Pérez and Kat wait until I’ve watched her go back inside, climbed into my truck, and have got my seatbelt on and a playlist going before both their hands come out for high fives and fist bumps.
“Two people, two different genders trying to get your attention,” Kat says, shaking my shoulder. “Like hot Thanos or something, collecting genders. Did Vale give you his number while we were in there?”
“No, Kat.He knows I’m not that kind of guy.”
“What, did you already have to let him down easy last night?”
“I—no. It’s not like that.” But they and Pérez don’t need the full details. How, yes, I did tell him I’m straight and that was a minute before the best kiss of my life. They’d probably sprint back into that store and give Vale a fist bump. Finding out that I’d been thinking about him more than I’d like to admit between leaving that party and getting to this store too? They’d make it into something it’s definitely not.
Even if, yes,ifI was into guys, I’d easily be falling for Vale, and his make-out skills and how he knows every single thing my mouth likes for another person’s mouth to do to it, and his ass that seems to constantly be where my eyes are looking. Even if I might’ve thought about himoncewhen I was rubbing one out. I’m not into guys. We all know I’m straight.
Which is how I’m best off anyway. As much of a catch as Vale would be, then what? To be a guy footballer who likes guys? Who lives in Texas? InSouth Texas? Who’s Mexican? Nah. There’s noway someone like that breaks the glass ceiling and doesn’t end up with at least a few scars. And, at worst, picking a boy leads to potentially having no future in the sport at all.
“Pues, either way, I wouldn’t have been mad about seeing his phone number on your receipt,” Kat says. “Watching you be his ‘gay boy falls for straight guy’ canon event. Which I’m sure you’ve been a few times already and never realized it. But, also, share some of that energy with the rest of us, yeah?”
“For real, Gabo. Like, if she’s got a twin sister; shit, if either of them got a twin sister—older sister or hot mom, even better—I mean, Kat and I can share—”
“Shut up. Let’s get back to the house. I’m trying to do nothing for the rest of the day.”
10
IWANTEDTO DOnothing for the rest of my Sunday. Nap, beat the boys at FIFA, watch whatever anime Pérez and Nguyen are bingeing right now. But then I got a reminder on my phone about a paper for Philosophy that’s due tomorrow, remembered I only have the roughest of a first draft done, and was forced to get my ass back up and my head in the books.
Should have realized that, if anything’s going to ruin some relaxation time on the one day I decide, “It’s cool, I don’t have to do drills today,” of course Philosophy is going to be thatanything. It knows I don’t like it.
Which is how I end up spending hours in the library, most of them with my hands clenching my head, eyes straight at my laptop screen, staring so intensely at notes and a half-assed attempt at five pages of explaining shit I could not care less about they’d probably be burning right now if it weren’t for my blue light glasses. I’ve never been so deeply in this gray space of concentrating so hard I’m about to break my brain but also notable to force any thoughts out, as hard as I’m pushing. Mental constipation, for sure.
Which is why, when a backpack lands on the table with a loud enough thud to shove me out of my headspace, I don’t react like a normal person. No. It scares the shit out of me, I let out a way too loud“¡La puta madre!”and nearly fall out of my chair. And as I’m catching my breath, pulling out my AirPods, coming to terms with the fact that I overreacted and panicked and probably embarrassed myself in front of hopefully only a few people, I realize, “Vale.What … what are you doing here?”
“It’s the library,” he says through a laugh, covering his mouth with a hand carrying some kind of boba tea in a big cup. “You realize I do go to this school, right?”
“I … yeah.Obviously.”
He shakes his head, giving me a smile and glances at the written-down notes and books and laptop I’ve got in front of me. “Sorry I scared you. I was studying upstairs, saw you, and thought maybe you could use a study buddy.”
“Oh, sure. As long as I’m not making you bail on friends or anything?”
“Nah, I’m not. It was just me tonight. And, at this point, I’m more just wasting time until Ihaveto go home. Well, to my cousin’s house. So, looks like I’m all yours if you want me.”
“Definitely,” I say, smiling and pushing the chair next to me out for him. “You wouldn’t be super into philosophy by any chance?”
“Actually, yeah. I would be.”
My head goes back as I let out a “No mames. Really? Are you joking? You don’t sound like you’re being sarcastic.”
His smile gets bigger as he bites the corner of his bottom lip. “We’re actually in class together. I sit behind you, so I’m not taking it personally that you haven’t noticed me. Also, you always walk in looking so miserable to be in that room. You were reallygood, though. Like, with that whole ‘Are we even human?’ conversation on the first day. Right away became one of Coolidge’s favorites.”
“Yeah, but at what cost?”
Vale laughs, sitting sideways on his chair, leaning on the back part. “I’m sure you’ve got a better hang of it than you think you do.”
“Trying to understand what he wants for this assignment says otherwise. Plus, it’s like every time he asks me for my thoughts, he looks like he’s waiting for me to give him more. To realize something that I’m missing, but I can’t figure it out. Like I’m supposed to find a point to this class when there isn’t one.”
“I don’t know, I think philosophy gets into the idea of who we are as people. What makes a person a person.”
“Okay, but that’s why it’s actually kind of bull because we could just talk about that and not have to get wild about what ifs and hypotheticals.”
“Parables and hypotheticals have been around for forever. And I’m not saying that there isn’t a time for getting straight to the point—”
