“Really?” I look at Bo, not her parents. It’s her I want to make sure is cool with this. I’ve never stayed at anyone’s house for more than a weekend, and if she still has a girlfriend, things might be a little weird. I should probably ask about that at some point, but I’m afraid I’d sound gay about it. An unreadable expression flashes across Bo’s face, and her cheeks flush before she smiles.
“Of course!” both her parents answer. I raise my eyebrows at Bo, urging an answer out of her. I would understand if she didn’t want me at her house for two weeks straight.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun!” she says, smiling again.
“Great! My mom will probably love that idea. She was worried about leaving me by myself.” It does sound like a step up from spending the break wallowing in self-pity.
Taking Cesar and my mom to the airport is harder than I expected. I haven’t been talking to Cesar much lately, which isn’t fair. The only reason I’m not talking to him is because he’s not talking to me. If he would just apologize, I’d forgive him in an instant. I know it’s petty to hold a grudge, but what am I supposed to do? If I’m a petty bitch, so is Cesar. He didn’t even cave to make some kind of joke about how I’m staying with Bo. I’m not good with conflict, but it’s been too long to turn back now. Usually we get over our fights within a day. But there’s something different about this one, and I don’t know what it is. I hate that.
When she’s not looking, I slip my mom’s phone into her bag so she can find it later. There’s no point in keeping it from her now if she’s actually going to see Dad in person. She gives me the biggest hug I’ve gotten since probably ever. She’s crying, and I feel nothing. I can’t feel anything right now, or I’ll break down. Mom looks at us expectantly, so Cesar gives me a half-assed side hug, and I return it. I don’t cry until I turn around.
I walk straight to the parking lot and don’t look back.
16
Thou Shalt Not Foster Petty Grudges
I’m glad for Bo’s family to keep me from getting too far in my feelings, but maybe spending break with my crush was not the best idea. What if all this time alone with Bo is going to have me doing something very Yami-like, like outing myself . . . again. I could have stayed home, but I can’t go back now, so here I am with Bo. Perfect Bo, who I avoid eye contact with because I can’t look at her without getting lost. This should be interesting.
While they’re gone, Mami sends me video updates on Marco Polo. Cesar is sometimes in them, but as a background voice. If she asks him to say hi, he waves, but doesn’t say much. Dad isn’t in the videos. If he told Mom why he doesn’t want to talk to me, then she seems to be cool about the gay thing. But I’m guessing he hasn’t. I’m not going to bring it up. If I do, and he really didn’t tell her, then I’m screwed. If he did tell her and I bring it up, then what’s the benefit of that? Just knowing? Nah, I don’t need to know. I’m good, right here in the dark.
Half the time Mom sends videos, she’s in the middle of visiting with Dad’s family, so the calls are usually pretty short. I stare at the app for a while after Mom’s video is over. It’s not that I’m expecting anything to happen. Actually, I know nothing is going to happen, which is why I’m staring at it. I want to make something happen. I think I’m ready to talk to him. Not to my dad. I won’t be ready to talk to my dad until he’s ready to talk to me. If he ever is.
I start a video for Cesar.
“Hey . . . hi. We haven’t talked in a while. I miss you. . . .” I’m rambling, but I don’t want to stop talking, because I haven’t talked to him in so long, and this is the closest I’ve been able to get to it. “How’s Chiapas?” I pause as if waiting for an answer. “I don’t know if you’re still mad at me. But I’m not mad anymore. Actually, I was never mad. I just suck at human communication. I’ll own that. Anyways, talk to me, if you don’t hate me, please. Bye . . .” I hang up before saying the I love you part.