The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School(100)

Amber and David meet us there. They look surprised to see Jamal, and I realize they still think he’s my ex.

“Jamal’s not really my ex,” I say to clear the air.

“What?” Amber and David say at the same time. Bo just chews her food.

“Yeah . . . it’s kind of a funny story,” Cesar says, and everyone stares at us for the answer. Cesar lets them wait in anticipation while he eats. He’s an asshole like that.

“Yami was covering for me because I’m, uh, I’m bi. And she was pretending my boyfriend was her boyfriend so he could come over and stuff.” He says it so casually, despite it being a huge deal, saying it out loud. I can’t blame him. It’s not much better than me impulsively shouting I’M GAY at anyone I want to come out to.

“So, you two are together, then?” Amber asks Cesar and Jamal. Cesar looks down and runs his hand through his hair.

“Uh . . . ,” Jamal starts. His eyes cut to the side, like he’s trying to gauge Cesar’s reaction. Nothing. “We were, yeah.”

David sucks in a breath through his teeth, and it’s awkward again. I want to smack Cesar on the back of his head. Why isn’t he saying anything?

“That’s cool that you’re still friends, though,” Amber says.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Jamal says, and I hurry up and change the subject before the poor boy implodes.

We get to Bo’s house at six thirty, which is nice, because I want a little bit of chill time before people start showing up. All the furniture is moved outside to make room for dancing in the living room, and there’s a bunch of tables and chairs for people to chill at out on the patio. Bo and I go off to the study upstairs and leave everyone else behind.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m super stoked about gay prom, but all I want to do right now is be alone with Bo. I want to savor the time we have until people get here. Then we can dance all night. If my mom was here, she’d scold us for being in a room alone. But she’s not here, and it’s not like we’re having sex or anything. I’m not even close to being there yet. Right now, just holding her hand sends lightning shooting through my nervous system.

“How are you doing?” Bo asks. It feels a little awkward to ask such a small-talk question. But I’m on cloud nine, so I tell her just that.

“I’m great. So great, you don’t even know.”

“I think I know a little bit.” She smiles and slides her hand into mine. Right when she does, I feel my whole body relax. Like she sucked all the tension right out of me. I don’t know how she does that. She’s like a sorceress. I’m about to slip up and blurt out that I think I’m in love with her when I literally get saved by the bell.





27


. . . Me Amo Y Respeto Yo


It’s barely seven, and someone’s already ringing the doorbell. Why anyone wants to come to anti-prom right on time, I’ll never understand. In the five seconds after the bell rings, everyone gets to their stations. Bo and I go back downstairs. David puts on some music. He volunteered to be the “DJ” for the night, which pretty much means setting up his playlist. Bo goes to block off the stairway with a dog fence to keep everyone else downstairs. Her parents are hiding upstairs with the dogs because “teenagers are scary.” I go for the door.

Hell. No.

Jenna and Karen are standing in the doorway. I start to close the door on them, but Jenna stops me.

“Wait! We just wanted to say sorry. Can we talk to Bo?” she asks.

“No,” I say, and start pushing the door closed, but Karen pushes it open.

“We just want to talk to her, then we’re going to prom.”

“Go to prom then! Say sorry at school if you want to so bad,” I say. Karen tries to push past me. I push back. Who cares if they’re trying to apologize? They don’t get to insert themselves into our night to clear their guilty consciences. They don’t get to make tonight about them.

When I push back against Karen, she grabs my arm, pulling me out with her.

“Just let us talk to her!” Karen shouts, and the crisp sound of tearing satin shouts back. I’m being pulled one way by Karen, and the other by my dress, which is stuck behind the now-closed door. Karen lets go of my arm as soon as she sees what she’s done, and I fall to my hands and knees. I don’t know if it was the loss of contact, or if my knees went weak from the rip.

“Yami, I’m so sorry,” Jenna pleads, wide-eyed.

“GO AWAY!” I scream. And they do. They run back to their car and drive off.

One night. They couldn’t let us have one night.

Bo comes rushing outside a few seconds later. She must have heard me yelling at them.

“Oh my gosh, Yami. What happened?” She’s staring at my dress, then at Jenna’s car driving off. “Is that Jenna?”

I start blinking really fast to keep tears from coming out. My dress is ruined, I can’t ruin my makeup, too.

“I didn’t let them in,” I say. Bo squats down next to me and takes my hand.

“Thank you,” she says. “Let’s get you changed.”

I maneuver myself so I can see the rip. I’m showing my whole ass.

“Oh my God!” I jump up so fast I’m dizzy, and pull the fabric behind me as best I can in case anyone drives up. I’m in a thong, so Bo just saw my entire bare ass. I should be mortified, but a laugh escapes from somewhere deep in my lungs. Bo cracks up with me, and we hurry upstairs to her room before anyone else gets the privilege of seeing the goods.