Page 71 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
“You need a ride?” Hunter asks, to my horror.
“Oh, are you sure?” Avery glances at me like it’s really me he wants the answer from, but Hunter’s saying yes before I can protest. Besides, I can’t tell Avery no for Hunter without telling Hunter everything.
Once it’s just the three of us in Hunter’s car, Avery feels way more awkward. It’s not the kind of tense awkward like he is around Nick, but he just seems so uncomfortable. I don’t know if he feels guilty or what, but I don’t care. Hunter starts playing that same indie band, and Avery’s suddenly a person again. He and Hunter go off with each other about how obsessed they are with the band, and I happily ignore Avery the rest of the ride.
When I get home, I’m about to follow my new routine of heading straight to my room and staying there when I get an idea.
“I want to go to conversion therapy,” I announce as I approach the living room where my mom and Yami are working.
Yami’s head whips around with a disgusted look on her face before she seems to remember we aren’t talking.
Mami, on the other hand, looks more sad than anything. “No, mijo. We’re not doing anything like that.”
“Why not?” I stand my ground, trying to keep my cool if I want to be in any way convincing.
She looks over to Yami as if for help answering me. Yami sighs and says, “It doesn’t work,” to Mami instead of to me.
“That’s not true.” I glare at Yami even though she won’t look at me. “I know someone who went, and it worked for him.”
“I said no, and that’s final,” Mami says firmly this time. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. Cesar, Yami, why don’t you two go check on Doña Violeta for a bit? You haven’t visited in a while. She gets lonely, you know.” She changes the subject, like that’ll make me just forget.
And maybe it’s working, because my cheeks heat up at the mention of Doña Violeta. I can’t forget how she tricked me into going to my grandma’s and abandoned me there. I’m not exactly in a rush to see her.
“I have homework,” I start, and Yami protests too.
“But we have so much work to do, Mami. I can visit her tomorrow.” I notice she says “I” and not “we.” She has nothing against Doña Violeta; she just doesn’t want to go with me.
“It wasn’t a request,” Mami says as she takes Yami and me by our wrists and ushers us out the door, practically throwing us outside before shutting the door behind us.
Yami and I stand there for a moment, her eyes catching mine for a second before they dart toward the road. She starts walking, not waiting for me to follow. Whatever.
I trudge along behind her, letting her ignore me. The least I can do for Yami right now is stay out of her way.
Doña Violeta’s music grows louder the closer we get to her porch. She’s talking on the phone but waves enthusiastically when she sees us approaching, and Yami waves back. I pointedly shove my hands into my pockets, so she knows I’m still pissed.
“I’ve got to go, Chela. Okay, I’ll tell them,” she says when wemake it to the porch. “Your abuela says hi,” she tells me and Yami as she hangs up the phone. Knowing my abuela has someone to talk to makes me just a tiny bit less bitter about Doña Violeta’s existence. Atinybit.
“Hola, Doña,” Yami says as soon as we make it to the porch. She hugs and kisses her on her cheeks.
“Hola, mija, te quiero mucho.” Doña Violeta hugs and kisses back. Then she looks at me and smiles like she didn’t lie and screw me over. At least I have the decency to give Jamal and Yami some space after betraying them.
“Mijo, you’ve been eating too many sweets, haven’t you?” she says to me, giving my stomach a playful pinch.
“Ay, ¡ya!” I say, swatting her hand away.
Usually this would be when Yami gives one of her feminist lectures she and Bo love to give about body image and how you shouldn’t point out people’s weight, and how gaining weight isn’t necessarily indicative of health or eating habits alone, blah blah blah.
But Yami stays quiet this time, letting the backhanded comment sink into my apparently growing gut. Yes, I’ve gained some weight recently. No, it’s none of Doña Violeta’s business. So what if I’ve been eating more than usual? Food is one of the only things these days that makes me feel anything worth feeling. When I eat, I’m not guilty, or depressed, or angry. Eating is the only time I really get to just exist without thinking.
And now I feel like I can’t even have that.
26
When He’s Perfect for You, But You Can’t Hurt Him Again
Self-Sabotage
Bianca catches me between classes at school the next day. And by catches, I mean she literally corners me at the edge of the hallway as soon as I get out of class. It’s almost like she was waiting for me.
