Mami chews on her lip. “Well . . . I guess you are old enough. But if you’re going to stay here, you need to focus on your project. No working or nothing like that, all right?”
“Really? But what about all our orders?” I ask.
“I handled this before you started helping me, and I’ll handle it now. Focus on your homework. I’ll take care of the rest on my own, con el favor de Dios.”
“Okay, Mami.”
She pulls me back into the hug. I love my mom. I’ll enjoy her hugs for now, before she decides she wants nothing to do with me after hearing Dad’s side of the story. He’ll probably tell her when they visit. A selfish part of me wants to convince her not to go, but I know Cesar would never forgive me if I ruined this for him. Frankly, I wouldn’t forgive myself.
I should probably warn Cesar. If he’s going to be spending time with Dad, he should know how he really feels about people like us. I follow him to his room.
“Can I help you?” he says when he realizes I’m following him.
“I came out to Dad,” I whisper as I walk in and close the door behind me.
“What? What’d he say?”
“Nothing. I texted him after the homecoming party. I still haven’t heard from him.”
“Oh . . .” He rubs his head. “Maybe he never got it?”
“He got it,” I snap.
“How do you know?”
“Because I know! I sent him a video, too. And he hasn’t said shit.”
“Seriously, you can’t convince me not to go, if that’s what you’re trying to do.”
“I just want you to be careful. But why would you even want to go if you know he’s homophobic? If he finds out about you, he won’t treat you any different.” I immediately feel bad for saying it, even though it’s true.
“You’re so dramatic! He probably just didn’t see your text.”
“Then why’d he send you a video and not me? Canela was my duck just as much as yours!” I’m crying again.
“Goddamn it, Yami, not everything is about you!” He hits his fist on his desk.
I step back. Cesar raising his voice at me is enough to make the tears stop, out of surprise more than anything.
“He’s allowed to talk to me first sometimes! Dad sent me a video because he knew I was having a shit day. Can you just let me deal with my own shit for one day? I can’t talk about this with you.” He’s shaking now.
“Well I’m having a shit day too! Why won’t he talk to me?” I know I’m not being fair. It’s not Cesar’s fault that Dad hates me.
“Maybe because you don’t know how to leave people the fuck alone! Not every problem is yours to fix! You’re always in my business. With Jamal, football, and now with Dad . . . Just let me do what I want to do for once! He’s my dad too!”
“What are you talking about? If I didn’t cover for you—”
“I never asked you to cover for me! I never asked you to date Jamal or come to Slayton! You can’t keep me away from Dad just because he doesn’t want to talk to you.”
I hate that I can’t stop crying. And I hate that he’s right.
“He won’t talk to me. . . .” It finally hits me when I say it out loud. Another sob escapes.
Cesar sighs, and his voice softens. “Shit, Yami, he’s probably busy or something.”
I can’t keep talking about Dad, or I won’t be able to stop crying. I just leave.