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(drunkenly practicing in front of a mirror) Simon: Hey, Bram, it's me, Jacques. Bram, I'm Jacques. Hey, Barack, it's me, Jacques. Why did I pick Jacques?

Simon: You... actually, uh, I did want to talk to you guys about something. Emily: What is it? Simon: (stammering) Uh, well... Jack: Let me guess. You got somebody pregnant. No, you're pregnant. Simon: Yeah. Jack: I knew it! Simon: Yeah, I'm pregnant. Jack: I knew it. I mean, he's got that glow about him, babe. Simon: No, um... (struggles to get the words out) Simon: I'm gay. (Emily and Jack are both quiet) Emily: Honey... Simon: And I don't want you guys to think anything different. I'm still me... Emily: Of course you are, Simon. Jack: Yeah. So you're gay. Which one of your old girlfriends turned you? Was it the one with the big eyebrow or... Emily: Jack. Nora: Jesus Christ, dad, do you ever shut the hell up? Jack: I'm kidding. Nora: It's not funny! Jack: I'm kidding. Hey, Nora, open up your gift, please? (an embarrassed Jack exits the living room)

Simon: Did you know? Emily: I knew you had a secret. When you were little, you were so carefree. But these last few years, more and more, it almost like I can feel you holding your breath. I wanted to ask you about it, but I didn't wan to pry. Maybe I made a mistake. Simon: No. No, mom, you didn't make a mistake. Emily: Being gay is your thing. There are parts of it you have to go through alone. I hate that. As soon as you came out, you said, "Mom, I'm still me." I need you to hear this: You are still you, Simon. You are still the same son who I love to tease and who your father depends on for just about everything. And you're the same brother who always complements his sister on her food, even when it sucks. You get to exhale now, Simon. You get to be more you than you have been in... in a very long time. You deserve everything you want.

Ms. Albright: Don't "Hey, Ms. Albright" me. We're not friends. You're not going to braid my hair or paint my nails. Get your ass off the table now, you sweaty, hormonal virgins. You know what? You're about to be suspended for so long that by the time it's over, you're going to be the fat, bald, unhappily married, wildly mediocre nobodies you're destined to become. Spencer: You can't talk to us like that. Ms. Albright: Actually I can, 'cuz I just did. And you know why? Because you're just those two assholes who did that shitty thing in front of the whole school. And guess what? Nobody feels sorry for those assholes, especially me. Now walk. Mr. Worth's office. Now. Ms. Albright: (Grabbing speaker) Unh-uh. That's mine now. I'm'ma sell it, get my tubes tied.

Ms. Albright: I was an extra in "The Lion King" and this is where I am.

Ms. Albright: Suraj, stop pretending that trumpet is your penis. It is a rental.

Simon: (after a fantasy) Yeah, maybe not that gay.

Bram: Are you disappointed that it's me? Simon: (smiling) No. (Simon leans in to kiss Bram)

Simon: As anyone with a half decent data plan already knows, a recent post on this very website declared that I was gay. The delivery left something to be desired, but the message is true. I am... gay. For a long time, I was killing myself to hide that fact. I had all these reasons, it was unfair that only gay people had to come out, I was sick of change, but the truth is, I was just scared. First, I thought it was just a gay thing but then I realised that no matter what, announcing who you are to the world is pretty terrifying cause what if the world doesn't like you. So, I did whatever I could to keep my secret. I hurt the best, most important people and I want them to know that I'm sorry. I am done being scared. I'm done living in a world where I don't get to be who I am. I deserve a great love story. Disclaimer, this is about to get romantic as F. So, anyone adverse to gratuitous feelings kindly click over to the BuzzFeed quiz or resume the porn you paused to read this. This guy that I love once wrote that he felt like he was stuck on a Ferris wheel. On top of the world one minute, rock bottom the next. That's how I feel now. I couldn't ask for more amazing friends, more understanding family, but it would be all so much better if I had someone to share it with. So Blue, I might not know your name or what you look like, but I know who you are. I know you're funny and thoughtful. You choose your words carefully and that they're always perfect and I know that you've been pretending for so long it's hard to believe that you can stop. I get it. Like I told you at the very beginning, I'm just like you. So Blue, after the play, Friday at 10, you know where I'll be. No pressure for you to show up but I hope you do. Because you deserve a great love story too. Love, Simon.

Leah: Tell me about this guy you love. Simon: You sure? Leah: Yeah. It'll help me kill off hetero Simon in my mind. Simon: You don't have to kill him off. Leah: He's dead, Si. Hacking him up with a mental machete as we speak. Simon: Fair enough.

Blue: Are you disappointed that it's me? Simon: (smiling) No. (Simon leans in to kiss Blue)

Abby: Wonder Woman in the hizzy!

Nick: Hey, are you into Abby? Simon: Me? No. No. I mean, she's great. She's cute, but she's just not really my type. And not because she's black. I love black women. Not, like, y'know, I have a thing for black women. I, I just... I just I love all women.

Emily: What rhymes with "patriarchy?" (holds up a sign that reads "Down with the Patriachy") Simon: That says "patriachy," though. Emily: Oh, shit.

Simon: Are you surprised? Abby: No. Simon: So you knew. Abby: No. Simon: But you're not surprised? Abby: Do you want me to be surprised? Simon: I don't know. Abby: Ok. Well, I love you.

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