"Do you speak often in front of groups?" said a woman with a minister's colar, also on the board.

"We're expecting a pretty big crowd." Ms. Yamamoto smiled calmly.

"Some city council members wil be there," commented a bald English teacher.

Kyle reached beneath the table to reassure Jason-and himself-by holding his hand. Both their palms dripped with sweat.

After everyone said their good-byes, Manny asked the boys, "You guys want to go out?"

"We realy need to work on Jason's speech," Kyle replied. "Why don't you and Nelson go out?" Manny's face became a total grin. "You want to?" he asked Nelson and Nelson beamed. "Sure!" After Kyle and Jason got back to the hotel room, Jason kind of freaked out.

"The frickin' city council's going to be there tomorrow!" He kicked his shoes off, tossing them across the room.

"Not the entire council," Kyle said, trying to calm Jason. But in truth Kyle was equaly stressed. "Let's concentrate on what Ms. Yamamoto said," he suggested, sitting down at the writing desk.

"Speak from your heart?" Jason roled his eyes and threw himself onto the bed. "What the heck does that mean?"

"She told you to share your experience." Kyle puled out the hotel writing paper from the desk drawer. "Can you hand me that pen?" Jason tossed him the balpoint from the nightstand. "What experience?"

"Wel, tel them what it was like for you growing up knowing you were gay, that sort of stuff."

"Dude!" Jason glared at him, grabbed the remote control, and turned the TV on. "Are you forgetting I was in the closet til last year? These kids are out! They probably al have pink, or green, or purple hair. They're the ones I used to watch get beat up and I was too chicken to say anything." Jason angrily flicked from one TV channel to another. "You want me to tel them that?"

"Jason, would you turn that off, please? I'm trying to help you."

Jason clicked the tube off, grumbling. "I never should've said I'd do this."

"Why don't you tel them," Kyle pressed, "why you finaly decided to come out?"

"Yeah, right." Jason crossed his arms. "You mean tel them I used to think about guys when I was doing my girlfriend? The city council would love that."

"No," Kyle said, growing more and more annoyed. "I mean tel them why you decided to come out to your coach and team, so you could be a role model. Tel them about the letters you've gotten from al over the country."

Jason shook his head. "Kyle, I came out because I was sick of hiding. That's the reason. Just because everyone says I'm a role model doesn't make me one.

You're putting me on a pedestal again."

Kyle tapped the pen against the desk, pondering: Was Jason right? Or was he just being beligerent?

"I never should've agreed to this," Jason repeated.

"Wel, it's too late now!" Kyle snapped, losing his patience. "Do you want me help you with this or don't you?"

"I feel like a fraud," Jason grumbled.

"But you're not!"

"Oh, that's right, I forgot." Jason smirked. "You think I'm a god."

"Fine!" Kyle threw down the pen. "You don't want my help. You just want to feel sorry for yourself!" Jason bit into his lip, giving him a hard-jawed look. Then he got up off the bed and started to change his clothes.

Kyle watched him. "Where are you going?"

"To find a court." Jason shoved his sneakers on. "I didn't practice this morning."

"Jason, it's almost midnight! Can't you miss one single day of your stupid practice?" Jason shot him an angry look and grabbed his basketbal from atop the dresser.

Kyle crossed his arms, wishing he hadn't said "stupid." He knew Jason's practice was important. But Jason's being so contrary pissed him off. Plus, there was another reason for his frustration: "I thought we were going to bed together before Nelson got back." He'd even made sure to hang the DO NOT DISTURB sign outside the door.

Jason hesitated, his eyes shifting from Kyle to the bed. "I'm too mixed-up inside." He turned to leave.

Kyle realized it was pointless to try and stop him. As the door closed, he grabbed Jason's strewn clothes off the bed and hurled them onto the floor. He wasn't sure what ticked him off more-that Jason had copped out on his speech, that he'd rejected Kyle's help with it, or that he'd bailed on their chance to make love.

Kyle flicked the TV on again and surfed through the channels, trying to take his mind off Jason. Yet he kept listening for the doorknob, wishing Jason would hurry back.

About an hour later Kyle felt himself drifting off to sleep. He got up, stripped to his briefs, turned the TV off, and debated whether to set the alarm for the next morning in case Jason forgot. Wasn't it Jason's responsibility to show up for his speech? But Kyle set the alarm anyway.

