The Gayest Ben I thought I knew what soreness was all about until this morning. Mom will have to send a note to school with Lynn: Carter will not attend classes today because he is paralyzed. They say swimming is the best exercise. Well, whoever “they” are, they don’t know Coach Barker. Her brand of swimming can kill you! But I’m going back. Andre isn’t getting a lane all to himself, and he’ll never know what a “pussy” I really am. My Advil breakfast does the trick, and I’m okay as long as I stay perfectly still. I feel pretty good, in fact. I didn’t do any homework last night, but I just aced a math quiz. I don’t need to study more; I just need to sleep more. I try to hang out with my boys at the lockers, but a stench has filled the halls today. Like a peppermint acid spill. “It smells like an Altoids factory exploded around here!” Bag yells. “What is that?” I ask. “That’s the smell of gayness,” J-Low says. The football/wrestling coach walks up and starts laughing.
