Forsooth by Jimmy Matejek-Morris

Author:Jimmy Matejek-Morris [Matejek-Morris, Jimmy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Middle Grade, Fiction, Middle-Grade Fiction, Middle-Grade Novel, Middle-Grade Novels, novel, Novels, theater, friendship, family, self-discovery, courage, middle school, coming out, LGBTQIA+, performing, creativity
ISBN: 9781728493879
Publisher: Lerner Publishing Group
Published: 2023-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

I can tell my parents want so badly to punish me when we get home, but it’s not my fault that the priest embarrassing me embarrassed them, so instead the General mumbles something about being respectful, and Mom gives me permission to go to Maia’s after lunch.

Maia’s got the most vibrant bedroom I’ve ever seen. Hangers holding some of her best costumes from the school shows are tacked to the walls, popping against painted stripes of turquoise, orange, and green. Once I settle in, Maia wants to hear the dirt on my date, and . . .

Sorry, not date. Friend outing.

Wait. Not outing like Outing.

“Wow,” she says when I’ve finished telling her everything, except the pinkies and the feelings and the truth about the solo. “I’m jealous. I’ve never been on a date before.”

“It wasn’t a date,” I insist, glancing toward the doorway to make sure her mother isn’t lurking in the hall. I never should’ve said anything. “Can we just work on your song?”

“You sure there’s nothing else? Because, you know, if you want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

I shrug. “Thanks. I’m good, though.”

“I’m glad we’re friends now,” she says abruptly. “You and Jonah always used to hang with Kennedy. I didn’t mind when Nika still lived here, but after she moved away . . . I don’t know, I felt like I belonged in your group but wasn’t allowed in. Now I’m here, and it makes sense, you know?”

I never thought about it like that, but it does feel kind of right.

“My mom loves helping with the school shows—the costumes and stuff—but I feel like my parents don’t think I’m doing anything important. Now, my brothers with their soccer, that’s gonna lead to something, they’re so sure. But my dreams . . .” She trails off and looks at the costumes hanging on her wall. “They’re a hobby to squeeze in around your real work. This solo will finally show them my dreams matter, too.” She pauses, giving the guilt a moment to nestle into my chest. “It means a lot to me. So, if there’s ever anything you want to talk about, and I mean, anything . . .”

It’s a very pointed Anything that I can tell means Everything, which makes me feel like a big lying Nothing.

“Thanks,” I tell her. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.” We spend the rest of the afternoon selecting a song for Maia’s audition, plus some other songs for Kennedy’s film.

When I get home, Mom stops me in the hallway. “Put on some nice clothes. You have a date.”

“A what?” The floor drops out beneath me as I remember my not-a-date from last night.

But as it turns out, by date, Mom was actually using the most embarrassing wording possible to describe some awkward one-on-one time with my dad. He wants to take me to Sal’s for pizza, “just us guys.”

One hour later, a muted TV tacked onto the wall behind me illuminates the pizza parlor. We’re

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