PART 1

The whispers started before Julian’s name was even called.

By the time he reached the principal, people were openly staring.

Then someone behind me said loudly enough for several rows to hear:

“What is WRONG with that guy?”

A few people laughed.

I felt my entire body tense.

But Julian never looked toward them.

He simply shook the principal’s hand, accepted his diploma, and stood there for a moment in that bright red dress as nearly six hundred people watched him.

Two weeks earlier, he had told me exactly what he planned to do.

It was after 2 a.m. in our kitchen.

Neither of us had been sleeping much.

When he showed me the dress, I immediately shook my head.

“Please don’t do this.”

He looked at me calmly.

“Mom, I have to.”

“They’ll be cruel to you.”

“I know.”