Page 29 of I Can't Even Think Straight

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tolerate me, his best friend.

Matt and I come as a pair.

“You gonna come boxing with us

sometime, Kai?” Kwesi asks me.

I feel like Kwesi’s been watching me closely.

Like I’m a question he can’t answer.

Like I’m a word he can’t remember.

We’re in several classes together,

but this is the first time

he’s chosen to speak to me.

We’ve been paired together in Spanish

but that was Señorita Correa’s choice,

not ours.

“No, gracias,” I reply.

“Estoy bien.” I wave away

the invitation to boxing

with a flick of the wrist.

“I have no desire to be punched,” I say.

“I’d like to avoid head injuries

until after GCSEs and A levels.”

A pause.

I don’t care how these boys see me,

but I avoid eye contact with Matt:

I refuse to act straight for his benefit.

I’m determined to be myself,

whether The Boys like it or not,

whether Matt likes it or not.

I can only act straight

when I concentrate on it.

The rest of the time, I’m pretty camp,

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