“Thanks,” I say, stifling a laugh. It’s a little cute how quick he got here just to open the door when I could have opened it myself. I think he’s trying to make a good impression.
“Are we supposed to, like, hold hands or something?” Jamal fidgets with his pockets as we walk into the diner and down the tiled floor to a table in the corner.
“No, probably just around my mom.”
“Okay, sorry, that was a stupid question.” He’s wringing his hands on the table now.
“Hey, chill. I’m not my mom. You don’t have to impress me or anything. Cesar trusts you, so I know you’re good people.”
“Thanks,” he says, and pulls his hands under the table. I think he’s still nervous, though.
“Sooo . . . I guess we’re supposed to get to know each other.” I try to come up with the kinds of things a girlfriend should know about her boyfriend. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Two sisters. They’re five and three. And a stepbrother. He’s older, like, in his twenties, I think.”
“Cool. You probably know everything about my family already, because of Cesar.”
“Not everything.”
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
“Well . . . I don’t want you to tell me anything he wouldn’t tell me. But he doesn’t talk about your dad much, just says you’re the favorite.”
“Oh, poor Cesar, there’s one person who likes me as much as him. I’m definitely not the favorite.” I don’t know why I get so defensive. I guess I am closer to Dad than Cesar, but Cesar’s everyone’s favorite. Is it so bad for me to be Dad’s? “Sorry, I don’t know why I snapped at you.”
Then Jamal looks so deeply into my eyes I feel like he knows all my secrets. “I know it’s hard living under someone else’s shadow. But you’re your own person, too, with your own talents and passions. I’m glad you have someone like your dad to see that in you.” His eyes don’t leave mine the whole time he talks, so I cave and look down.
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I’m just surprised at how seriously he’s taking me. I was just venting. It’s not like I was expecting him to get all deep about it. It makes me wonder how he and Cesar work out, since Cesar is the opposite of serious. I guess they probably balance each other out in that way.
“If it makes you feel better, I’m barely anyone’s favorite either. Except maybe Cesar’s.” He gives me a sad little smile.
“Why not?” I ask.
“I guess I don’t fit into their box. I’m not exactly the most masculine guy. My stepdad says I’m an embarrassment.” He’s looking down, not touching his food.
“Do they know about Cesar?” I ask.
“They will soon. I’m gonna come out, I just don’t know when’s the right time.”
“You’re not scared to tell them?”
“I’m scared either way. Might as well get it over with,” he says.
“Well, good luck. I hope—oh my God . . .” I better be seeing things, or I’ll kill my mom. And Cesar. Because if my eyes are correct, they’re both here spying on us.
“What?” Jamal asks.
“Don’t look,” I say before he has a chance to turn around. “Cesar and my mom are here.”
I get out my phone to virtually chew Cesar out, but it looks like he tried to warn me while we were on our way.
“Okay, so now should we hold hands?” Jamal asks. I swear he started sweating as soon as I mentioned my mom.