I can’t tell if this is a generic “troubled teen” pep talk or if he’s trying to insinuate something. Does he know I’m gay? He can’t know. Does he suspect it? Am I overthinking it?
“Thank you” is all I can say. He smiles and nods at my suitcase.
“So hey, if you still want to leave, you can. But I’d love for you to stay for breakfast. I was about to make your favorite.”
“How do you know what my favorite breakfast is?”
“Because you’re about to tell me.” He smiles. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
“Chorizo burritos.” I don’t know why talking about my favorite breakfast food makes me tear up.
“You got it. If you still want to leave after I make you some bomb chorizo burritos, go ahead. But not without a proper goodbye, all right?”
“Okay. Thanks, Mr. Taylor.” I wipe my eyes.
“Rick.” He pulls me into another hug. “Now go get some sleep. It’s too early for crying. Save that for the happy tears when you’re eating the best chorizo burritos of your life.”
I laugh. I doubt he can top my mom’s. He gives me a pat on the back before sending me back upstairs.
Rick is a good cook. He’s a great cook. But his burritos don’t taste like the ones I’m used to. Don’t get me wrong: they’re amazing. They might even be up there with my mom’s when it comes to the cooking itself. But I didn’t just want a good chorizo burrito. I wanted my mom’s cooking. I wanted my mom. Really, I want Cesar, too. And my dad. I want all of them, together.
It makes me feel like shit for not being grateful about the chorizo burritos I’m eating now. I eat them like they’re exactly what I need. I smile and say thank you and have seconds. But it’s not the same.
We gather around the tree for “presents.” Which is basically all of us going around in a circle brainstorming things we can do together. Instead of giving gifts, the idea is to spend the day doing things we all want to do. The activities can take place anytime from today until New Year’s. It’s the first Christmas I’ve ever had that no one dragged me to church. It feels weird, but in a good way.
Bo’s mom wants to watch a family movie at the house, which makes me nervous because I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be included, since she said “family” movie. Rick wants to go ice blocking, which I’ve only done once before when I was little. Bo and I both take longer to decide what we want to do.
“Maybe we can get culture passes at the library?” I ask. It’s the only free thing that comes to mind. The library offers free “culture passes” for local events.
“That sounds like a great idea! I’ll look up what they have available in the next few days.” Bo’s mom pulls out her phone and types away.
“For my present, can we eat at C-Fu?” Bo asks.
“Of course!” her dad responds. I’ve never been there, but from what I heard, it’s a fancy Chinese restaurant, and Bo’s favorite.
“I’m looking at the culture passes now,” Bo’s mom says as she scrolls on her phone. “Looks like we can go to the science center, the Japanese friendship garden, and, oh! This looks fun! There’s a ballet, oh, gosh, I’m going to butcher the pronunciation here, ballet folclórico festival on the twenty-eighth! Which do you want to go to, Yamilet?”
It’s not a hard choice, but I’m hesitant to ask.
“Can we go to the baile folklórico show?” I barely hear my own voice. Since being at Slayton, I’ve been feeling a little culturally separated, not to mention super homesick right now. Going to a Mexican baile performance sounds like the perfect Band-Aid. Plus, I kind of want to share a little bit of who I am with Bo and her family. It’s my way of opening up to them.