Page 17 of Pride High

“Omar! Hi! Did you get a chance to listen to Dream Theater?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Their guitar player really knows his stuff.”

She brightened at this news. “So you liked it?”

His head began to nod. He was willing to like anything she wanted him to! Then again, Anthony had made a good case for being honest, so he aimed for somewhere in the middle. “I did. But only the heavier songs.”

“Too many tears?” she asked.

He smiled at the reference. They already had private jokes! “I’m not actually into softer stuff, even when alone. I’m just too manly.”

“Oh. Well you can return the tape if you want.”

“No! I’ll listen to it again. Some of the tracks are cool. Prog rock isn’t really my go-to genre though.”

“I guess Queensrÿcheismore on the metal side,” Silvia said musingly.

“Exactly! I’m way more into Metallica and Megadeth. Anthraxisn’t bad either.” She was getting the same look on her face that Anthony did whenever Omar raved about his favorite bands. Aficionado must be another word for music snob. “Faith No More is cool. I’ve been listening toAngel Dustnonstop since it came out.”

“Yeah, they aren’t bad,” Silvia said. “Mike Patton did a side project recently.”

“The lead singer?” he guessed.

“Yup! I think we have it at the store.”

He was about to say he’d stop by after school, until he remembered how angry his father had been with his grades last year. “I wish I could swing by,” he said, having to force the words out, “but I have to meet someone so we can finish a project. It’s due tomorrow or I’d bail.”

“No problem,” she said. “You know where to find me.”

That sounded like an open invitation. “I’ll take you up on that,” he said with his best smile.

She barely noticed, already looking to the clock. “Cool. I better get going.”

“Yeah. Same here. It was nice chatting with you, Silvia.”

This time she saw his smile, her brown eyes darting down to his mouth before she matched his expression. They parted ways, Omar halfway to his locker before realizing he should’ve walked Silvia to her bike. He was a headbanger, sure, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a gentleman.

— — —

Omar paced the living room at Ricky’s house, occasionally picking up a random object to inspect it. He was so freaking bored! But also aware that he had the best deal. They’d figured out a sort of system. Ricky would write the bulk of the article, as he was doing now at the coffee table, and whenever he needed to reference something, Omar would flip through the books and magazines to find it for him. He would even read the information aloud, mostly in the name of pulling his own weight. He just hoped that Ricky was better at writing than he was. Omar tried to stay quiet, to let him concentrate, but that got harder the longer he waited. Maybe it would make more sense if he went to the record store and came back later. But when he turned around to share this idea and saw how hard Ricky was working, he simply didn’t have the heart. So he paced. And waited.

He found himself staring at the family photo taken on a ski slope. Ricky’s mom was hot for an older woman. Was that too creepy a thought? Maybe. But she was. The silence and boredom was about to break him, so he turned around and asked, “Are you any good at skiing?”

Ricky finished writing a line before he looked up. “Yeah. I fell down a lot, at first, but I’m pretty good at that too.”

Omar laughed. “I’ve never even tried. We don’t have mountains around here.”

“I miss them,” Ricky said. “Kansas is nice but…”

“There’s no place like home?” Omar suggested. “I’d like to find out if that’s true.”

“It is. You’ve been here your whole life?”

“Yup. Born and raised. What do you miss about Colorado?”

Ricky leaned back and sighed. “My friends. I didn’t have many, but we were close. Calls and letters just aren’t the same. I was nervous enough about starting high school, even with the friends I had. Now I don’t know who anyone is. Like, I have no context at all. Some guy came up to me the other day and I thought he was being nice. Then he pushed me into the girls’ restroom and wouldn’t let me out again.”

“Who was it?” Omar asked.

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