The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School(10)



Damn, tough crowd.

“Careful not to stare. Bo always notices,” Karen whispers at me. I guess I was staring. “Her peripheral vision is better, because of the eyes.” She stretches the corners of her eyes with her fingers, then stifles a giggle. Jenna rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything.

“What?” My face gets hot. She can’t be serious.

“Karen!” Emily slaps Karen on her orange-tinted wrist. She makes wide eyes at me as if to say, Can you believe her?

“I’m just saying!” Karen giggles.

Mrs. Havens shoots us a glare, quickly ending the conversation. I rub my temples. It’s easier if I pretend I didn’t hear anything; I don’t have the energy. I want to say something, but I don’t want to make a scene and get painted as that person, I already stand out as it is. I can’t get in trouble on day one. I focus on Bo instead.

When she stands, I notice she’s the only girl I’ve seen so far who went for the khakis instead of the skirt, and she’s wearing rainbow Vans. I have to remind myself we’re at a Catholic school, so I shouldn’t read into it. Not everyone who likes khakis and rainbows is gay. Maybe she’s just desperate to wear any color that isn’t our uniform’s blue and beige.

Bo walks up to Mrs. Havens, chin up. She hands her a flash drive, then stands in front of the class, waiting for her presentation to show up on the projector.

The title slide states in huge letters: CHOICE VS. LIFE.

Bo flashes a smile and stands up straighter.

“Abortion is a human right. A right that, when legally stripped away, doesn’t actually prevent the procedure from taking place. It only prevents safe abortions from taking place.”

I must be staring with my mouth wide open, because Bo looks at me and grins, as if this is the exact reaction she was going for. She then goes on to argue why abortion should be legal everywhere. I almost laugh. I’m completely baffled that someone has the balls to do this at Catholic school. Her presentation is complete with statistics and sources from scientific journals. She even quotes the Constitution. Bo’s a badass. I like her. I make a mental note to try and make friends with her later.

There are a few girls nodding along in agreement every now and then, but for the most part, everyone looks monumentally uncomfortable. Especially Mrs. Havens. I don’t know why, but I absolutely love that.

Once Bo is done, Mrs. Havens looks fully unimpressed. “I expect better from you, Ms. Taylor.”

Damn, is she going to publicly shame everyone like this?

“Why? Because I’m Chinese?” Bo snaps back. “Sorry for not living up to your model minority BS.”

“And not everything is about race, Ms. Taylor. You may have a seat.”

Bo rolls her eyes and sits back down. Mrs. Havens asks for another volunteer, but since no one raises their hand, she chooses me to go next.

After seeing Bo’s presentation, I’m not as nervous. Mine might get me a side-eye from Mrs. Havens, but it’s not the most controversial topic today. Bo gave me an extra boost of confidence.

I get up and walk to the front of the room. Deep breath.

“Ms. Flores, unroll your skirt, please. That’s against the dress code.”

I look down and realize my shirt isn’t pulled out far enough to hide the rolls in my skirt. Dammit.

“I’m too short for these skirts. It’s way too long,” I say under my breath, but I know Mrs. Havens heard me, because she sighs. Some kid coughs while I’m unrolling my skirt.

“Bet money she’s the next one at the abortion clinic.” A few hushed snickers.

“Excuse me?” My eyes dart around to try and find a guilty face. The voice came roughly from where my new “friends” are sitting. They aren’t laughing, but Karen looks like she might be trying not to.

“Ms. Flores, please go ahead with your presentation,” Mrs. Havens says, probably trying to keep me from losing my shit. I ignore her. I’ve heard too many stereotypes about teenage Mexican girls to let it slide. My face is burning too hot to remember my bullshitted presentation anyway.

“Why do I look like the type of person who would get an abortion? Is it because I’m Mexican? Because I don’t want my skirt to reach the floor? Because I have to work to pay my tuition? Did you even listen to that girl?” I say, gesturing wildly at Bo. “People like me are less likely to get abortions. We can’t afford it!”

“That’s enough, Ms. Flores. Your presentation, please.” Mrs. Havens tries to stop me, and my brain is telling me to shut the fuck up and do the presentation I stayed up all night preparing, but I can’t stop.

“You know what, this is my presentation. You know who’s most likely to get an abortion at our age?” I stare right at Karen. I’m only like 40 percent sure it was her who said it, but she deserves a talking-to either way. “Rich white people. Rich white people with the privilege of having the choice of what to do with their bodies and the rest of their lives. And you know who’s most likely to lie about getting an abortion? People who grow up in a religion that gets off on shame and guilt, who can’t safely carry proof of their ‘sin’ on their bodies or risk being shunned by their families and excommunicated by their church.”

“Ms. Flores!” Mrs. Havens’s face shakes as she shouts my name. She takes a breath to calm herself down before continuing. “Sit down, please.”

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