Angry but also tired, he quickly fel asleep. Sometime during the night, he felt Jason's arm slide around him. And in spite of his anger, Kyle let it stay there.

chapter 35.

For Jason, shooting hoops wasn't just exercise or a pastime. Basketbal was how he dealt with stuff: pressure at home, stress at school, and especialy his anger- at his dad, with friends, with himself. And tonight he felt majorly disappointed with himself. He had to shoot hoops more than ever.

At the hotel's front desk he asked, "Where's the nearest basketbal court?"

The clerk gave him a weird look, but fortunately one of the belhops overheard and pointed him to a school six blocks away.

As Jason headed toward the court, he felt bad for walking out on Kyle. But on the trip he'd realized how he needed time to get away and be by himself-to build up a sweat and burn off stress-especialy at times like now, when he felt like he was exploding inside.

He knew he shouldn't have put off writing his speech. But he'd been so nervous about it. And with each day that passed, he'd grown more nervous.

He didn't want to let those kids down tomorrow. He didn't want to let himself down. But what could he possibly tel them?

He knew Kyle had been trying to help. If Jason had any sense he would've accepted Kyle's help. Heck, why not just let Kyle write the whole speech? He'd probably write a better one than Jason ever could. But Jason had wanted to write this speech himself, without Kyle's help.

Now here he was, shooting baskets at midnight, with barely enough light from streetlamps to make out the curve of the rim against the white backboard. In a few hours he was supposed to address some huge audience, and he had no idea what to say.

He'd needed to find out: Was he realy the wonderful role model Kyle thought he was? He now had his answer: He'd screwed up. Big-time.

When Jason got back to the hotel, he quietly stepped into their darkened room. He found Kyle asleep-and Nelson wasn't back yet. Jason's pulse quickened. He wanted so badly to feel Kyle's arms around him. Would Kyle stil want to make love?

Quickly, Jason took a hot shower. Then he slid beneath the bedsheets, slipping his arm around Kyle's bare waist. To his relief, Kyle didn't rebuff him.

But just then the doorknob clicked, folowed by Nelson's giggles and whispers.

"Thanks again. See you tomorrow."

The door closed softly, and Nelson's footsteps padded across the carpet to the other bed.

Jason let out a deep sigh, holding Kyle in his arms, and wondered: How, with so much pent-up emotion, would he ever get to sleep?

Next morning Jason woke to the radio alarm blaring reports of freeway delays. As he shut it off, he heard the shower being turned off and saw that Kyle's side of the bed was empty. In the other bed a lump beneath the covers indicated Nelson was stil sleeping.

Jason walked to the window and puled the curtains open. He jumped back, startled. Where yesterday was haze and smog, today the city stretched clearly in front of him as far as he could see. In the distance shimmered the blue Pacific.

"Oh my gosh!" Kyle exclaimed, emerging from the bathroom with a towel round his waist. "You can see forever." Jason watched his expression, trying to discern if he was stil angry. "I'm sorry about last night," Jason said. "Thanks for setting the alarm."

"No problem." Kyle kissed his neck, smeling clean and soapy. "You want me to order room service?"

"I'm not hungry. I think I'm too nervous."

"How about at least some juice and yogurt?"

"Okay."

"You ordering food?" a voice croaked from beneath Nelson's covers.

Kyle ordered breakfast and somehow al three of them managed to eat, shower, and get half-ready by the time Manny showed up.

Jason had brought his blazer, a dress shirt, and tie for the event. Kyle used the hotel room iron for Jason's shirt, and Nelson showed him how to tie something caled a half-Windsor, which looked more stylish than the knot Jason had learned to tie. Manny found a shoeshine cloth in the bathroom toiletry basket and polished Jason's dress shoes.

Al the attention should've made Jason feel great. But instead he felt like a loser for how he was about to disappoint them.

Nelson drove toward the school, with Manny beside him giving directions. Jason sat in back with Kyle, biting his nails til Kyle gently puled his hand away from his mouth.

A block from the school they began to see parents with their teens walking toward the entrance. A TV news van stood parked outside the door.

"There's going to be TV here?" Jason asked. No one had mentioned that.

"There wasn't supposed to be," Manny replied.

Then Jason saw the reason for the news van: a half-dozen protesters, holding up placards: GOD HATES FAGS. STOP BRAIN-WASHING OUR KIDS. REPENT OR BURN.

