Breakthrough by Jack Andraka Read Free Book Online Page A

Head.” It didn’t exactly make sense, considering nothing about my haircut resembled a coconut, but my classmates didn’t seem to care. Wheneversomeone so much as uttered the word coconut , laughter always followed.
    Jake had moved. Sam had moved. Logan wasn’t talking to me. I was utterly alone. I was also beginning to confront my sexuality. I couldn’t ignore all the signs anymore—I knew I was gay. Still, I remained determined to at least try to pretend that I was the same as everyone else. Part of me still held out hope that maybe all these strange feelings would just go away.
    For many reasons, this seemed like the best course of action. First, there was the built-in gay-hater lingo, which had become an embedded part of middle school vocabulary. In case you didn’t know, in the kid edition of the dictionary, the word gay is a synonym for weird, uncool, cowardly, or essentially anything that sucks in the world.
    If someone is acting stupid, they are “being totally gay.”
    If someone lacks courage, they are told, “Dude, stop being gay.”
    If someone likes the wrong music—yup, you guessed it, that is “so gay.” So as you could imagine, coming out as literally gay didn’t seem like the best option for twelve-year-old Jack.
    Even though I had tried to hide it, it was becoming increasingly clear to everyone at school that I was gay. They now had the perfect weapon to berate and taunt me.
    By the midpoint of my seventh-grade year, it seemed my family and Uncle Ted were the only ones who still thought I was straight.Every day after school I came home, took a seat at the kitchen table, and tried to lose myself in the world of math and science. I kept my pain to myself. I still didn’t feel comfortable talking about my personal problems, in part because I didn’t fully understand them.
    It felt like a breath of fresh air when I saw Uncle Ted. He was always so positive. He could tell something was on my mind but didn’t want to press me. Instead, he looked down at my paper and shook his head.
    â€œHow’s it going, Jack?” he asked.
    â€œWell, I’m struggling with square numbers,” I said.
    â€œThere is a better way,” he said as he picked up my pencil. It was another mental math shortcut. This one was even better than the long-division one. Uncle Ted patiently showed me how to work through the problems.
    â€œJack,” he said to me before walking away, “whatever is going on at school, remember that it can be easy to lose yourself, but always try to remember who you are. No one can touch you unless you let them.”
    It wouldn’t be long before his advice was put to the test.
    My classmates decided that they needed to bring my differences out into the open. I was waiting along with the rest of my class for my music teacher to come and open the doors, when eight or nine boys surrounded me in a circle.
    â€œWhat’s up, dork?” one kid from the cool clique called out.
    Yes, they were talking to me. Of course they were talking to me. I tried to act like I didn’t hear it, but that only made the voices louder.
    â€œWhat are you going to do, loser?”
    â€œAre you going to cry?”
    I looked around for the teacher. She was late. The hecklers had an audience and they were prepared to put on a show.
    â€œYou know that you aren’t going to amount to anything, right, loser?”
    It was unprovoked. My only crime was standing outside class quietly. I felt my face turn beet red. I tried to smile. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.
    Where is the teacher!?! Where is the teacher!?!
    I lowered my head and waited. I knew the teacher would be there any second. Any second.
    The circle tightened.
    â€œAre you going to cry, fag?”
    I could now feel the hot breath of their words hitting me. I avoided eye contact. Now I wished I really was invisible. Now I wished there was a