Russell pulled away. Sal flinched. How could they have forgotten to check for people beforehand?

"I was only joking." Brad gawked at Sal and Russell, still wrapped in each other's arms. "You two really are doing each other!" He laughed. Two boys at his side laughed along with him.

Sal's face, never failing to turn red, turned red. This made them laugh harder.

"Ignore them," Russell whispered to Sal.

"That never works," Sal whispered back.

One of Brad's friends pointed at Sal. "I thought he was asexual."

"He must've made that up," Brad said. "All to hide his secret fling with Russell."

Russell and Sal ignored them and got to their feet to leave. As the two walked away, Brad's other friend snuck up from behind and shoved Sal into Russell, nearly knocking both of them over.

Sal caught his balance. "What is this? Middle school?"

"Real funny guys," Russell said. "Come on, Sal."

"Yeah, go on faggots." Brad sneered at them.

Faggot. A ball of fire swarmed through the dark depths of Sal's heart. Metaphorical flames consumed his entire being, filling every inch of him with rage. He clenched his fists in preparation to release his ever-growing wrath. Teeth bared, he whipped around. "What did you call me?"

"A faggot, faggot."

"CALL ME THAT AGAIN!" Sal shouted, arm muscles straining. He raised his fists up, preparing to strike.

"What? You're gonna beat me up? You think your skinny, faggot ass can-"

Brad didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. Sal let out a roar and tackled him, knocking him down to the ground.

"Stop!" Russell shouted. "You'll get in trouble!"

Sal ignored him and punched every inch of Brad. Brad struggled under him, but Sal kept firm grip on his shirt. Brad's friends stared open-mouthed, but did nothing.

"DON'T! YOU! EVER! CALL! ME! THAT!" Sal shouted between punches. "I swear I'll kill-"

"WHAT ON EARTH!" A school administrator came running to the scene, and tugged at the back of Sal's shirt, pulling him off. "Stop it!"

Sal stood up. Brad's nose and mouth were covered in blood. Sal's fists were covered in blood. He looked at the school administrator, taking in her straight blonde hair and glasses. I'm dead.

"Come with me." Ms. Humbolt clutched his arm, yanking him towards herself. "Take Brad to the nurse," she barked at the two friends as she dragged Sal to the Principal's office, Russell following at a safe distance.

"What were you thinking, beating up that poor, innocent boy?" Ms. Humbolt asked along the way. "You should be ashamed."

"He called me a faggot."

"That's no excuse." Ms. Humbolt rapped the door to the Principal's office. The plaque above her knuckles read "Principal Abby R. Jones."

A dark-skinned, middle-aged woman answered the door, wearing glasses similar to Ms. Humbolt's. "What is it this time?"

"I caught this child violently attacking another student," Ms. Humbolt said, her lips flattening. "He needs to be punished."

"Really?" Principal Jones sounded bored. She looked over at Sal. "Sal, right?" Sal nodded.

"Personally, I think he should be expelled."

"He's not getting expelled. Come in, tell me what happened." Principal Jones noticed Russell standing several feet away. "You too, Russell." Russell followed Sal and Ms. Humbolt inside the office, and the three of them each took a seat in front of the principal's desk.

Principal Jones sat behind her desk, focusing her attention on Sal. "What happened?"

Sal stared down at his shoes.

"Well?"

He didn't look up. "Brad called me a faggot, so I punched him."

Principal Jones eyed the dried blood on his knuckles. "It looks like you punched him pretty hard."

"He did more than punch him," Ms. Humbolt said. "He assaulted him. I had to send the poor boy to the nurse."

Russell looked at Sal, then at Principal Jones. "What's going to happen to-"

"You stay out of this!" Ms. Humbolt snarled.

Principal Jones held up her hand. "I want to hear Brad's side of the story. Then we can decide on punishments."

