Mr. Troutman was doing his best impression of a deer caught in headlights.
"No. you're not," he stammered.
Caleb rolled his eyes lazily. "I think I'd know that better than you, Coach."
Mr. Troutman's lips flapped uselessly up and down like his namesake, and he was rendered mercifully beyond words.
"Yesterday, during the fire drill, Aidan came storming over and said he knew I was gay and if I didn't give him his position back on the team, he was going to tell everyone," Caleb clarified, his attention back on Ms. Hudson. "That I had until tomorrow to make it happen. I told him to go ahead, that I didn't care anymore, and then he elaborated that I wasn't the only one he knew... Miles?"
I knew what he was asking. Everyone in the room already knew, thanks to Mr. Troutman's earlier outburst. "I don't mind."
He nodded, and make a humourless hum in the back of his throat. "He said he'd out Miles as well."
Alba let out an audible noise of disapproval. Aidan was sinking slowly into his chair as if he could will it to swallow him. Ms. Hudson was fixated on Caleb, her expression unreadable.
"I thought about it. I thought about giving him what he wanted. And then I thought, fuck him, he doesn't get to make decisions like that for me, so I called a team meeting first thing, and I told them everything. That I'm gay, and that while I normally would consider it no one's business, my hand was being forced by Aidan. That's the extent of me turning them against you. I told them exactly what you were doing, and that pissed them off way more than having a gay guy on their team. Guess I should have more faith in people."
Caleb finished, and sat back, face serene. I couldn't take my eyes off him.
Ms. Hudson cleared her throat loudly. She took out a pen and pad. "Right. Thank you for your candour, Caleb. That must have been hard." I noticed she'd dropped the formalisation of his name. "Just to... and I'm sorry to have to clarify this... no harassment of..."
"None," Caleb said venomously. "Unless you're referring to Aidan, in which case, yes. I feel very harassed. This was never how I would have chosen to tell people. I'm just glad they heard it from me."
"I never would have," Aidan's voice was desperately quiet. It might have been the bright lights of the office, but his eyes appeared glassy. "I never would have told. It was just... I thought you'd listen. If... but I never would do that to you."
"Guess I don't know you that well then," Caleb said tightly. "You had no problem falling back on Plan B."
"Everyone knows Stewart's gay, man," Aidan huffed. "Look at him."
"I'll kill you," I thought I heard Aaron say, very quietly, from behind us. If anyone else heard, they didn't comment on it.
Ms. Hudson took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling for a solid few seconds before returning her attention to us. "Everyone may leave, save Mr. McCaffrey and Ms. Hassan. Miles, will you be alright to get to class?"
I nodded, fingers itching around the straps of my bag.
"Caleb?"
He was already on his way to the door. Ms. Hudson motioned to dismiss everyone, and when Mr. Troutman stated gruffly that he'd rather stick around, Ms. Hudson raised her voice for the first time.
"GET. OUT."
With a face like he'd been slapped, Mr. Troutman retreated with his tail between his legs. I couldn't help but notice he gave Caleb a wide berth as we spilled out of Ms. Hudson's office. Mr. Greene and Dr. Foxe made escapes to their offices, leaving only Caleb, Aaron, and myself standing in admin, beyond dumbfounded.
The receptionist shooed us away. "Show's over. Get to class."
We did, walking slowly out into the empty hallway. Aaron stayed close to my side, hovering protectively. Caleb walked just behind us, shoes squeaking. I felt emotionally, physically, and mentally drained.
"Do you two need a moment?" Aaron whispered to me.
I took a look over my shoulder and met Caleb's eye. He nodded, coming to a full stop and waiting by the lockers.
"Yeah, I think so," I wrapped him in a hug. "See you at lunch?"
"I will not be offended if I don't," he patted my back, then made a squelchy kissing noise right in my ear. I shoved him lightly back, and he laughed, waved, and continued down the hall.
And with that, I was alone with Caleb.