The signs normaly would have angered Jason, but in his current nervous state, they rattled him further. It didn't help any when Nelson leaned out the window, blowing kisses at the protesters, shouting, "God is love!"

While Nelson parked the car, Manny led Kyle and Jason inside. Ms. Yamamoto was waiting for them, her cheery, peaceful smile unnerving Jason even more.

Inside the auditorium they sat in the front row. The program started with a bunch of boring speeches about every child's right to a safe school setting in which to learn, free of harassment and name-caling, blah, blah, blah ...

According to the program Jason wasn't scheduled to speak til the end.

"We saved the best for last," Manny whispered from the seat beside him.

Jason squirmed in his chair, roasting inside his blazer. As he watched the woman blabbing at the podium, he tugged at his tie, wanting to bolt out of there.

Meanwhile, Kyle patted him on the back, as if trying to soothe him.

Nelson didn't join them til the fourth speech. "What took you so long?" Kyle whispered.

"I was proselytizing the picketers." Nelson grinned. "I think I made one convert." Jason couldn't tel if Nelson was serious. He never knew with him. But then Jason suddenly got an idea. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier?

"Nelson!" he whispered. "I want to talk to you a minute." He climbed over Manny and led Nelson to the hal outside the auditorium. "Look, I can't do this. You're the one they should've invited. You've got to do it."

Nelson's brow creased with confusion, but then a smile crept across his face. "Finaly!" He snapped his fingers. "Someone gets it! That's what I said from the start.

Of course I'm the one they should've invited."

Jason let out a huge sigh of relief. He felt like a loser for wimping out, but at least he wouldn't be a total failure on stage in front of everyone.

Except Nelson stopped snapping his fingers and looked Jason squarely in the eye. "But I'm not the one they invited. They invited you, Jason. And you've got to get up there." His blue eyes driled into Jason, and in spite of his goofy pink hair, he looked like the most determined man on earth.

"Maybe you'l make a huge fool of yourself, but if that's what it takes for you to accept that a lot of us look up to you-then that's what you've got to do, because I'm not getting you out of this."

The auditorium door swung open. Applause sounded from inside as Manny leaned out into the hal. "Jason, you're up next!" Nelson reached up to Jason's shoulder and spun him toward the auditorium door. Jason gave up resisting, as his heart slipped to his stomach. Manny led him backstage, where Jason stood stiffly, waiting for the current speaker to finish. He was beyond worry now, his mind blank with fear.

He didn't hear his introduction or the applause, only Ms. Yamamoto saying, "Jason Carrilo," and then he was behind the podium, staring at three hundred waiting faces.

"Um ..." He cleared his throat, and suddenly remembered to say, "Thank you."

At least that was a start.

"Um ..." he continued. "You would think after playing so many basketbal games in front of hundreds of people, I wouldn't be so nervous, but I think this is one of the scariest moments of my life."

Several people laughed, probably feeling sorry for him, and he laughed too, from nerves.

"I guess the difference is, when I'm on the court I've got a team, whereas here I'm al ..." He stopped himself as he gazed down toward the front row at Kyle, Nelson, and Manny. Kyle was smiling up at him with his big hazel puppy-dog eyes. And Jason realized that even if he made a total ass of himself, for reasons beyond his understanding Kyle would stil love him, not one bit less.

Meanwhile Nelson was giving him a serious look, as if commanding him to keep going.

And next to Nelson, Manny leaned forward anxiously, his face ful of expectation, his knuckles white as they gripped the seat.

"Actualy," Jason continued, "I guess I'm not alone here either. I was originaly supposed to be, but my boyfriend and"-he glanced at Nelson-"one of our friends decided to come with me. They have no idea how glad I am right now that they're here." The audience laughed at that, and Jason saw Manny's grip relax on his chair. Nelson gave Jason an approving nod. Kyle beamed at him even more admiringly.

And Jason breathed a little easier.

"Like probably al of you," he told the audience, "at some point when I was a kid, I started figuring out I was gay. Although I had little girlfriends, I was also curious about boys. When I was ten, I decided that since I'd kissed girls, I wanted to find out what it would be like to kiss a boy." The audience laughed, though Jason hadn't meant to be funny.

"Unfortunately my dad came in on us. He gave me the biggest beating I'd ever had in my life." Jason's voice grew more serious and the audience became stil.