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Hal couldn’t deny that he felt a little dazed being back in the halls of his old high school. It didn’t help it had apparently been stuck in a time capsule since the Class Of ‘89 graduated. Hal rapped a finger on the door of the front office and poked his head in.
“Mrs. Perez?”
Valencia Perez squinted at Hal over her wire-framed glasses. Like the rest of the school, she looked the same as she had when Hal was a student, down to the crunchy bouffant hairdo that, frankly, was already dated in 1989.
“Do you remember me, Mrs. Perez?” said Hal, taking off his aviators. “I went to school here.”
“Honey, I forget your faces the minute you get that diploma.”
“Well, it’s good to see you again. I’m here to pick up my cousin.”
“Name?”
“Hal Jordan Jr.”
“Do you know what grade he’s in?”
Hal was a little embarrassed he had to stop to think about it. Being in space for long stretches of time tended to mess up his perception of time. “He’s a sophomore.”
“Okay. . . yeah, you’re on the list. You can wait here for him, the bell rings in five minutes.”
“Can I pick him up a little early?”
“No you may not.”
Hal took out his phone and shot a quick text to his cousin: hey, kid. I’m picking you up today. Meet me in the front office after school.
Hal Jr. responded, simply, k.
Hal put his phone in his pocket and looked around the room, whistling. His eye caught on a trophy case boasting the school’s accomplishments. Most of it was dedicated to the football team, but in the corner, he saw a little bronze trophy cup that read 1987 DISTRICT BASEBALL CHAMPIONSHIPS MVP: HAL JORDAN, COAST CITY HIGH SCHOOL. Hal smiled and turned to Mrs. Perez. “My old trophy’s in there.”
“Take it if you want.”
“Oh, no thanks.”
“Baseball team’s disbanded anyway.”
“What happened?”
Mrs. Perez shrugged. “Funding got cut.”
“Shame.”
The bell rang and a mass of teenagers flooded into the hallways. The office door swung open and Hal Jordan Jr. walked in, head bowed, frowning.
Hal grinned. “Hey, how was your day?”
Hal Jr. shrugged. “S’fine. Can we go?”
Hal turned back to Mrs. Perez, who nodded and waved her hand dismissively. Hal Jr. turned around wordlessly and started heading out the door.
The cousins sat wordlessly in Hal’s car, as Hal Jr. stared intently at his shoelaces.
“So,” said Hal. “Anything interesting happen today?”
“Not really.”
“Long day?”
“I guess.”
Hal sighed. “Come on, kid, talk to me.”
Hal Jr. threw his hands in the air. “I’m fine!”
Hal stopped at a red light and turned to face Hal Jr. “Hey. Look at me, Hal. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, okay? You wanna go get some ice cream?”
Hal had been taking Hal Jr. to get sundaes at The Sunshine Parlor since he was old enough to comprehend the concept of ice cream. Every flunked test and soccer game since, Hal The Elder ordered a butterscotch sundae with pecans and Hal The Younger ordered mint chocolate chip with hot fudge. It seemed like a small, silly little thing to take comfort in, but Hal Jordan had learned to take comfort in little wisps of routine and stability.
Hal Jr. sat in a booth, joylessly picking at his ice cream. Hal slid a few dimes into the jukebox (that somehow still worked). The crisp tinkling of the synths kicked in as Hal slid in across from Hal Jr. and gestured at the jukebox.
“This song came out when I was your age.”
“Cool.”
“You ever seen the music video?”
“No.”
“Greatest love story ever told. She’s a girl that reads comics, he’s a drawing that comes to life- look, you’re laughing, but I’m telling you, it was like Romeo and Juliet for my generation.”
Hal Jr. rolled his eyes and his mouth twitched. “Bet it was.”
“Hey, you want to impress a girl? Turn in a sentient drawing, it works every time.”
Hal Jr. cast his eyes away. “Yeah.”
