How had I not noticed his last name on the attendance sheet? How had I not made the connection? Santi even looked like his brother. Admittedly a much smaller, thinner version of his brother.

Marcos walked across the lobby towards us. He was wearing black gym shorts and a dark gray tank top that made it quite clear he spent time in the gym. I looked away, hoping I hadn’t been obviously staring at him the whole time he was approaching.

“Ready to go?” Marcos asked his brother.

Santi nodded and picked up his gym bag.

I hoped to escape unnoticed by the older Grayden, but that wasn’t in the cards. It was a long shot anyway, and Santi put an end to my hopes on that front.

“This is my teacher. I got a private lesson today,” Santi said.

Marcos looked at me sharply. “We didn’t pay for private lessons.”

I waved my hands in front of myself as if to ward off an accusation. “No. It’s not that. The other kids in his class were just gone tonight.”

Marcos’s expression relaxed, and he turned his attention back to his brother.

Santi grinned. “It was awesome. I’m learning how to do flip turns like they do in races. I don’t have the hang of them yet, but I was thinking if I get good, I could go out for the swim team in high school.”

Marcos smiled as he looked at his brother, ruffling his still-damp hair. The smile transformed him into a different person. He looked like a kinder, gentler version of himself. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. High school is a long way off yet.”

Santi shrugged. “I know, but that leaves me plenty of time to get really good.”

I almost spoke up to say that the community center had its own swim team that Santi could join at any time, but then I remembered that I didn’t want to interact any more with Marcos than was strictly necessary. I didn’t want to be noticed. I wanted to be forgettable.

“See you next week, Tristan,” Santi said.

Great. Now Marcos knew my name.

***

When I walked in the door, my mom said, “You look a little pale, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. A little hungry, though. I should remember to eat a bigger dinner on swim nights or bring a snack with me.”

“Do you want me to fix you something?”she asked.

I waved her off. “I think I can manage to find something on my own, thanks.”

As I drifted off to sleep that night, I contemplated what horrible things I must have done in a past life to be stuck teaching swimming lessons to Marcos Grayden’s little brother.

Santi was fine. Santi was great, even, but he was a package deal with Marcos, and I didn’t feel great about that.

I couldn’t manage to shake the uneasy feeling I had about Marcos the next morning either. Luckily there was no reason to expect I’d run into him during the school day since I never had before.

Third period, I took my seat beside Jack. His red hair and copious freckles had once made him the target of bullies, but mostly nobody cared about that in high school. He was very sympathetic about my situation, though.

Our English teacher was out. I wasn’t surprised. The flu that had been going around the school usually knocked people out for more than a few days. This time, one of the math teachers was subbing. He wrote the assignment on the board. It took all of ten minutes to get it done, and then we were left to our own devices.

“Want a chance to prove your worth?” Jack took out his travel chessboard.

I shrugged and started setting up my pieces.

“You’ll never believe who I ran into at the community center last night,” I said.

Jack made his opening move. “Holly Gilespe, homecoming queen?”

I snorted. “I wish.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “You wish you ran into Holly Gilespe? Last I heard she wasn’t one of your favorite people.”

I captured one of Jack’s pawns. “She’s not, but she would have been preferable to the person who actually showed up.” Holly was fine. She wasn’t too bad anyway, and she didn’t single me out for any special treatment.

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Jack said, his hand poised above his bishop, contemplating his next move.

I bit my lip. “Marcos Grayden’s younger brother.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at me. “How did you know? Oh. Marcos was there too, I take it.”

“Yeah. His brother is in my swimming class. I ran into them in the lobby. Aside from the fact that I missed the last name on the sign up sheet, I should have caught the resemblance. Santi is a skinny, twelve-year-old clone of his brother.”

“Same terrifyingly blank expression on his face?” Jack asked.

I shook my head. “No, Santi is a ray of sunshine.”

Jack frowned. “I’m having a hard time picturing a clone with anything other than a menacing scowl.”

“Oh, and then Marcos smiled,” I said.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “What was that like?”

“Kind of creepy in its normalcy.”

Before too long, the bell rang. We needed to pack up the chess board before there was a clear winner. “I’m pretty sure that was my game,” Jack said.

I shook my head. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“See you later.” Jack left for chemistry, and I headed for lunch.

Our school was big enough, and our cafeteria was small enough, that there were two separate lunch periods. Unfortunately Jack and I did not eat together, and I hadn’t managed to make a lot of other friends. Or any other friends.

Ideally I’d find a place to sit where I could ignore everyone around me and eat in relative peace. I looked for mostly full tables with a single empty seat. If there was too much space around me, Dylan or one of his buddies would find me and make lunchtime an unpleasant experience.

I wasn’t sure what they got out of picking on me. I wasn’t sure what made me such a tempting target. If I’d known, maybe I could have changed something, but I had a feeling that I couldn’t change the things that made me so appealing to them. I would always be small, and I would always be gay.

The school had an official policy against bullying, of course, but that would require me to actually say something or for a staff member to open their eyes and see what was going on right under their noses. I didn’t want to make things worse, though, which is what I was convinced would happen if I spoke out.

I went through the serving line and accepted my allotted portion of salad greens, chicken alfredo, and steamed broccoli. Like many of the lunchtime offerings, it sounded much better than it tasted. The noodles were always soggy, and the steamed vegetables were hit or miss. The salad was typically fine. I picked up a packet of ranch dressing along with my silverware and a napkin.

Once I’d entered my student number in the register, I looked around for a likely spot to sit. Dylan wasn’t anywhere to be seen, which was both a blessing and a curse. I liked not having him around, but I also appreciated having tabs on his exact whereabouts.

There was a long table with two spots left near the end. I walked over and asked one of the girls there if the seats were taken. She shook her head before turning away to talk to her friends.

Perfect.

I was disappointed but not surprised to discover that the broccoli was overdone, dripping in water that hadn’t been adequately drained. At least the alfredo sauce was warm.

Once I’d finished eating, I stood to get rid of my tray. That’s when Dominic managed to sneak up on me, bumping me just hard enough that my tray dropped to the floor.

“My bad,” he said with a smirk before stepping away.

I picked up my tray and dusted myself off. There was a bit of pasta sauce on my pants. I dabbed at it with a napkin before heading for the restroom to deal with the problem more effectively. It was hard to get through the crowds of people in the bathroom.

One of them, a guy that I didn’t recognize, pulled out a vape that looked roughly like a sharpie. “I heard that Grayden is still on probation for that fight at his last school,” he said.

“He can’t be. Still? Wasn’t it like two years ago?”

“Three, but it was bad.”

A third person joined the conversation. “I heard he broke some kid’s nose.”

The guy with the vape nodded. “He also bruised some ribs. It was five to one, and Grayden came out on the winning side.”

That provoked a low whistle from someone. I didn’t see who.

As I wiped at the stain on my pants with a wet paper towel, I contemplated what it would be like to go through an entire school day without having to worry about what unpleasant things might happen.

I wondered what it would be like to have people afraid of me instead of the other way around.

I wondered what it would be like to be Marcos Grayden.

I’d done the best I could with the pants. They would dry fast enough. If this was the worst that happened, I’d count it as my lucky day.