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The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School(69)

Author:Sonora Reyes

“I don’t feel bad,” I say, too quickly. Almost defensively.

“Okay, that’s good. You shouldn’t. It’s all on your own timeline.” He stops for a moment to look up at me. There he goes again getting all serious. “And you’re not a coward, okay? I don’t think Cesar meant it like that. You’re smart.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re smart for being guarded. I was stupid to come out.”

I immediately feel bad for snapping at him. Here I am, sulking about the possibility of getting kicked out, while Jamal is living it.

“I’m so sorry. . . .” I don’t know how else to comfort him. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not that smart. I came out to my dad.”

“How’d he take it?”

“He still hasn’t responded . . . if he tells my mom, I might get kicked out, too.”

“Nah, let me stop you there. I don’t know your dad, but your mom is way too nice. She wouldn’t do that to you.”

Except Jamal doesn’t know that.

Before I can say anything else, Cesar squishes himself between us.

“Food’s ready,” he says, grinning proudly.

“That’s my boy. I’m watching you two!” My mom points two fingers at her eyes, and then at me and Jamal. It’s funny how completely wrong she is.

After dinner, Cesar reluctantly agrees to help me since Jamal wants to, and with the three of us working, I don’t even have to stay up late to meet my productivity goal before school tomorrow.

On Monday, my luck seems to continue. We have a half day of classes to celebrate the sacrament of Confession. Once a year, almost the entire student body has to confess their sins to the priest. While some kids opt out, they still have to go to the assembly. Those kids get to sit in the back and don’t actually have to do anything. My mom would die of a heart attack if she realized we opted out, so Cesar and I participate. The upperclassmen are the last to go to church, so we had shorter classes through the morning before getting let out.

My teeth chatter as I walk to the chapel, and I wish I’d gone for the pants instead of the skirt this morning. It’s finally starting to get cold. Well, cold for the desert. It’s the beginning of December and the leaves are barely starting to change colors. I’m always complaining about the heat, but I was definitely not built for cold weather. Hunter finds me right after class as everyone walks to the chapel and jogs over to me.

“Hey, Yamilet!” I pretend I don’t hear and keep walking. He catches up to me, like I’m sure what happened at the party will catch up to me. I’ve been successfully avoiding him for weeks now. But I didn’t see him coming this time.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asks.

“No.” Lie. Obviously.

“Okay, good. Well . . . um . . . I wanted to talk about . . . um . . .” He throws an arm around my shoulder and starts whispering, “You know, what happened at the homecoming party . . .”

I squint at him.

“I know I promised you I wouldn’t say anything, but—”

“Who did you tell?” I stop walking and shrug his arm off my shoulder. I knew I couldn’t trust Hunter.

“No one! I was just gonna say, you know one of my secrets, too. And . . . I would really appreciate it if you also didn’t tell.”

“What?” My memory of that night is a little blurry.

“That I’m a . . . you know.” He whispers the last word. “Virgin.”

“Oh!” A grin pulls at my lips. He won’t tell anyone about me because I have leverage on him. Not that I would ever tell anyone, but the fact that he thinks I might calms my nerves. It means I’m safe, at least from Hunter. I grab his arm and pull it back over my shoulder. I could use the extra warmth. “Yeah, I got you.”

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