“I guess that makes us family!” I’m sitting next to him, so I give him a little side hug.
“Sister!” He hugs me back like we’ve always known each other.
“People say that? I don’t see it,” Bo says, squinting over at Cesar’s table.
“It’s racism,” Amber says through a cough.
I’m kind of relieved someone else said it. It’s much safer when the white girl is the one to point it out.
“Well, I’m Amber. Bo’s best friend since kindergarten.” She throws an arm around Bo, who flinches at the contact. Now I see what Jenna meant about jumpiness being cute. I shun the thought. I don’t want to think about Jenna . . . or Bo being cute.
But something tugs at my chest, and I think I’m a little jealous? Because Bo is gay—probably—and she has a best friend since kindergarten who stuck with her.
“David is our other best friend, since freshman year.” Amber puts her other arm around David. “You can be our best friend, too, if you want.” She smiles. And I know I’m supposed to be more careful about getting too close to Bo, but I can’t help but like her and her friends. Especially after the way she stood up for me in class yesterday, whether or not she knew that’s what she was doing by protesting that gay rights debate. I feel the need to show my gratitude.
“So, Bo . . . I just wanted to say thanks for yesterday. For what you said in class.”
She gives me a weak smile. Like she gets that a lot. Like she’s disappointed I didn’t back her up. That no one did. I can’t help but feel guilty about it.
“So, you’re not friends with Jenna and them anymore?” Bo changes the subject. She’s looking at her food instead of at me.
“Come on, Bo, I thought you were over her!” David playfully nudges Bo’s shoulder, but she doesn’t laugh.
“I am! I mean—I was never under her!” Bo’s cheeks are turning a blotchy red. I wouldn’t blame her if she had a crush on Jenna. I could have almost caught one before she revealed her whole self with that “ghetto” comment.
“I’m not buying that for one second,” Amber says. Jeez, they’re putting all her business out there for me.
“Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I like Jenna.” Bo whispers Jenna’s name so no one outside our group hears. So Bo is gay, and she’s okay with me knowing. Hearing Bo say it out loud sends me into an existential crisis. My heart beats quicker, trying to catch up with my racing thoughts and internal squealing. Inevitably, I miss the rest of their argument.
Not being the only gay girl at school should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. What if Bo knows? I feel like she knows. Because gay people have the most solid gaydars, right? Besides me, I guess. Maybe it works better when you’re not in denial.
If I had a better gaydar, maybe I could have avoided all this to begin with.
That gives me déjà vu. Bianca said that to me—that she would have avoided being friends if she’d known. The thought makes me sick. No, I wouldn’t have avoided it. I want to be friends with Bo. Lord knows I need some decent friends. I’ll just have to throw off her gaydar somehow.
“No, I’m not friends with Jenna and them.” I cut into the conversation before Bo implodes, or I do. “I can’t stand them, to be honest.”
“Right?” Amber says. “They’re the worst.”
“Karen is a bitch, but they’re not all bad. I used to play volleyball with them, before I quit,” Bo says to me, her face still all blotchy. “Jenna and Emily were always nice to me.”
“So anyways,” Amber says, seemingly eager to change the subject. “Tell us about yourself, new best friend!”