“Maybe he saw the same thing in me. Someone who’s willing to fight ten times harder than anyone else to show that I belong.”
“That’s probably exactly right, kid. For every good and bad reason, that’s exactly right. You just—ifhegets to be a problem, you let me know. It’s my job to keep this team under control. He might be the captain, butI’mthe coach.”
I can (mostly) confidently say that we’re still fine. As long as we stay out of each other’s business off the pitch, we’ll stay fine.
For my sake, I need him to stay out of my business.
“And, if it’s any consolation, every year this team plays better and, more than that, the quality of the men who make up this squad gets better. You and your class, y’all are good boys. Keep sticking together, keep that brotherhood. I don’t think I’ll have anything to worry about with y’all in a couple years.”
“We’re trying, Coach.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear.”
24
“THE MAN OF THEnight!” Ahmed yells when he sees me coming into the backyard. He’s standing with Nguyen and a whole half of my team, taking turns making shots into a net that’s been up since I was little, looking rough now after a few hurricanes but still doing its job. Barrera looks in my direction and fully glares at Vale walking in beside me, and, swear, if he says anything, I’ll fight him right here in my backyard.
Pops’s concentration goes from taking care of the asada and who knows what else he’s got going on over at his pit to the guys, watching each of their attempts, giving a cheer and a compliment anytime he’s extra impressed at their form or shaking his head and joining in on dogging on one of them whenever they miss what should be an easy goal for a college player. He and one of the junior forwards high five and clank their Modelos after one of them says something that’s got both of them cackling like they just invented jokes. My squad couldn’t have been here for longer than half an hour and already Pops is one of the guys.
I turn to Vale, giving him a nervous, all-lip smile. His hand goes out just enough to tap the back of mine with his fingers, and too quickly for anyone to have caught him.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Definitely.”
I take a deep breath and huff it out while we keep going, heading for Pops. And the closer we get to him, the more uneasy I feel. Part of me just wants to go back to the townhome. To my room, only the two of us. As much as I tried to act all nonchalant about inviting Vale to this, now that we’re here, I’m struggling. I’mthis closeto being real chalant, actually.
I’m still thinking about what we were up to before this, and now I have to pretend like there’s absolutely nothing going on between us. Like he hasn’t made me come twice within the last few hours or I didn’t give him an eating him out–hand job combo right when I got back from the podcast recording. As if I didn’t just call him my boyfriend in my truck as we sat in the driveway for a second so I could find my calm. And now I’ve got to be all, “Hey Pops, this is Vale. He’s uh … he’s—”
“We’re friends,” Vale says for me, shaking Pops’s hand, looking like nothing about those words are only a very small part of the truth. “Well, started out as his philosophy tutor. Or, philosophy study buddy. But I had to wrangle him into a friendship so I can keep him around when I need someone to help me get through College Algebra next semester.”
“Oh,that’s you. Mi’jo—” Pops fully goes in for a hug. And when Vale looks back at me allwhat is going on?I have to bite down on my lip to keep from laughing. “I’m glad he invited you. Gabi should’ve told us you were coming, his mama has been wanting to cook you something. She’s going to ask you what your favorite kind of cake is, so have an answer for her, yeah? He was complaining so much about that class. Muy chillón. Gracias a Dios for you, carnal.”
“I wasn’t that bad,” I groan, eyeing Vale, who’s now trying not to laugh. “Stop making up lies.”
“Pues, I’d call him after he got out of practice and he’d be all, ‘I have to do this stupid paper,’ ‘This class doesn’t even matter,’ ‘None of this makes sense, Pops,’ ” he tells Vale, doing this fake crying voice that doesn’t sound like me at all. “After a couple weeks he stopped complaining, and I was curious, but I wasn’t going to say anything. And then he said he got some help and that this boy, un vato chido—”
“I didn’t call youvato,” I tell Vale. Pops can dog on me about complaining about Philosophy class. That’s fine. Vale knows I do that. But I won’t stand here and be accused of talking like one of the guys from his nineties Chicano movies.
“But you did tell your dad you think I’m cool?”
Damn, the way he says it, the way he smiles and his eyes seem to glimmer at me, makes me want to kiss him. “I … maybe.” And, actually. “Ya, Pops. Stop making me look bad. I’m going to show him around real quick.”
“Claro, mi’jo. Van. Meat will be ready soon. Mucho gusto, Vale. I’m happy Gabi has you. Make sure he keeps his head in the books, alright, chido? These other boys are all about parties and girls. And I want that for him too, túsabes, always been good with the girls myself. Too good, really. It’s in our genes. Pero have fun. But study too.”
I completely stop breathing. If Pops wasn’t already through half a box of Modelo, he might see the way the browns of my eyes turn into hearts when he saysI’m happy Gabi has youand then immediately go into a panic at that next half, watching Vale take a second before he tells him, “I will. Es un placer.”
On the way through the kitchen, I introduce Vale to my mom. Well, he stands close by while my mom attacks my cheeks with kisses, pulling my head down so she can reach me. “Estoy orgulloso deél también,” he says when she starts talking aboutme and football and how “Un día jugará para El Tri.” And, shit, if that doesn’t make me blush.
And then she’s got to spend a solid ten minutes asking Vale about his family, where he’s from, talking about the few times she’s been to San Antonio and how when I was little they tried to take me on one of those Riverwalk boats but I started crying and screaming because, for some reason, I was great at a beach but “God forbid he gets on a boat in a little river.” The way he’s laughing and smirking at me only encourages Mom to remember more stories that Vale has to hear about, that Iknowhe’s going to bring up later, until we finally get her permission to give him the tour.
“This is such a boy room,” Vale says as he walks in, a step in front of me, his head slowly turning as he takes it all in.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Navy sheets.” He turns to me, that smirk back on his face. “A guy with navy sheets is factually a card-carrying member of the streets. Like, if I’d seen this when I first met you, I would’ve thought, ‘Yep, this boy is hetero. Probably has Peso Pluma near the top of his Spotify Wrapped. And, actually, this boy might be a tóxico. Give up now.’ ”
My head tilts as I sit on my bed, staring at him. “But what I’ve got back at my other room told you something different?”
