Suddenly, he was inside me, moving like melted glass. Mr. Hamlett called my name. I jerked and stared at him. Gid faded. Things settled. “Do you think the Constitution offers freedom from religion as well as freedom of religion?” he asked. I blinked. “You think people, all people, all over the world should have the freedom to choose their own destiny?” he asked. I swallowed. “Are you with us?” I shook my head. “Sorry,” I said. Mr. Hamlett frowned. Gid touched the knobs of my spine with invisible fingers full of nothing but grief and blood.
The First Shot Queertopia. Tayla, red-faced and clenched. Tad, pale and shaky. Miss Tris looked sick. “What?” I asked. “Fucking cowards,” Tayla snarled. I saw the crosses and the flyers and the pamphlets. I read through the front covers. “Jesus,” I said. “No shit,” Miss Tris said. We gathered all of the pamphlets and flyers into a pile and ceremoniously dumped them into the garbage. Tayla got on the table and started shouting. “You people think this is funny?” she screeched. Everyone turned to her. They stopped talking. They stopped eating. “You think we need your bible?” she demanded. “You think we need your God?” Mr. Skarey came through the room and stood at the head of the table. “Fucking pansies,” Tayla said. Mr. Skarey shook his head. He wasn’t a bad guy, but sometimes he had to do some pretty shitty things. “You can’t stand on the tables, Tayla,” he said. “Whatever.” “Off the table,” he said. “Keep the bigots the fuck away from us then,” Tayla said, jumping down. “Language,” Mr. Skarey said. He stood there while we all settled into our seats and started in on our lunch. When we’d all turned our attention away from him, he wandered off. “I’m going to kick Coy’s ass,” Tayla said.