Page 47 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“Sorry.” Diego loosened his grip, so it was merely a hug, but one that felt incredibly good as Ricky snuggled up against him.
He was aware that people could see them, but he also didn’t care. An entire SWAT team could be sent in to pry them apart and it wouldn’t be enough. They wouldn’t quit. No matter what. He knew that now. His parents had only made their love stronger. But there were more subtle questions that remained.
Ricky took a step back to ask, “What are we going to do?”
Diego shrugged, a wry grin on his face. “Ever snuck out before?”
“No. Not really.” Ricky thought about it. “But I kind of like the idea.”
Diego glanced around. “Have you ever skipped school?”
Ricky made a face. “I’m already grounded.”
“Good. That means you’ve got nothing to lose.”
Ricky laughed. “It means I don’t want to be grounded for two months instead of one.”
“All right. We’ll lay low. For now.” Diego returned to his car to park it properly. When he got back out again, he was his usual self, although it was impossible to forget how intense he had become.
“You really like me, huh?” Ricky said as they walked toward the school.
“Just a little,” Diego said dryly.
“Good.” Ricky leaned against him briefly. “I like you too.”
CHAPTER 8
February 23rd, 1993
Mindy was beginning to panic. Her theater group had chosenWest Side Storyas their next play, although she certainly hadn’t voted for it. The production seemed way too complex with all its songs and dancing. She wouldn’t have chosen a musical at all, if it wasn’t a yearly tradition. Casting was already proving to be a nightmare, since anyone who couldn’t sing or dance was automatically disqualified.
From the talent pool of their theater group, only Whitney could sing well enough to carry the role of Maria. But she didn’t look Puerto Rican. Mindy had suggested dyeing her platinum-blond hair black and tossing her into a tanning bed, until Keisha pointed out that it would be one step away from blackface. So the lead roles were currently vacant. And judging from how auditions were shaping up, they wouldn’t have enough dancers either.
"Like this?" said a goofy-looking guy on stage before he began swinging his arms back and forth.
“Can you do something with your feet?” Keisha called from the auditorium seat next to hers.
“Sure!” The guy began kicking like he was in a chorus line.
Keisha hit a button on the boombox to stop the music. “Thank you,” she said. “Check one of the bulletin boards on Friday to see if you got a role.”
“I can sing too!” the guy said before launching into a toneless version of the Beach Boys’ “Kokomo.”
“Please make it stop,” Keisha whispered.
Mindy snorted and covered her mouth as the guy bowed and proudly left the stage.
“The boy has confidence,” Keisha said while shaking her head. “We’ve gotta give him that.” She looked up and down the aisle. “Well?”
Everyone shook their heads, including their teacher, Ms. Deville.
“Next up,” Mindy said, checking her list before raising her voice. “Faith Song.”
A girl with a long dark ponytail walked onto stage, followed by a carbon copy whose shorter hair hung loose.
“We’d like to audition together,” said one of them. “I’m Hope.”
“I’m Faith,” said the other. “Start the music.”
