Page 16 of Pride High

Omar got pulled into a conversation with Dave and David, so Anthony let his attention wander around the cafeteria. The rain was really coming down now. More people were eating inside than usual, many of them standing by the windows rather than taking a seat. Maybe because the tables were so territorial. Like the one closest to the trashcans, which was considered a no-man’s-land. Few people sat there willingly. Those who did were inevitably alone. That’s how it had been for Anthony at the beginning of freshman year, until a sympathetic secretary in the principal’s office let him change his schedule so he could eat with Omar. Anthony did a double take when noticing a mop of dark hair draped around black-framed glasses. Ricky. He must not have any friends with the same lunch period. Anthony felt a pang of sympathy for him until he noticed that Ricky was staring at the back of Omar’s head. Their eyes met briefly. Anthony looked away while clenching his jaw.

The album finally came to an end. He yanked his earbuds out so he could hear again. Omar noticed instantly.

“Well?” he asked. “What do you think?”

“Not bad,” Anthony said with a nod, “for prog rock.”

“For what?”

“Progressive rock. You know, like Rush or Yes.”

“Hold up,” Omar said, ripping a page from his notebook so he could begin scribbling on the paper. “Prog rock you said?”

“Yeah. Are you—”

“I know who Rush is. What about Yes?”

“They’re British and sang ‘Owner of a Lonely Heart’although that doesn’t sound like most of their stuff.”

“Lonely heart,” Omar murmured while continuing to write. “Okay, so is Dream Theater any good?”

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “I mean… Yeah, if you’re into prog rock, these guys are definitely cool.”

Omar seemed disappointed by this assessment. “Huh.”

“Why does this remind me of your book reports?” Anthony asked, already knowing the answer. Omar preferred to ask him what a book was about rather than read it himself.

“Silvia talked me into buying that tape,” Omar said, nodding at the Walkman. “I know she’s going to ask me about it in class today, and I need to know what to say.”

Anthony was crushed beneath a wave of disappointment. The entire time, he kept thinking Omar was excited to share some new music that he’d discovered. But at least he felt like he could rely on Anthony for such things. “Well, what doyouthink about it?”

Omar shrugged. “It’s not my style. The guitars sound awesome when they shred, but all the piano crap and sappy lyrics kill it for me.”

“Then tell her that.”

“No way!”

“Why not?”

“Because I want her to like me,” Omar explained.

Anthony blinked. “Then you’ll have to be honest or she’ll end up liking someone that you’re not.”

Omar thought about this and laughed. “You’re right. But man, I sure wish I could talk music the way you do.”

“If you haven’t noticed, few things make me happier than getting to explain music to you. Silvia will feel the same way… If she’s really an aficionado.”

“You’re the best,” Omar said with a guffaw. Then his expression shifted to concern as he focused on the scrap of paper again. “How do you spell aficionado? Is that some sort of music lover?”

Anthony laughed. Part of him was reluctant to help Omar get anywhere with this girl. The rest, as always, simply wanted to do whatever it took to make his best friend happy.

— ——

Omar’s heart was pounding as he walked into the business finances classroom. The desks here were the more traditional single-seaters lined up into four rows. He always opted for the back of the room when given a choice. It felt cooler somehow. He was disappointed to see that Silvia’s seat was still empty. Omar fixated on the door, like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. The bell rang before Silvia finally appeared. He watched her mumble an apology to the teacher, Mr. Peterson, before heading for her desk. As she sat, Silvia looked around, located Omar, and smiled at him. He was almost too surprised to respond, but he managed a dopey grin before she settled down and faced the front.

He found it difficult to think about much else during the rest of class. She had intentionally sought him out. And then smiled! How could something so small make him feel so big? He kept looking in her direction, wishing he could switch seats so they could be closer. Or how about a project? One of those “choose a partner” moments that always made him cringe. He wouldn’t this time. Not if God gave him the chance. He decided it was worth praying for and did so silently. Perhaps that’s why his request wasn’t heard. The class ended without her falling into his arms. He’d have to fly solo on this one.

“Hey,” he said, walking up as she gathered her things.

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