Home > Pride High _ Book 3 - Yellow(6)

Pride High _ Book 3 - Yellow(6)
Author: Jay Bell

“I’m so sorry,” Mindy said. “If it makes you feel better, I’m always falling for people who aren’t interested. Even one of my best friends—who is a lesbian that I fully support—chose some other girl over me.”

“Are you kidding? You’re all sorts of hot!”

Mindy felt a thrill race up her spine. “You really think so?”

“Yeah!” Keisha stopped walking, her brown eyes mischievous. “You’re the stuff of dreams, girl. The ginger hair that always smells like strawberries, all those kissable freckles on your cute little nose, and the way you nibble your bottom lip when nervous… Smoking hot! Don’t get me started on your body. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Especially if you truly support me.”

“Of course I do!” Mindy said. “You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met. That you actually find me attractive is the best valentine that I’ve ever gotten.” She threw her arms around Keisha’s neck and kissed her on the cheek.

Keisha laughed, and after offering her arm, they continued down the mall corridor. “I’ve been wanting to tell you,” she admitted. “Ever since Anthony and Cameron came out.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I’m not ready to go public yet. And even if I’d known you’d been cool with it, I figured Silvia would need more time before taking that step. I imagined us having a secret relationship and didn’t want to rouse anyone’s suspicions. If people knew the truth about me, they would start to wonder about the woman at my side. Or so I imagined.”

“That’s so considerate,” Mindy said. “You’d make a great girlfriend.”

“Thank you.”

Mindy struggled with a question before deciding to voice it. “Do you drink tap water?”

“Hmm?”

“Tap water,” Mindy repeated.

“Sometimes,” Keisha said. “Why? Is that code for something?”

“No,” Mindy said. “It’s just that… There are a lot of gay people in Pride. I’m pretty sure Ricky and Diego are an item.”

“Diego Gomez? Really?” Keisha’s surprise was replaced by a slow smile. “Wait, you think there’s something in the water?”

“In stories, it’s always the well that’s poisoned,” Mindy said before laughing at herself. “In fact, I’m going to start drinking tap water every day. If it works, you’re taking me to prom.”

Keisha chuckled. “I don’t think Pride has more than its fair share of gay people. We just hide easier than most. The way I see it, everyone is afraid to be their true selves to some degree. If we all got comfortable with that fact, and agreed to simply be who we really are, just imagine how much happier the world would be.”

Mindy liked that idea. It meant the town she lived in was a happier place—a gayer place—than average. And she was happier too, because Mindy was now a little closer to one of the people she loved most.

— — —

Silvia wasn’t sure what to expect when arriving at Omar’s house. He answered the door wearing a black dress shirt, and he smelled like cologne, which was fine. Although she preferred his natural scent, since there was always a hint of sweat, reminding her of carefree summer days. Omar’s dark hair was freshly cut a few inches above his shoulders. His smiling eyes sparkled when he saw the red dress she wore. Silvia had bought it for her quinceañera, or her “sweet fifteen” as Mindy translated it. The dress wasn’t the elaborate ball gown tradition demanded, but for her, wearing a dress at all was a special occasion.

“You look amazing,” Omar breathed. “I mean, you’re always stunning, even without the dress on.”

His eyes became unfocused as he probably imagined exactly that. Silvia shook her head and kissed him back to reality. “You’re very handsome, even with those pants on,” she teased.

“They feel weird,” he said, pulling at the slate-grey fabric. “My mom bought them for me when my aunt got remarried.”

She had never seen him in anything but black jeans and T-shirts—aside from his work uniform—but the fancy clothes lent him an air of maturity that was often absent. Not that she minded. They always had fun together, and she hoped Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be an exception.

“I have so many plans!” Omar said while ushering her inside. “I made a reservation at the Charred Pig, since we both like barbeque. I already went by the movie theater and bought tickets for Groundhog Day. I’m so glad you’re into Harold Ramis movies. Vacation is a comedy classic. Oh, and if the weather stays this nice, we can go for a walk at one of three locations I picked out so you can choose. I’ve got them circled on a map upstairs. But before we go up there—”

“Mamani would like to see me?” Silvia interjected.

Omar laughed. “Yeah. I guess you get the drill by now.”

His grandmother, who was affectionately called Mamani, often sized her up when Silvia came to visit. She always did so as warmly and casually as possible, seeming more concerned about how her grandson conducted himself than with Silvia’s behavior. But it was clear that she wanted to make sure they wouldn’t run off to Vegas or anything crazy.

“She’s chilling downstairs,” Omar said. “Let’s go.”

He led her to the basement, which was one of the few parts of the house Silvia hadn’t seen yet. On the way down the stairs, she noticed a rail near their feet, and when they turned a corner, a chair attached to it at the very bottom.

“Don’t ask,” Omar said. “Everyone wants to ride that thing, but you can’t.” In a whisper, he added, “Not while she’s home at least. Me and Anthony used to compete to get the best speed up and down again. He always won. Probably because he doesn’t weigh as much. I bet you’d be fast too.”

“I’ll try to resist the urge for now,” Silvia murmured as she glanced around.

The basement was fully finished and divided into multiple rooms. They were in a hallway with a pair of doors to either side. Music drifted out from a large open space ahead that Omar led them toward. Silvia saw a bathroom and a tidy bedroom, already certain that her entire family could live down here with room to spare. And in more luxury than she was used to. Was that real wood flooring beneath her feet? The amount of natural daylight was impressive. Omar’s family must have dug the window wells deeper than usual. And why did the music sound so familiar?

They entered a spacious living room, which was filled with the pleasant powdery scent of a grandmother. A large carpet dominated the center of the floor, with a U-shaped couch that was covered in colorful pillows and busy fabrics. An older woman sat in the center while watching a large TV with the volume turned down. Information scrolled along the bottom of the screen as newscasters did a poor job of lip-synching to the record that played nearby.

“Ella Fitzgerald!” Silvia exclaimed in excitement.

“You’ve discovered my secret identity,” Mamani said, getting to her feet with the assistance of a cane. “Please don’t tell anyone. This is the only place I can unwind when I’m not on tour.”

Silvia laughed. “She’s an amazing singer. Are you a fan of jazz?”

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