Chapter 36
“H
e didn't say anything about being gay. But he had a conversation with me about drugs because he thinks you're on them after you lost your marbles in the supermarket,” Felix tells me the next morning on the way to school. That's the best news I could possibly hear in this shit sandwich.
We scuttle through the parking lot to escape the freezing cold.
The heat is thankfully working in the school.
As soon as we enter the cafeteria, the entire student body stops what they are doing and stares at us.
Looks of disgust and leering grins fall across their faces like dominoes.
I nudge Felix with my elbow, and we take off to my locker.
Unfortunately, someone else made it to my locker before me, because the word FAGSQUATCH is written in big balloon letters on top of a drawing of Bigfoot dancing in high heels.
Tuna Girl passes by us and flicks her tongue at me before telling me, “You're so full of shit.” Another dumb girl tells me her mom donated to my fundraiser and is praying for me.
“I thought you were already gay lovers,” somebody tells me and Felix.
“No, not at all. Don't be a jackass,” Felix says defensively. I know he's trying to protect speculation about his own identity. Still, I feel pierced through the heart.
I look at the fundraiser, and donations are pouring in from the most random corners of not just the country but the world.
The Second Ecumenical Council on Heterosexual Rights in Uganda sent me three hundred dollars.
The governor of Texas and his wife donated five hundred.
Each donation makes me feel ickier and ickier, but the dopamine in my brain gets a kick every time that number rises.
I rush to English to take my final.
The one good thing about the IntegriTruth invasion is that classes are easier now because you only need to tell the AI teachers what they want to hear, and you pass.
It literally scans for keywords in your essays that reflect IntegriTruth values.
Since my English final is an essay on individualism in The Fountainhead and I wasn't about to read a six-hundred-page book about guys having a dick-measuring contest over architecture, I mentally scraped what I needed from the Wikipedia synopsis to prepare.
Howard Roark is a complicated, multidimensional hero of Western individualism. On one hand, he is a rapist; on the other, he blew up the communist building and saved traditional America. In this essay, I will…
I write five paragraphs about muh individualism and submit. It's funny that they want to teach us about the value of individualism and then get mad at us when we act like individuals.
At the end of the day, I'm walking down the hall when the intercom rings.
“Congratulations, Wade Mader, for meeting your goal on your fundraiser!”
The hallway of students erupts in cheers. Some of them throw confetti at me, and some flash impromptu pieces of paper with congratulatory messages like Good luck in Siberia!
A wave of people, including Sutter Breedlove, pick me up and carry me through the hall like I've won the Super Bowl. Throngs of students watch me from the sides, including Felix, who stares on in helpless panic.
“Hey, man, now that you're rich, could you spot me a loan for a new MacBook?” one guy asks me.
Tuna Girl walks up to me, suspiciously nice, and says, “Wade! Are you doing anything this break? Want to hang out?” And then somebody grabs my ass.
I break free of the crowd and run to my special bathroom and kick Travis the Freshman out of my favorite stall once again.
My heart is beating through my chest. I check my phone and it's blowing up.
The fundraiser hit the goal. I'm getting all sorts of creepy messages and well wishes from the worst people.
I should be happy right now. I've saved the musical. I feel gross, though.
And why don't I take the money and go to LA with Felix?
Why do I even need the musical? I guess like somebody said, money burns quickly in LA.
And I'm the reason the musical got canceled to begin with, so the least I could do to make it up for everybody is bring it back.
I can keep the money I make from spidersitting and Rolandsitting.
Besides, Dinah would eventually sniff out the fact that I have that much money and find out how I got it, then steal every last cent for herself.
I dial Ms. Easterling, who is surprised to hear from me.
“Hi there! It's Wade. I hope you're having a terrible day, because I have some news that's going to immediately turn that around!”