Frederick is new to San Cayetano Middle School, and he immediately catches the eye of Xio, the beautiful, vivacious member of the self-proclaimed “Las Sexy Seis” (the Sexy Six). Any number of boys would want to trade places with Frederick, so he can’t figure out why he doesn’t feel for Xio the same way she does for him. Xio takes Frederick’s ambivalence for shyness and does everything in her power to accomplish that all-important first kiss.
While Xio pines for Frederick, Frederick notices Victor, the friendly, affectionate jock who invites him to play soccer after school. He finds himself drawn to Victor, and even, at one confusing moment, imagining what it would feel like to kiss him. Then there’s Iggy, the dimpled enigma who endures endless teasing in the hallways. Victor and his friends taunt Iggy, calling him “maricón,” and the Sexies also talk about the rumor that Iggy is gay when Frederick sits with them at lunch:
“Here comes Iggy!” Nora interrupted.
I followed her gaze across the lunchroom to the Mexican boy I’d noticed in the hall my first day—the one who smiled like he knew me. Dimpled Guy.
“You mean icky,” Carmen murmured, making a sour face. “I think maricónes are so gross.”
“En serio?” María put down her yogurt. “You really think he’s gay?”
I recalled the boys picking on him, but I knew that calling someone gay didn’t mean they actually were gay. It was simply a put-down, like: “That’s so gay. He’s so gay. Those French fries are so gay.” Everyone said it all the time.
Sanchez (2004), p. 39
Even at this point, Frederick is far from going beyond the questions he has about himself to being able to conclude that he, himself, might be gay. The taunts are taken with a grain of salt, as Frederick observes, because it’s simply “a put-down”—nothing more. Yet, when Carmen asks him if he is gay one day at lunch, Frederick gets very defensive. Xio observes:
I’d never really seen him mad before, but I couldn’t blame him. Everyone knows calling someone gay is just about the worst thing you can say to them. And asking them if they’re gay is like telling them you think they are gay.
Sanchez (2004), p. 83
Once Carmen asks him if he’s gay (even though it’s meant more as a “put-down,” than a sincere, though prying question), Frederick begins to wonder. If Iggy is gay, how did he know? He begins to research on the Internet and finds a story of a basketball player who has come out to his school. “He didn’t look gay,” Frederick thinks. “I mean, he just looked normal.” And so begins his journey towards self-discovery. Towards the end of the novel, Frederick has made leaps and bounds, though he hasn’t yet come out to his parents. Even the students at San Cayetano become a little more aware that their words have power. Switching perspective between Frederick and Xio, Sanchez’s book is a sweet story of thirteen-year-old kids—both gay and straight—coming to understand themselves, at the beginning of their young-adult years.
Sanchez, A. (2004). So hard to say. New York: Simon & Schuster.