Maybe it was the shiny red F, or Eliot refusing to play Batman and Robin in our underwear, or a brain fever: something made me do it. Before that first math quiz F, my parents had assured me I was perfect...

John Fisher gave me the dead bat in a mason jar for Valentines. I had accepted it, trying to be cool, fully aware that my hands were trembling against the jar glass. I knew that boys were into these things so I tried to be cool. I puffed up my chest and crossed my arms, remembering that this is how my dad stood [...]