Okay, I changed Wesley from being homosexual to being pansexual. Just so you guys know.
Also, this chapter's from Zoë's point of view.

We had a substitute teacher. They’re the only ones who ever bother with the roll call. The other teachers do it for the first three days of school and then just give up on it.
    The substitute was one of those grumpy old ladies with the white hair and thin glasses that she wore on the end of her nose. She introduced herself as Ms. Norman. She pronounced it Mizzzzzz, drawing out the Z so she sounded like a bumble bee.
    She took out the roll call and began:
    “Alfred Clayton!”
    “Here!”
    “Travis Desmarais!”
    “Here,” Travis sinabi in a bored tone.
    “Zoë Fielder!”
    “Here!” I called.
    “Winston Giles!”
    “Here.”
    “Ash Intili.”
    Nobody sinabi “here.”
    Ms. Norman looked up from the paper. “Ash Intili,” she repeated.
    Again, no answer.
    “Okay,” Ms. Norman said, marking something on the paper.
    Suddenly Ash burst into the room. He was panting, and his face was flushed like he had been running. His eyes were red, and his dark blond hair looked windblown and messy.
    Somehow he was still cute.
    Ash sat down at his upuan and ran his fingers through his hair.
    “That’s Ash,” someone said.
    “You’re Ash?” Ms. Norman asked.
    Ash nodded, his cheeks still red under the freckles.
    “You have a tardy slip?” sinabi Ms. Norman.
    “No,” Ash sinabi breathlessly.
    “No what?”
    “Um…no, I don’t have it.”
    “You mean no ma’am?”
    “Uh…yeah. Okay.”
    Ms. Norman glowered at him. “Why are you late?”
    “I missed the bus.”
    “So you walked?”
    “I ran.”
    “Ash, you could have called me. You know I car ride,” I said.
    Ash shook his head. “It was fine.”
    “Alright, go get your tardy slip,” Ms. Norman said.
    Ash nodded and got up. He went out the door.
    I remembered that his eyes had been red and puffy. Like maybe he hadn’t gotten enough sleep.
    Or maybe he had been crying.
    My hand shot into the air.
    “Yes, Suzie?” Ms. Norman asked.
    “Zoë,” I corrected.
    “What is it, Miss Fielder?”
    “Can I use the bathroom?”
    “Can you wait?”
    “No. I really need to pee. In fact, if I don’t pee right now, I might wet—”
    Ms. Norman held up her hand, a pained expression on her face. “Spare me the details. You may use the bathroom.”
    I jumped to my feet and hurried out the door.
    Ash was leaning against the wall. He was hugging himself tightly, his eyes closed. Tears seeped out from between his eyelids.
    I touched his arm. He jumped. When he saw me, he wiped the tears away and forced a smile.
    “What’s wrong?” I asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “Do you need to go to the nurse?”
    “No.”
    “Do you want to go to the office? We could call your parents. Maybe your mom could come pick you up or something.”
    Ash started crying again. I reached up around his neck and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close, tears running down his face.
    If he hadn’t been crying, I would have been in paradise. I’d never been hugged sa pamamagitan ng a boy before, except my brother and Quin, which doesn’t really feel the same. I mean, neither of them would petsa me.
    Unfortunately, he was crying, so instead of being in paradise, I was just worried about him.
    “Seriously, Ash, what’s wrong?” I asked.
    He shook his head and pulled away, sobbing hard.
    “Ash, stop crying. You’re going to make yourself throw up,” I said.
    He wiped his eyes. “I already did.”
    “You threw up?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Okay, then we to get you to the office and call your parents.”
    “No! No, I don’t want to go home, Zoë.”
    “Ash, you need—”
    “No!”
    His eyes looked panicked. He was hyperventilating a little.
    “I can’t go back home, Zo. Please? I don’t want to, please?”
    I shouldn’t have looked into those eyes. If I hadn’t seen the tears pooling in them, I might have been able to send him back home, like someone who’s crying and throwing up should.
    But he just looked so sad. I couldn’t stand it.
    “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go get your tardy slip.”