I stare at a blank canvas for most of art class.
“Hey, can we talk, Yami?” Bo touches my shoulder. She should know not to touch me when I’m about to cry, because all I want to do is turn around, get a hug, and sob. But I can’t, so I smile and nod, like I’ve been doing all day.
She steps closer now, so only I can hear her.
“Are you avoiding me?”
I can’t think about Bo’s feelings right now. I can’t deal with any more feelings. I know it looks bad. I know it looks like I’m ghosting her after our kiss. I know it looks like it has something to do with Jamal, my “ex.” But I can’t think about it. I can’t think about Bo being mad at me on top of everything else.
“Yami.” She touches my shoulder again, and I can’t handle it. I shake her hand off and bolt. I grab my bag and run straight to the bathroom without asking Ms. Felix.
First thing I do when I get to the bathroom is take out my makeup.
“No, no, no . . .” My eyeliner is starting to drip. I get a paper towel and wipe the edge of my eye so it doesn’t smear down my cheek. The door starts to open, so I rush into a stall and lock the door before anyone comes inside.
I see rainbow Vans under the stall door. It’s Bo. An ugly sob escapes from the back of my throat against my will. I can’t cry quietly anymore. I hear the stall door next to me open, and the sound of Bo sitting down. It feels like confession. But a priest could never absolve me of my guilt, and neither can Bo.
She reaches under the stall with a literal white flag in her hand: a wad of toilet paper, just like the first time I came in here crying. Of course it was Bo. It’s always Bo. I want to laugh, but I can’t stop crying. I take the toilet paper to blow my nose. Her stall door opens, and she knocks on mine.
I open the door and fall straight into her arms. She stumbles back a little but catches me.
“I’m here,” she says. It’s all I needed to hear. I’m tired of this double life, of the lies.
I finally let all the secrets pour out of me like a broken dam, and I can’t stop until I’m rid of every last secret. I tell her about Cesar, and Jamal. About Bianca and my dad. All of it.
My knees give out, and she lowers me to the floor to sit. She rubs my back, and when I’m done, she lets me cry in her arms until the dam runs dry.
24
Tú Eres Mi Otro Yo
Bo comes with me to the library after school. I roll my eyes at Karen and her boyfriend, who are making out in the back corner. It’s Wednesday, so Bo wants to take me home after we’re done here. I could use the moral support. There’s something I need to fix before Cesar gets home.
In the library, I retype the Code of the Heart and the poem. I switch the font about twelve times to get it exactly how Cesar had it. I don’t want him knowing I got blood on this. When I finally get it right, I print it out and let Bo drive me home. Part of me feels guilty for still having feelings for her. But I also think Cesar would be pissed if I stopped talking to Bo because of what happened with him. He’s been trying to convince me to go out with her all year.
I stare at the poem the whole ride without saying anything. I don’t want to talk. Bo holds my hand, and I wince. I didn’t realize how much hand holding could hurt.
She doesn’t ask about the scabs on my fists. Instead, she pulls my hand to her lips and gently kisses my knuckles like she gets it. When we pull up to the house, I don’t get out of the car. The driveway is empty, but it still feels too familiar. I don’t want to go back into the house alone. I blink to clear my vision.
“Yami?” Bo looks concerned.
“Do you want to come inside?” I ask.
She smiles. “Are you sure?”