Wait.
Did I see that right? They kissed!
I may have seriously misjudged this situation. New diagnosis: GAYYYYYY!!!!
It takes every ounce of willpower in my soul not to shout that shit out loud. My brother! And Jamal! For a second, I feel like that meme of the white lady with all the math equations behind her. Is Jamal the person Cesar has been up late talking to every night? God, I hate that I of all people assumed it was always a girl. But obviously I’m not upset about this discovery. I know I shouldn’t be this excited, but goddamn I cannot contain myself right now.
I hear a car door shut in the carport outside the laundry room just before the door opens. I turn around so fast I almost fall back against the screen door I was about to open.
I can’t let Mom see them.
“Mami!” I rush over to the laundry room and give her a hug, putting all the lingering giddiness into my “distract Mom” performance.
“I didn’t bring you no food.” She laughs.
“Dang, Mom, can’t I just love you?” I say, leaning to the side when she tries to sidestep me.
She gives me a look, then walks right past me. This is why I could never actually be a secret agent.
I run in front of her and stand on the opposite end of the screen door, so she doesn’t see Jamal. She does, however, see his backpack.
“Yamilet. Who is in my house?”
“Mom, don’t be mad—” The screen door opens, and Cesar and Jamal walk in. Cesar freezes when he sees Mom. Both of them look like their lives are flashing before their eyes. She didn’t see anything, though. All she knows is there’s a stranger in her house. A much easier problem to solve.
“Uhhhh . . .” It sounds like Cesar’s brain broke. Real nice.
“Mom, I, um, I want you to meet my boyfriend!” I step between Jamal and Cesar and hold Jamal’s hand. It’s clammy and gross, but I guess I’ll forgive him for being sweaty, considering my mom is about to murder him. “Don’t worry, Mom. Cesar was just giving him the protective-brother talk, so he’s got you covered on the whole ‘scaring my boyfriend to death’ thing.”
Jamal lets go of my hand and wipes his palms on his pants. Then he reaches out a hand to my mom. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Flores. I’m Jamal.”
She doesn’t take his hand, instead crossing her arms over her chest. Jamal waits a moment before awkwardly clearing his throat and putting his hand down.
“Jamal.” She nods. “I’ll give you a pass, since Yamilet clearly hasn’t taught you the rules yet.” The venom in her voice is directed at me, not him.
“Thank you, Mrs. Flores.” His voice is so soft I can barely hear him. He looks down and rubs the back of his neck.
“Rule number one: no boys allowed when I’m not home.”
“Yes, Mrs. Flores.” He swallows. “Sorry, Mrs. Flores.”
“Next time you come into my home, I expect you to do it right.” She points at the door, telling him to leave.
“Yes, ma’am.” He grabs his backpack and rushes out the door. I’m surprised he didn’t shit himself. I almost shit myself. Mom can be scary when she wants to be.
As soon as the door is closed, she laughs. “Oh, I like him!”
Cue record scratch.
“Really?” Cesar and I say at the same time.
“Yes, Mrs. Flores, thank you, Mrs. Flores. I could get used to that!”
Cesar looks like he’s holding his breath.
“What, Cesar, you don’t like your sister’s boyfriend Steve Urkel?” She has this ugly-ass hyena cackle whenever she tries to clown on someone. The laugh is always funnier than the joke. But it’s contagious, so I can’t help but join in against my will. Cesar doesn’t.