“Why?”
“It’s just . . . different from here.” I turn to face the lake instead of her.
“Do you think I’ll judge you or something?”
“I don’t know . . .”
“I know most people don’t have as much money as we do, and as much money as most people at Slayton do. I’m not that sheltered. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Okay.”
“Do you think you’re ever going to let me drop you off at your actual house?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and think about it. “Probably not.”
“Okay. That’s fine, I guess. . . .” She looks away. I think I hurt her feelings.
I know she won’t judge me, but maybe I’m not as ready for Bo to know me as I thought I was. I want her to know me in some ways. I want her to know the good stuff, like the way I think and what I like. I want her to know all the things we have in common. Well, most of the things we have in common.
I want her to know about how we both love animals, and how our names mean the same thing, and how we’re both competitive, and like the same kinds of jokes. And maybe part of me even wants her to know I’m gay. I want to keep feeling like we’re the same.
But we’re not.
19
Addendum: Thou Shalt Commit Adulting
I know I can come back anytime I want, but I’m sad to leave Bo’s place the next day. Time to go back to surviving. I swear Bo’s mom is getting misty-eyed when I hug them all goodbye.
“It was so nice having you around, Yamilet. Drive safely!” she says.
“Mom, she’s still my friend. It’s not like you’ll never see her again.” Bo pushes her mom out of the way to hug me. “Seriously, I hope they didn’t scare you out of ever coming back.”
“No! I love you guys!” I surprise myself at how affectionate I’m being right now.
“We love you!” Bo’s dad shouts, and makes a hand-heart.
I’ll miss them, but when I get to the airport, I run to my mom and throw myself into a hug the minute I see her. I missed my mom’s hugs. I missed my mom.
“Ay, mija, you’re gonna break my back,” she says, but she’s squeezing me just as tight.
Cesar pretends to clear his throat, and I let go of my mom and hug him. I missed Cesar, too. A lot. I want to ask them about the trip, but I also don’t want to hear about Dad, and I think Cesar gets my telepathic message. He hugs me back and talks about how he missed his bed.
And that reminds me how much I miss my bed.
The one in Bo’s guest room is much comfier than mine, but right now, I don’t want to be in any other bed but my own. As soon as we get home, I leap onto my mattress. It creaks at me to please not jump, but I don’t listen. When I settle in, there’s already cumbia music echoing through the house. I missed this.
After Cesar and I get plenty of time to soak up the feeling of being back in our beds, he comes into my room and sits at the foot of mine.
“Hey,” I say, but he doesn’t answer. Not for a while. I sit up and lean against the wall, waiting for whatever it is he needs to say.
“You were right.”
“What?”
“About Dad. You were right.” My stomach drops. Oh no . . .
“What do you mean?” I ask. Did Cesar come out??
“He just kept saying shit that pissed me off. I mean, I’m glad I went, I had a good time, you know? But I know why you didn’t want me to go. And I get why you didn’t want to.” He rubs the back of his neck. This feels like another one of his almost-apologies.