“I can’t, I’m driving!” I shove his shoulder. Still, I let him drag me to the kitchen, where we run into Hunter.
“AYYYEE!” Hunter shouts, raising a glass at us and almost spilling it. Then he gives Cesar his usual enthusiastic dap.
“What up, what up,” Cesar murmurs while pouring himself a shot.
Hunter nods to me. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to make it, since you couldn’t come to the dance.”
“I had plans, but I’m free now.” I give him my nicest smile. I hope he’s not mad at me for not going to the dance with him.
“Well, I’m glad you could make it.” He smiles back and touches my arm. I think we’re flirting. Or at least, he is.
Hunter hands me a shot glass, and I wave it away.
“I’m the designated driver, unfortunately.”
“If you want to drink, you guys can hang out here until you’re sober. Stay the night if you have to. You won’t be the only ones.”
Cesar raises his eyebrows at me like Hunter offered us his parents’ fortune, but I’m nervous. The only time I ever had alcohol was at Bianca’s birthday party last year. I didn’t even drink when I went to a party party freshman year. But it’s hard to say no now, as long as Cesar’s staying the night, too. It’s a special occasion. Of the I said something so stupid to Bo, I need to drink to stop thinking about it variety. Real healthy, I know.
I send my mom a quick text.
Yami: staying the night at Bo’s.
I ignore how the lie makes me feel guilty for more reasons than one. Hunter holds a shot glass of Vodka to my face, and I stick my tongue in it to see how bad it tastes. It makes me gag.
He laughs. “It tastes like shit. That’s why you drink it fast. Here.” He tilts my chin up. It feels like one of those really forced Heterosexual Moments in every movie ever, where a guy makes unnecessary physical contact while teaching a girl something extremely simple.
And with that, I have an idea.
I’ll try out being straight for tonight. Commit to the lie I told Bo, or try to. If I can prove I’m straight, I won’t have to shout about it like an asshole. Secret Agent Yami on a mission.
I let Hunter tilt my head back, and he hands me the shot glass. He plugs my nose. I don’t know if it’s supposed to be romantic or whatever, but it’s fucking weird.
“Okay, now just chug it like that.”
I swallow the guilt down with the alcohol. I don’t think plugging my nose even helped, because whatever he gave me was disgusting. Then he hands me a lemon, and I bite into it. He pours me a full drink in a red cup this time.
“This one will taste good, I promise.” I take a sip, and he’s right. It tastes like vanilla Coke.
“Ooh, teach me now!” Cesar claps his hands and flutters his lashes, all dramatic. It finally reminds Hunter I’m not the only one in the kitchen with him, so I’m grateful. Hunter blushes, then pours Cesar a drink, and we all clink our red cups.
I burp. Hunter burps back at me. How romantic.
I already feel a little lighter. Alcohol makes pretending to be straight a little less intimidating. I take a big swig of my drink before I grab Hunter’s hand and pull him over to the living room, aka dance floor. I’m not a dancer or anything, but in my family, if you don’t have rhythm, you learn real quick or you get clowned on. Some of my tíos are allowed to not know how to dance, if they’re drunk enough. They’d fit right in with this crowd.
Hunter puts his hands on my hips and rests his head on my shoulder, as if we know each other like that. I almost feel bad for dancing with another guy while I have a “boyfriend,” but Jamal isn’t here, and I need to practice being straight with someone. But Hunter isn’t moving on beat with the music, so it’s hard for me to work with him. And a minute in, I’m already bored. He must be catching on that I’m not feeling it, because he shouts into my ear over the music.