As if on cue, Brad walked into the office holding a cold compress to his nose, his lip slightly bleeding. There weren't any more available chairs, so Ms. Humbolt offered hers.

"Brad, what happened?" Principal Jones asked.

"Me and my friends were standing around, when... when..." Brad's voice cracked. "When Sal went crazy and tried to kill me." He looked up at the principal with tear-filled eyes, letting out a loud sniffle. Ms. Humbolt patted his shoulder as if to comfort him.

Sal had to keep himself from rolling his eyes at the overly-dramatic show Brad was putting on. "I wish I did," he said under his breath. Russell nudged his arm with his elbow.

"Sal says you called him a faggot." Principal Jones peered at Brad through her glasses. "Is that true?"

Brad avoided her eye. "I might have. But he attacked me."

"You provoked me," Sal said. Russell elbowed him to be silent again.

Brad nodded towards Sal and Russell. "They were making out."

"That's no excuse to use slurs," Principal Jones said. "In fact, I'm disgusted by it."

Sal opened his mouth to give a victory "yeah!" but Russell gave him another "be quiet" nudge.

Principal Jones seemed to have noticed. "But that's not a good enough excuse to beat him bloody. That'll be a three day suspension. School policy."

Sal's face fell.

"Brad, you'll have detention after school for all of next week. I'll be calling both your parents. Now leave, so I can finally go home."

Brad shot daggers at Sal before stalking off with his friends, who had been waiting outside the office for him.

"I can't believe you did that," Russell said, once out of earshot.

Sal walked alongside Russell, staring straight ahead with a flat expression, a sense of dread overcoming him. "He deserved it."

Russell looked over at him. "I've seen you upset, but damn. What happened?"

"He called me a faggot." Sal swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. "Nothing pisses me off more than being called a faggot. I thought you already knew that."

"I did." Russell took Sal's hand in his. "I didn't think you'd get that pissed off. I'm surprised he's still standing."

Sal took his time walking home from school. Russell had offered him a ride, but he turned it down. Although he probably shouldn't have, given he might not see Russell ever again. What would happen once Brenda and Tyler found out about this? And he'd been so careful with his behavior too.

"I got a call from your school's principal," Brenda said the second he walked through the front door. "She said you're suspended. You got in a fight?"

"I'm sorry." Sal hung his head in shame. "It won't happen again. I swear."

Brenda studied Sal with an unreadable expression. "We'll discuss it later. Go to your room."

They're gonna kick me out, Sal thought, closing his bedroom door. And then I'll get thrown in another group home, probably sharing a room with someone irritating and all my socks will go missing and... He pulled at his hair. I had it so good here and now I've messed up and they're gonna get rid of me.

For a moment, Sal considered calling his social worker and dumping all his worries on her. But no, Michelle would be annoyed with him. She was when he got kicked out of the last family he had stayed with. And all he did was hoard food. Though it wasn't his fault they didn't feed him enough.

Sal collapsed on his bed, facing the ceiling. He would definitely end up in a group home. Michelle had told him that, when she took him to Brenda and Tyler. If he screwed this up, he'd go to a group home until he turned 18. There was no point in trying to place him with another family when he was so close to coming of age.

Sal chewed at his thumbnail, wondering what his mother would have said about his fight. She probably would have grounded me. He buried his face in his pillow, pondering all these thoughts, until someone knocked on his door. "Dinner's ready, if you want any," Brenda said through the door.

"What's this I hear about you getting in a fight?" Tyler asked.

Sal didn't know what to say, so he concentrated on keeping his fork steady as he took a bite of lasagna.

"Did you win?" Tyler asked.

Sal remembered Brad's bloody face and forced back a smile. "Yeah."

"'Atta boy!" Tyler ruffled Sal's hair. Brenda shot him a look, which he ignored. "What was it about?"

Sal chewed his food slowly, stalling for time. He swallowed. "Brad said something that upset me. So I punched him."

