Page 53 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
Nick just glares at me while they all walk past. I’m sure he’s fantasizing about the revenge he’ll surely get once he’s healed, but it looks like I’m safe for now. It isn’t until they’re out of earshot that I turn back to Bianca for clarification.
My first instinct is to let go of her hand and tell her what happened at the party was a mistake and that we’re definitelynottogether, but when I really think about it, this is kind of perfect.
“Boyfriend?” I ask, in case she’s being serious.
Bianca glances over at Nick down the hall, then her voice is a little quieter. “Sorry, I just wanted Nick to—”
“I don’t mind,” I say automatically. She raises an eyebrow, and Chachi and Stefani give each other a look like my awkward comment is some kind of Hallmark movie gesture. “I mean, I can be your boyfriend, if you want.”
Bianca smiles, but I can’t tell if she thinks I’m being cute or if she’s trying not to laugh at me. “Are you asking me out?”
“It makes sense, right?” I say without thinking twice. Me and Bianca would be a mutually beneficial relationship. She gets to make Nick jealous, and I get to piss off everyone I care about enough that they’ll never fuck with me again.
Bianca chews on her lip, looking at me like I’m a walking prosand cons list. Eventually she says, “Yeah, actually, it does make a lot of sense.” She smiles.
“Aw, how cute!” Stefani says, and Bianca takes my hand and pulls me toward the cafeteria.
In an unexpected twist, Bianca might just be the answer to all my prayers. This way, when I finally get the balls to leave this hell of a life, no one will feel guilty about it. Plus, I can be straight now, so I won’t even go to hell after I die.
It’s the perfect plan.
The next week or so goes by pretty much the same. Nick and them leave me alone. I try to like Bianca. And Jamal and I silently tolerate each other in class.
At least, until he comes up to me after school one day. It’s raining pretty hard, and I’m soaked, waiting for my grandma to show up, when I hear him from behind me.
“Question,” Jamal says tentatively. Suddenly the rain stops, and a shadow comes over me. Of course he has a fucking umbrella. I turn around to see him standing straight, like usual, holding the umbrella over me instead of himself, even though we can both fit. He’s wearing his we-need-to-talk face.
“Yeah?” I say on reflex. For half a second, it almost feels like nothing’s changed. Like he’s about to ask me what I think aliens look like or what kind of creature I’d like to be reincarnated as.
“Why are you here?” If anyone else asked me that, I’d probably take it wrong, but Jamal looks more concerned than anything. He knows better than anyone how bad things were for me here before.
“Don’t worry about it,” I mumble, looking away. I know itcomes off cold, but I mean exactly what I say. If he’s still worrying about me, this is never gonna work.
He sighs and steps closer, speaking quietly so no one besides me can hear him over the rain. “Look, Cesar, I get it. You don’t want to be with me anymore. Fine. But you don’t have to be a dick about it. It’s not like we weren’t friends, too. Just... talk to me?”
I turn my head to look at him. He’s soaking too now, and I can’t help but read into this metaphor. He’s always holding out his umbrella for me and letting himself get soaked. If I wasn’t here, his nice clothes and shoes he loves so much would be dry. If I wasn’t here, he’d be much better off in general.
“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head hopelessly. “Ican’t.”
“Why not?” he asks. “What changed?”
And just then, Abuela’s car pulls up to the curb, and I step out from under the safety of Jamal’s umbrella without pretending to have an answer.
As we’re driving away, I look back at Jamal out the window, and I know that face too. I know exactly what he would say if I hadn’t walked away. What he always fucking says, no matter how much I continue to hurt him.
He’d say he understands.
But it’d be a lie.
21
When You’re God’s Favorite So He Intervenes to Help You Win Scrabble
Delusions Of Grandeur
When we get back to Abuela’s house, I head straight to the bedroom.
“Ah-ah-ah, where do you think you’re going?” Abuela says before I even make it to the hallway.
