“SANTA MIER—” A WAVEof pain, stinging like my arm is being ripped from my body, goes through my entire torso when I hear that voice—Barrera’s voice. We’re rushing, turning, I’m pulling out of Vale, pain, reaching for a colcha, another wave of pain, throwing the colcha at Vale, more pain.
“No. No, no, no.”
“Gabi—”
“Stay here,” I tell Vale, panic and frustration heavy in my voice. “Please. Whatever you do, don’t come out until he’s gone.”
I grab my underwear, rushing to put it on with one hand while heading for the door, shutting it behind me. Barrera’s there, waiting for me, leaning against the wall. His arms are crossed, his face is scrunched; he looks both confused and really angry.
“Bar—”
“Tell me I didn’t see what I think I saw in there.” His eyes come up to look me in the face and his voice is straight,matter-of-fact, and, yeah, angry. “Or maybe you’re finally done fucking lying to me now that I walked in on you. I—¿Eres joto?”
“Barrera, escuchame—”
“Responde la pregunta, cabrón.”
“Why does it matter?”
He takes in a breath and then lets out a loud sigh, turning to look away from me for a second, like he’s deep in thought and doesn’t want me to figure out what’s going on in his head. And when he looks back at me, it’s not as someone who’s decided that this doesn’t matter.
“I knew it. I fucking knew it.” The words come out almost like a laugh. He smiles, but there’s no friendliness in it. His hands come up to his head, brushing through his hair before making fists. “And I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I really did. But I knew I saw you making out with him at that ABC party.”
Shit.Every muscle in my body goes tight. I want to throw up but I also don’t want to take my eyes off Barrera.
“I knew the way you looked at him at games was some pinche jotería happening.On my pitch. On my team.I should’ve let that guy at you. The one who knew exactly what you are too. I should’ve fucking helped him. I knew, at some point, you were going to make this my problem, and I could’ve had him take care of it before we got here and I had to see it.”
“Barrera—”
“No one is going to stick up for you!” he yells, his voice booming all the way down the stairs. “I sure as shit won’t. You told me to my face that you weren’t fucking around like this, and then you let me find you balls deep in him? You just disrespect me like that?”
“I wasn’t trying to—”
“We’re done with playing nice and stupid! I’m done giving you the benefit of the doubt when I knew someday I’d find youexactly like I did. And when I saw him out there in the parking lot and you leaving with him instead of your parents, there was no way I could keep acting ignorant, as much as I wanted to believe anything else. I thought, I told this boy. I’ve told him all year to what?”
“To do—”
“To do what I tell you!” His voice is even louder as his fist hits the wall. “To work with me. To focus on the game and what you need to do to get where you want to go. I thought, he’ll do that. He won’t make this difficult for us. He’s one of us.”
“Why does it have to be difficult?”
“Stop being stupid, Piña. I … You’re smarter than that. You aren’t some mediocre white boy on some mediocre white team with their Pride flags and kombucha and parents who love drag queens. They play by different rules than you. You don’t get that. Nuestra gente, nos padres, nos tíos, nos primos, none of them are going to want their kid wearing a kit with the name of a maricón on the back of it. That just gets them called a maricón too, ¿túsabes?”
I hate that he’s telling me everything I was afraid of most. Maybe this whole time it was that obvious: I was never going to be good enough.
“You could have a shutout that lasts all four years you’re on this team, but guess what? All anyone will know about you is that you’re a culero, and none of them are going to put up with that gay shit. So, dígame, Piña. ¿Eres joto?”
“I … I’m bi.”
He stares at me for whole seconds that feel like hours before letting out a laugh. And, swear, he starts smiling. “Pues, at least that’s easier then.”
“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
“I mean, when I think of the options I’m going to give you, there’s got to be one you can—hopefully—live with.”
As scared as I am right now, as cornered as I feel, there’s an equal amount of anger in me too. I’m angry about how helpless I am here. About how Barrera got exactly what he wanted. About how I was so close to doing this my way, and I’m getting that taken from me.
About how, this whole time we were just playing each other, and, in the end, he got the jump on me.
