Page 69 of Pride High

“All that stuff you told me about your life in Colorado,” Cameron said. “Did you make it up? I won’t be mad. I only want to understand.”

“Colorado?” Anthony repeated, but he was distracted, having noticed something farther away.

Cameron followed his gaze and saw a small guy with a mop of black hair and glasses walking toward them with a grimace permanently etched onto his face. When he noticed Cameron watching him, the grimace changed to a tentative smile followed by a hesitant wave.

“A friend of yours?” Cameron asked.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Anthony replied as he stood. “Just a sec.” As he walked forward, he said, “Hey, Ricky. What’s up?”

“Umm… I was just curious about where you went.” The newcomer leaned to the left, to see past Anthony, and bugged his eyes out at Cameron. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Anthony said, sounding less patient this time. “Everything’s fine.”

“Okay,” Ricky said, still fixating on Cameron, which was strange, because they’d never seen each other before. “Uh… I think Omar wanted to ask you something.”

“Tell him to ask me later,” Anthony grumbled.

“Okay.”

Ricky didn’t move. Instead he stared at Cameron for so long that Anthony noticed and shifted to block him from view. “We’re in the middle of something,” he said. “Tell everyone that I’ll explain later. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Now would be good,” Anthony said pointedly.

The kid finally took the hint and walked away, casting backward glances at Cameron as he went.

“Sorry,” Anthony said as he returned. “Ricky is a freshman. He just moved here, so we let him hang out with us big kids.” His forehead crinkled. “Although oddly enough,he’sfrom Colorado.”

Cameron looked in the direction that Ricky had gone and saw him hold up his hands helplessly, as if to say, “What am I supposed to do?”

The bell rang before Cameron could react. His head was spinning as he stood. Was it possible that Skylar and Anthony were two different people?

“Where’s your next class?” Anthony asked as they gathered up the remains of their lunch.

“I have biology next.” Cameron glanced at where he’d last seen Ricky, but the swarm of students obscured him from sight.

“Same here! Too bad we don’t have any of the same classes. Still…” Anthony’s smile was demure. “Wanna walk me there?”

Cameron finally focused on him again. “Yeah! I’ll even let you carry my books.”

Anthony laughed. “Or your sack lunch. You didn’t eat anything.”

“I’ll wolf it down between classes,” Cameron said as they began strolling. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Definitely. You could sit at our table, but we wouldn’t be able to talk openly. I mean, you’re welcome to anyway, but there’s so much I want to ask you. And I don’t want to worry about censoring ourselves. Hold up!” Anthony moved toward a line of lockers and began spinning the combination to open one.

“So this is where you live,” Cameron said, attempting to sound seductive.

“Yup. Although I don’t usually bring guys home with me this quick.” He cleared his throat, maybe because of the other people around them. Or it could be that the inside of his locker was plastered with images of different bands, torn from magazines, making it impossible to see the metal walls.

“I take it you like music,” Cameron said.

“If you don’t, we’re in serious trouble,” Anthony replied while digging through his backpack.

“I’m a music lover,” Cameron said, eyeing the bands, which all seemed to be alternative rock. “Richard Marx is good. So is Wilson Phillips. Oh! Are you into Enya?”

Anthony very slowly turned toward him with an arched eyebrow. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear any of that. Here.” He held out a scrap of paper with seven digits written on it. “Call me sometime.”

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