Tyler seemed like he was about to ask for more details, but Brenda jumped in. "Yes, and you're grounded for a week."

Sal's fork clattered on his plate. "What?"

"You heard me. You're grounded for one week. No phone. No computer. No video games."

"But-"

Brenda gave Sal a stern look. "No buts."

"You're not kicking me out?" Sal asked with an air of excitement.

Brenda's expression softened. "Why would we kick you out?"

"Because..." He shrugged, looking down at his plate. "I dunno." He was still recovering from surprise. His last foster parents had threatened to kick him out for skipping class. Beating someone bloody seemed to be a worse offense.

Brenda reached over and squeezed his hand. "We wouldn't kick you out. You're family."

Sal flushed at her words, and was grateful when Tyler turned the conversation onto himself.

"I've been in a couple fights myself," Tyler said. "Did I ever tell you the french fry story?"

Sal didn't go back to school until Thursday. One weekend and three school days without Russell had pained him, and he couldn't wait to see him again. At the same time, he dreaded seeing Brad. Who knew what he'd say. Hawks crashed in his stomach as he walked into English class, relief flooding him when he saw Brad's vacant seat. He beamed at Russell, who smiled back as he took his usual seat behind him.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," Sal whispered. "How have things been? What's happening with Brad?"

Russell rested his head on his hand. "It's been unbearable. He's been more obnoxious, now that he knows about us. And he knows I won't do anything about it. And you better be careful. Don't let his words get to you."

Sal leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "After what I did to him, he'd be a fool to mess with me."

"And you'd be a fool to get in another fight," Russell said. "'Also, he told everyone. About us."

A breath of air escaped Sal, and he dropped his hands on his desk, feeling faint. "No."

"Yeah. Nobody was surprised. But at least we no longer have to hide our relationship." He grasped Sal's hand, giving him a loving smile.

"Aw, you're so cute together," Heather said as she walked by.

Sal blushed, looking down at his desk. Something shoved him, and he turned around. The bruised face made him hard to recognize, but the dirty look Brad gave him was clear. Sal glared back at him, a guttural sound rumbling in his throat.

"You two should go to prom together," Terry suggested during lunchtime. "It'll be cute."

"I am not spending that kind of money just to take Bozo here to an over-hyped, over-priced, crappy dance nobody will remember in a month," Russell said.

"Neither am I." Sal punched a straw into his Capri Sun pouch.

"We'll draw too much attention to ourselves, being the only gay couple and all," Russell added.

"And we're technically not even gay," Sal said.

"But they'd vote us Prom King and King anyway, for being so brave."

"And our pictures would be all over the yearbook."

"And I'd have to explain it to my parents when they go through it."

"Fuck proms." Sal took a dramatic sip of his Capri Sun.

Terry bit into a potato chip. "Fair enough."

"I'm having a party that night," Stewart said. "You're all invited."

"Why would you throw a party on a night where everyone will be at prom?" Sal asked.

"I'm not, my older brother is." Stewart opened a packet of gravy and poured it over his mashed potatoes, which would most likely remain uneaten. "But he invited me and said I could bring friends."

"I'm down," Terry said. "Will there be alcohol?"

"Well, gee Terry, it's a college party."

Alcohol? Sal had second thoughts, and he glanced over at Russell. His parents would never allow him to attend a college party.

"My parents would never allow me to attend a college party," Russell said. "But they don't have to know."

Sal squeezed his Capri Sun pouch with enough pressure for the juice to spill up through the straw and over his hand. "Seriously?"

"What? I'm tired of following their rules all the time. This will be fun."

Sal sucked the juice off his hand, then wiped it on his pants. "Yeah. Real fun."

"I'll just tell them I'm spending the night at your house."

Sal did not like the idea of going to a party that served alcohol. Alcohol always brought back unpleasant memories. But he also did not like the idea of Russell going to a party without him. Hopefully everybody will forget about this. Or it'll get canceled.