Amber leans toward Hunter with her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her hand. “What did we humble peasants do to deserve your company?”
Hunter blushes for a second. I wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t so white, since he gains his composure real fast. He gives me a subtle half smile.
Bo raises her eyebrows at Amber, then winks at me when Hunter isn’t looking. I guess Karen and them aren’t the only ones who think Hunter and I are a thing. Still, I wish she’d stop winking at me, because it gives me feelings.
“Um, so Yamilet . . .” Hunter wrings his hands as he talks. “I like hanging out with you in art. I thought maybe we could hang out, like, outside of art sometime. Maybe you could come watch football practice instead of hanging out here? You know, if you’re bored.” Did I hear that right? He invited me not to watch a football game, but to watch him practice? That counts as hanging out? I swear I don’t understand straight people.
“Um . . . wouldn’t that be kind of boring, too?”
He laughs. “Oh, I mean, did I say practice? I meant homecoming.”
“What?” This is not happening.
“What? Shut up.” He’s red again.
“Did you just tell her to shut up?” Amber snaps.
“No! I meant, me shut up. I was just kidding about homecoming. Unless . . . you want—”
Bo covers up her laugh with a cough. I don’t know how this happened. It’s not like I know Hunter that well, though I guess that never stops guys from making moves.
Actually . . . maybe this is an opportunity for me. If Hunter is my date, no one will think I’m gay. But then again, wouldn’t it be messed up to use him like that? I can’t imagine how pretending to like someone who likes me could end well for anyone involved.
“Sorry, she’s got plans,” Amber cuts in. I must have taken way too long to answer, because she’s giving me a you’re welcome kind of look.
“Right. Yeah, I have plans. I’ll watch the homecoming game, though?”
“Oh, no problem! Sure, sounds awesome.” He bounces back from the rejection real quick with the promise of an audience for the game. In fact, I can almost feel his spirit’s fist pump. “Well, I’ll see you guys later.”
He salutes us and then literally runs away, but I’m hoping that’s just because he’s late to practice. I swear I don’t understand how he’s popular. Catholic school is a trip.
Cesar jogs out to us right when he gets let out and jogs in place by our table, probably trying to get sweaty before Mom gets us. Amber and Bo laugh. I already filled them in on Cesar pretending to be on the football team, so his random exercising is more entertaining than confusing.
“So Bo, I don’t need a ride tomorrow,” Cesar says, still jogging in place.
I cock my head. There’s an art to telepathic communication. Cesar and I are on the same wavelength, so he gets my secret message: huh?
“I got plans.” There’s mischief in his smile as he switches to jumping jacks. Telepathic code for mind your business, Yami, you nosy piece of shit, get your own social life. Or maybe I’m reading into it.
“Okay, cool.” Bo shrugs.
“That reminds me, can I come over after school tomorrow?” Amber asks Bo.
“Sure. You want to come too, Yamilet? I can drop you off at home after. Or the light rail, or wherever.”
“Yes!” I know my answer comes a little fast and I look way too excited, but I don’t care. I’m just excited to be entering friendship level two: hanging out outside of school.
“If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?” I ask my dad in our FaceTime call. We’ve been talking for over an hour now, ever since I got home from school, and I’m not ready to hang up and start filling jewelry orders, so I’ve been asking random questions. I adjust myself so I’m lying sideways on my bed, propping my head up with my fist and holding the phone in front of me.