“Coach J wants to give the team a pep talk, so David said not to wait for him,” Cesar says. Amber looks disappointed, but Bo gives me a wink.
“Guess we should head home, then,” Bo says, linking arms with Amber and leading her toward the parking lot. Cesar and I follow.
Before we get past the food stand, a line of football players blocks our way, Hunter among them. They start lifting up their jerseys one by one, revealing the letters H-O-M-E-C-O-M-I-N-G-? underneath. Then they split down the middle and David walks to Amber with a bouquet of flowers.
Amber has a huge dopey smile on, and she’s flapping her hands near her face.
“It took you freaking long enough!!” she shouts, then they hug. I guess that’s a yes?
I knew David was going to ask her, and I’m happy, but it’s just now hitting me that it means Bo and I will be ditching the dance together, just the two of us. The idea of hanging out one-on-one with Bo makes my stomach feel all tight.
Everyone around us cheers for David and Amber, and I let out a sigh of relief. The hardest part is over.
Cesar is going to homecoming with his football friends while I hang out with Bo, but I promised him I’d go with him to the after-party. It’s sweet that Jamal trusts Cesar to party without him. I mean, it should be a given when you’re in a relationship to trust your partner, but I don’t know a lot of people who do. Maybe one day we’ll mature and stop feeling jealousy, but for now, Cesar and Jamal are ahead of the curve.
Bo’s ugly-cute dogs jump on me as soon as she opens the door, and they follow us upstairs. Bo and Amber have a tradition of watching horror movies with one-star ratings instead of going to dances. Even with low ratings, I get scared easily. If there’s blood or monsters or demons or serial killers, it’s scary. Period. I find myself staring at Bo’s hand, waiting for her to get scared too and reach for mine.
To my disappointment, she doesn’t. I guess it’s not “scary” enough for Bo to want to grab my hand for comfort. And I’m not about to make that move. I’d rather Bo not think I’m as squeamish as I am. Without Bo’s hand, I have to get creative to keep from pissing my pants at every low-budget jump scare. I imagine all the bone cracks and flesh-cutting are sound effects made by biting into carrots and crunching lettuce. It’s a sort of comforting thought. I try to distract myself by thinking about how I’ll convince Bo to come to the party. I’m happy to get my mind off the movie, so I bring it up the minute the credits roll.
“I got invited to the after-party,” I say, trying to sound extra casual.
“Are you gonna go?” Bo asks through a mouthful of popcorn.
“Yeah. You should come, too! They said I could bring someone. . . .” I don’t know if it sounds like I’m asking her to come as my date. It feels like it does, but I don’t mean for it to sound like that.
“Amber invited me, too. But I don’t really want to go. Besides, I’m pretty sure they meant a boy.”
“They didn’t specify gender. Come on, it’ll be fun!”
“It’s not my crowd.” Bo sinks into the couch. I frown. It’s my shitty version of a puppy face. She’s unaffected. I can’t blame her, since there’s a good chance Jenna will be there. And there’s no way I’d go to a party Bianca might be at.
“Okay, well, if you change your mind, it’d be awesome if you came.”
Bo sits up and smizes at me. Maybe she’s a little affected. “Why do you want me to come so bad?” She leans toward me. It’s a subtle lean, barely an inch, but I notice it.
Because I like hanging out with you. Because you’ll make me feel more comfortable. Because you can make any situation more fun. Because I think you’re pretty, and cool, and fun to be around. Because I’m gay, and I think I might like you.