“？Eso! No wonder you got a scholarship to Slayton.”
Cesar is definitely the better student between us. He skipped a grade, so we’re both about to be juniors. A lot of people assume we’re twins, which I don’t mind. It makes it slightly less embarrassing that my younger brother is so much smarter than me. I’m not in all honors classes like him, but I do all right.
Without a scholarship of my own, I’ll need to get another job ASAP to pay my half of tuition. It’s the only way Mom could afford to send us both to Slayton Catholic, and I’m more than happy to do the extra work. I would probably die of embarrassment if I had to go back to Rover High after what Bianca did. Catholic school and another job will be worth it if I never have to see her gorgeous, backstabbing face ever again. Goodbye, Rover, can’t say I’ll miss you.
I make sure all the blood is gone and dab some of Cesar’s superglue on the cut before going back to my room. By the time I’m done, you can barely tell I hurt myself. If nothing else, hiding my pain is one thing I’m good at.
Cesar’s lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, fidgeting with the cross at the end of the chain around his neck. “Do you really want to go to Slayton?”
I shrug and fall onto the bed next to him.
Bianca isn’t the only reason I need to go to Slayton, but I can’t tell Cesar that. As far as he knows, Mom’s forcing us both to go because we need a “better education,” with the best teachers and more advanced classes. It’s also Mom’s way of making up for the fact that she doesn’t have time to take us to church anymore.
At least, those are the reasons we tell Cesar. We don’t tell him it’s also because of all the trouble he’s been getting into at Rover, and that Mom thinks Slayton will be safer （because of the Catholic values）。 We don’t tell him I insisted on going with him to keep him out of trouble. It’s a fancy-ass Catholic school, but it’s a fresh start, for both of us. And at least now I’ll know to keep my mouth shut about any crushes. This time, I’ll be stealthy gay. Like Kristen Stewart.
Cesar rolls on his side to face me. “I heard it’s nothing but white people there.”
“Probably.” The students at Rover are mostly Black and Brown Chicanes, but Slayton’s on the north side of Scottsdale, about a forty-minute drive from where we live. Let’s just say there’s not a lot of melanin over there. I could probably pay my tuition selling sunscreen between classes.
“And the football team sucks,” he says.
“You don’t even play football.”
“And now I never will.” There’s a sad gleam in his eye, as if playing football was once a dream of his. I swear he’s the most dramatic guy I know.
“Aww, pobrecito.” I try to pinch his cheek but he swats my hand away. He’s only ten months younger than me, but I’ll never let him forget he’s the baby.
“I heard they make you do, like, ten hours of homework a day. That’s called child abuse. When will we sleep? When will we eat? We’re gonna starve!” He throws his arms in the air.
I laugh and hit him with my pillow. “We’ll live.” I don’t mention that he’s the one who’ll have the excess homework, with all the AP and honors classes he’s in. “Besides, it’s better than the alternative, right?”
“What alternative?”
“You know”—I gesture to his bruised eye—“getting jumped?” His jaw clenches, and I immediately feel bad for bringing it up, so I keep going. “Or eating moldy chicken nuggets for lunch. That’s child abuse. At least Slayton can afford to feed us real food.”
“I guess.” He doesn’t sound amused. Cesar has no self-preservation instincts. It’s almost as if he wants to keep getting his ass kicked at Rover.