After Liam punched Raphael, the jerk didn't mess with me again. But I suppose the incident got my mom and Liam's parents rethinking about what would be best for us.

"What do you think of going to a public not Catholic school instead of a Catholic one?" my mom asked at the end of grade 5. My immediate impulse was to reject the idea since I did not want to be separated from my best friend. But as my mom continued, I calmed down. "I was talking to Liam's parents, and we think it might be better. You two can have a different environment. Maybe make more friends. Some exciting changes are coming to the Santos' lives too. Being in a public school will take off some burden."

I didn't understand what my mom was talking about but didn't mind changing schools as long as I could stay with Liam. It was right before grade 6 that I learned the "exciting change" was Liam's mom being pregnant. Liam spent more time at my house while his parents prepared for his baby sister. My mom came to check on the two of us often. Clueless little me didn't know why she was suddenly making a rule to keep my door open when Liam was there.

I didn't want Liam to have to keep defending me from bullies who teased me about my "girly" speech and gestures. It wasn't fair to him if I was his only friend. So when we changed schools for grade 6, I decided to act and talk more masculine. Liam had to have noticed, but he never said anything. He was probably also glad to be able to make more friends. We were a close group of four: Liam Santos, Alex Camejo, Jeremy Turner, and Kareem Shawar.

Kareem was a Black kid who, like me, got special praise for his intelligence. It was nice to have a friend who could relate to my melanin-related experiences. He was also a follower, simply because he hated standing out and loathed conflict. When everyone started wearing yellow Livestrong bracelets, he bought two. And if Jeremy wanted to debate about who the prettiest Disney girl was, Kareem would shrug and let Jeremy win.

Jeremy was a white kid who made truthfully funny jokes and had a lot of "adult" knowledge for some reason. He was the leader and the piece keeping us from being a group of dorks. Neither he nor Kareem were Harry Potter or fantasy fans, but I didn't mind those interests only being between Liam and me. Liam was probably also glad to be able to make more friends. I was certain that had not "man" and "dude" become a regular part of my vocabulary, we wouldn't be the close group of four that we were for the next three years.

The same way puberty doesn't happen overnight, realizing you're gay doesn't either. Things happen gradually, no matter how much in denial you are. But there's definitely an epiphany moment that makes you go, "Okay, this is real. This is who I am for the rest of my life." For me, that moment ironically happened shortly after I turned 13.

No, it wasn't seeing all my male peers changing for P.E. in the locker rooms. Please, those boys were nothing impressive. No, it wasn't realizing that I did, in fact, want Liam to touch my tamale. And, no, it was not having a homoerotic wet dream. That wouldn't happen for another year.

It was noticing that I had spent 30 minutes Googling pictures of Ryan Gosling shirtless and three DracoxHarry fanfics deep that I realized, "Okay, yep. I am very gay."

Overwhelming guilt and confusion floated around my head. Was I a sinner? Was I broken? Whose fault was it that I was gay? Was it anyone's fault? Wasn't it okay for me to be the way God made me?

I cried for about three days. My Catholic Venezuelan family would bug me even more if they knew, the older generation definitely gossiping about how "Alejandro" was gay and we've known it all along and we must save him from the fiery pits of Hell. I looked online and saw horror stories of kids being sent to counselors and conversion camps and entire churches praying over them. It was terrifying. However, I also saw a lot of hope. People (including Christians) saying I wasn't doomed to Hell and that it gets better. After a week, my spirits were back up. But was I going to come out? God no. I kept up the bro act in front of my peers and everything was good.

But then fucking Raphael.

Fuckboy Raphael.

We had all entered the locker room at the beginning of gym when some douchebag walked up beside my locker. "Hey, can you go change in the bathroom?"

"What?"

He frowned. "I don't feel comfortable changing with you here. None of us do."

Kareem turned to him, brown chest bare. "What are you talking about, man?"

"We heard Alex is gay."

My eyes went big.

"Bullshit," Kareem said. "Does he look gay to you?"

Another boy stepped up behind us and lifted his chin. "He's a fake. We heard he was a huge fag in elementary school."

"From Raphael?" I blurted. They all looked at me. "Raphael's a fucking liar. My best friend, Liam Santos, punched him once, so he probably just wants revenge," I explained nonchalantly, turning back to entering the combination of my locker. What could I say that would drive it home without sounding forced? "Besides, probably everyone knows I like Wilhelmina," I lied.

An unsettling silence spread across the locker room.

"Wilhemina?" a voice behind me said. "Double-D STD Wilhelmina?" I turned back to see the first boy raising his eyebrows.

"They're Cs at most," Kareem said. Everyone turned to him and he shrugged. "I have older sisters, okay?"

"STD?" I asked, eyes wide in horror. I had picked the wrong girl. All I knew was that every other boy considered her hot and... that she seemed like a nice person in science class?

"You didn't know? There's a rumor she got STDs from a guy in grade 10 last summer."

Speechless, I turned around to my locker. "Uh, okay, nevermind Wilhemina then." The poor girl might've been the victim of some exaggerated rumors, but I had to keep up my act. I forced a small laugh. "She's still hot, though."

I. Was. Absolute. Garbage. A few boys cheered in agreement and I held back a sigh of relief and the rising vomit.

"Sorry about that, dude," the second guy apologized.

"Yeah, should've known," the other grumbled. "Raphael is a douche."

"No worries," I muttered to the metal of my still-closed locker door.

After everyone had changed and started to leave the locker room, I grabbed Kareem's arm. "Don't tell Liam, okay?"

Kareem nodded and ducked his head. "Why though?"

"You know how protective he is." I rolled my eyes, then, feeling insecure, puffed out my chest. "And we already had that shit with Raphael in Catholic school."

"Oh yeah." Kareem realized what I was saying. "Yeah, I won't tell him."

*

Liam and I walked home together from the bus stop that afternoon. He'd been quiet on the bus, doing homework.

"Alex."

"Huh?"

"Raphael likes Bethany Brittany."

"Bethany Brittany? The one everyone calls The Girl With Two First Names?"

Liam sighed. "Yeah. Raphael goes to her church. Apparently, she likes you."

"Me?!"

"He got jealous, so spread the rumor around." Liam was glaring at the sidewalk.

"Seriously? That's why? For real? What a petty douchebag."

Liam lifted his head and looked at me worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" I told him. "I've been dealing with this crap since I was a kid. You know that. You also know I'm not gay, right?"

Liam blinked. "Yeah... I know." He rolled his eyes and continued, "Like, I've never gotten the feeling that you like guys. It's just because of the way you used to talk, but... since your voice got deeper it's not as... Anyway, that's just a stereotype, anyway. It's dumb to judge people on that stuff." He glanced at me with eyes that were gauging my response.

"Yeah!" I said, rolling my eyes as well. "Like, I don't have a problem with gay people and I think it's good for them gay marriage was legalized. Even though I'm straight." With the last word, my voice became small. Somehow calling myself "straight" felt like a betrayal much larger than saying I was "not gay." I slapped Liam on the upper arm as we came to the corner where we usually split up at our respective streets. "Hey, man, I'll see ya."

"See ya," Liam said, and to me, he looked convinced. I figured I'd done a good job that day. I was still safely in the closet.