Hal stopped. He’d said something wrong, apparently. He wasn’t Hal’s age too long ago- he was in Mrs. Jackson’s homeroom class, he saw Top Gun in the movie theaters, and above all else, there was nothing he hated more than adults giving their terrible advice in a well-meaning attempt to convince them their problems didn’t matter. But god, was it hard for Hal to not try to fix this. This must be what it’s like to be Ollie.
“Hey,” said Hal tentatively. “You know, when I was a sophomore, I remember when I failed a test for the first time. I was so hard on myself, I thought my life was over, that I was just a complete failure. But, you know, I got through it, and now, looking back, I’m wondering why I-”
“I didn’t fail a test.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks, though.”
Hal sighed and put his spoon down on the table. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
Hal Jr. hesitated. “You won’t tell my mom?”
“Never.”
Hal Jr. sighed and picked at his ice cream. “Everyone at school’s a fucking asshole.”
Hal nodded. “God, ain’t that the truth.”
“Sorry for cursing.”
“No, let it out.”
“Just ‘cause Liam Parker’s dad’s rich and they go on, like, cruises every Christmas, y’know, now Liam thinks he can do whatever he wants, and he kind of can, all the teachers love him and the principal’s friends with his dad. Gets away with everything, and that just makes him think he can do whatever, y’know?”
“Kid sounds like a real dick.”
Hal Jr. smiled a little. “Yeah. And today-” Hal Jr’s voice cracked and he kicked his backpack on the ground.
“Whoa, hey-”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. Okay, what happened?”
“You promise you won’t tell my mom?”
“Hal, I promise that nothing you tell me today will leave this room.”
Hal Jr. sighed. “Okay. So I go to class and this girl hugs me and says she’s proud of me, and I’m just like ‘I’ve literally never met you’. Then Liam and his stupid fucking friends come in, they’re laughing, ‘hey Hal’- it doesn’t sound bad, but they said it in like, a really dickish way, you know? So after class, one of my friends tells me that Liam-” Hal Jr. clenched his jaw. “Liam found my blog online, and took all these screenshots and reposted them all over his Instagram, and now the whole school knows. . . The whole school knows that,” Hal Jr. took a breath. “That I’m gay,”
Hal’s gaze softened, and he put his arm around Hal Jr.’s shoulder. “Hey,” he whispered. “‘S okay, kid. C’mere.”
Hal Jr. let out a shaky breath and leaned his head on his cousin’s shoulder, wiping his eyes with a sweatshirt sleeve. “I-I was worried that you’d hate me.”
Hal’s chest sank. “Hey, you know. . .” Hal paused. He didn’t exactly share these things with most people. Definitely not with family. Word travels fast among The Jordans. But if this wasn’t worth opening up for, Hal didn’t know what was. “When I was about your age, I remember when I had my first crush. . . on a boy in my class.”
Hal Jr. looked up. “Really?”
“Yeah, Matthew Lowenstein, he was on the baseball team-”
“Is that why you joined?”
Hal laughed. “It wasn’t the only reason, I’ll have you know I threw a mean speedball.”
“But you, y’know. . .” said Hal Jr.
Hal smiled warmly. “It’s taken me a while to come to terms with it. But gender never mattered much to me. I’ve loved women. Loved men. I’ll be honest with you, on most planets, gender’s not really relevant.”
“I-” said Hal Jr. “I really thought I was the first queer Jordan.”
“Hey, it’s hard out here for us pioneers.”
Hal Jr. smiled. “It is kind of nice that, y’know. I’m not in it alone.”
“You never are. C’mere,” Hal put his arm around Hal Jr and squeezed his shoulder. “So,” said Hal. “Any guys at school you like?”
Hal Jr. rolled his eyes. “No!”
“Okay, just asking.”
“I mean. . .”
“Oh?”
Hal Jr. laughed. “It’s not a big deal, but, like, today he did say he thought was Liam did was total bullshit and we talked. For like ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes?”
“Yeah. His name is Malcolm. He plays guitar. He said he’s sending me a playlist.”
“Okay, you know that’s a huge sign, right?”
“I guess.”
“And for the record?” said Hal. “That turning into a sentient drawing trick? Works on boys, too.”