“Okay. I’ll work on taking things less personally, and you”— Bo holds out her pinky to me, and I take it—“will be brave.”
Her eyes are so reflective in the moonlight that I can see myself in them. I could tell her how I feel right now. I could kiss her under the fireworks.
Be brave.
The thunder of the next firework shakes me back to my senses. It’s a New Year’s resolution. I can start on the bravery tomorrow.
“So my turn . . . What’s the real reason you didn’t go to Mexico with your family? Don’t you want to see your dad?”
My smile drops, and when I don’t answer, she continues.
“It’s just . . . I’ve seen your wallpaper,” Bo goes on. “You guys look really happy.”
I think I could maybe tell her everything right now. That I’m gay. That my dad isn’t cool with it. That he might tell my mom while she’s over there.
But I’m not brave.
Not even brave enough to change my freaking wallpaper. It’s like if I change it, I’m admitting he’s never going to come around. And it’s not that I don’t trust Bo. I do. Other than Cesar, I trust her more than anyone right now. But . . . I’m not ready to tell her.
“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s okay. I just . . . I don’t really get along with my dad anymore. But I don’t want to talk about him.” Even mentioning him makes me want to cry.
“That’s fine, I understand.”
“My turn.” I want to get the focus off my dad as quick as possible. “Why do you adopt ugly animals?”
“They’re not ugly!”
“They’re a little ugly.” I laugh, and she frowns at me. It’s a playful frown, at first. Then her eyes wander to the lake and she chews on her lip.
“I guess I just want to take the animals other people would leave behind. All the cute animals have no problem getting rescued. But the ugly ones might eventually get put down, you know?”
I nod. “I never really thought of it that way,” I say. Of course Bo would think of the well-being of all the “ugly” animals. “So, it’s your turn,” I say. She shifts her body to face me again.
“Okay, um . . .” She takes a minute. “Are you embarrassed for me to meet your mom?”
“You already met her at the homecoming game.”
“I know, but that was in a group. Like, you never want me to go over to your house. And you take the light rail instead of letting me drop you off. But you let David pick you up when you guys came over. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but I thought maybe you didn’t want your mom to know me too well. Because of the gay thing . . .” She starts fidgeting. “Sorry, I know, I’m already going against my resolution. I can get a little paranoid. Ignore me.” She’s wrong, but I hate how relatable that is right now. It’s almost off-putting, because Bo usually comes across so confident.
“Why didn’t you tell me you thought that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I was scared to know the truth.”
It seems like Bo has no problem calling out teachers and administrators and even priests, but when it comes to her friends, she holds it in. I think I get why. When it’s someone you care about, you have more to lose. But is she really afraid of losing me?
“Well, I’m not embarrassed of you at all,” I say. Even if my mom is homophobic, she’d never treat a guest poorly, no matter who it was. “Um . . . I’m actually a little embarrassed for you to know where I live.”