“How did you know?” Silvia blurted out. She’d been dying to ask the question all night. “When you realized that you’re gay, how could you be sure? Because people experiment. Especially at our age. Don’t they?”
“How did I figure out this isn’t just a phase?” Anthony asked in good humor. “Cameron and I talked about that when we first met. For him, it was realizing that he had the hots for someone’s older brother. But even I’ve found certain women attractive. Especially the tomboys. I guess because they convey more of the masculinity that I’m into.”
In the same way that Anthony had become increasingly attractive to her the more he dolled himself up. “But you don’t consider yourself bi?”
“No,” he said instantly. “For the longest time, I tried to pretend I was straight. Then I fell in love.”
“With Omar?”
Anthony swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. That’s when I knew. I couldn’t deny it anymore. Even though I wanted to. Physical attraction is fickle. My oldest brother told me once how he woke up next to someone who was pushing sixty after he’d gotten really drunk at a bar. That’s all it took. And you hear about straight guys who don’t mind getting a blow job from another guy, even though all they really want is a girlfriend. But no amount of pent-up hormones or booze could change how I feel about Omar. And now Cameron. If I ever fall in love with a girl, I’ll reevaluate. But I don’t see that happening. Even when they’re pretty, the spark isn’t there for me.”
Omar was handsome. Silvia kept searching for that spark, wanting to make him happy. Wanting it to feel right instead of requiring effort. Messing around with him sexually had been fun, although as Anthony had pointed out, that sort of attraction could be found at the bottom of a bottle. But could it be found inside her heart?
CHAPTER 24
December 30th, 1992
Ricky was on high alert as his dad drove them home from the airport. All the warnings about Diego were starting to make him jumpy. Would the house be on fire? Or cleared out, the valuables sold to a pawn shop? Ricky had wanted nothing more than to call home while he was in Seattle, but his grandpa was the kind of person who checked receipts at grocery stores to make sure he wasn’t overcharged. He would definitely notice a call to their house when nobody was supposed to be there. Ricky had phoned his friends instead, only reaching Omar, who didn’t mention anything about his house being on the news after burning down. Although he probably didn’t pay attention to such things, so that wasn’t a guarantee. He was nervous when they reached their street.
“Look at the snowman!” his mother said. “The neighbors must have decorated it.”
Before they had left town, he and Diego had only managed to stack three balls of snow onto each other. Now the snowman had charcoal eyes and a carrot nose, along with some old clothes like the ball cap it wore.
“Aren’t those my ski gloves?” Ken asked as they pulled into the driveway.
“I guess they have the same kind,” Ami replied.
Or maybe they were the exact same ones. Hopefully his parents wouldn’t think to check. Although the idea of Diego decorating a snowman was so endearing that Ricky’s concerns fell to the wayside. Until they opened the door in the garage that led inside. The interior of the house reeked of weed.
“What’s that smell?” Ami asked.
“I don’t know,” Ken replied while lugging a suitcase in, “but for some reason, it reminds me of college.” Then he groaned. “IknewI forgot to turn down the heat! Ah well. If we have any mice, they had a very cozy Christmas.”
Or maybe Diego had made himself comfortable.
“I mean it,” Ami said, still sniffing. “It smells strange in here. Do you think something is wrong with the furnace?”
Ricky put on a big show of sniffing too. “It’s a skunk,” he said. “I saw one in the backyard not long before we left. Maybe it sprayed the door or something.”
“I hope it didn’t get inside,” his mother said.
“I’ll check upstairs.” Ricky hurried through the house, frantically searching for damning evidence along the way. An empty beer can or maybe a car magazine. He didn’t see anything suspicious. Not until he got to his bedroom. The bed was unmade. Fast-food cups cluttered his computer desk. When he checked the trashcan next to it, he found crumpled-up burger wrappers.
No doubt about it. Diego had been staying here. He turned to consider the bed. Then he walked closer to it, wondering if the sheets still smelled like him. Ricky was about to crawl onto the mattress to find out when something grabbed his ankle, causing him to yelp. He looked down and saw a massive brown fist clutching his leg.
“Are you okay?” he heard his mother call from the hall.
“Yeah!” he shouted hurriedly while shaking Diego off. “Just a spider, that’s all. I’ll get rid of it.”
He remained perfectly still until he was sure she wasn’t coming to investigate. Then he crept to the door to lock it. By the time he turned around, Diego had scooted out from under the bed and was standing while adjusting his leather jacket. Ricky placed a finger to his lips before he moved to the clock radio on his nightstand. Once it was playing “Just Another Day” by Jon Secada, he turned to face Diego.
“What are you still doing here?” he asked.
“I thought you weren’t coming back until New Year’s.”
“Oh. I meant that we were coming back in timeforNew Year’s Eve.” He wanted to bound over to Diego and give him a hug. Instead he stood there trying to fight down a smile until he gave up and beamed at him.
The corner of Diego’s mouth twitched, one of his dimples appearing briefly. “Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?” he asked.