The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School(36)

“Yeah, hi,” I say.

“Hunter wanted me to invite you to the homecoming after-party tomorrow, in case he missed you after the game.”

“Oh, thanks, but I don’t know. I probably won’t know anyone there,” I say, even though I’m sure Cesar will want to go.

“It’s fine. You can bring a friend if you want.” He shrugs, hands me a folded-up piece of paper, and walks off.

I unfold it to see an address and a smiley face. I stuff it into my pocket, then get my nachos and leave. I’ll have to see if Cesar was invited. I wouldn’t want to go by myself.

After we win the game, Cesar is the first one out of the locker rooms. He’s in David’s uniform, sweating profusely. He probably did jumping jacks for the last ten minutes to pull this off. That boy can really sweat. I wonder if he was hiding in the locker room the whole game. . . . My mom ignores the sweat and gives him a huge hug.

“You did so good, mijo! I’m so proud of you!” A few more sweaty kisses. Gross. Cesar and my mom don’t seem to mind.

Cesar goes back to change, and Mom goes to wait for us in the car while I wait for him to come back. Hunter comes out first, and comes straight for me, picking me up in a hug. The noise that comes out of my mouth when he lifts me off the ground is something between a gremlin screech and a shrieking pig. Not exactly the cute squeal he was probably expecting. He puts me down.

“What was that noise?” Jamal says, and Bo and Amber giggle, which isn’t good for our cover. He’s supposed to be acting jealous or something. Good thing Mom went to the car, otherwise she’d definitely grill me over that hug later.

“I was just surprised.” I hit Jamal’s arm, and then Hunter’s. “You scared me!”

“Just wanted to say hi, and thanks for coming.” He blushes.

I’m about to introduce Jamal to Hunter as my boyfriend so he’s in the loop when David and Cesar walk back out together. David must have been waiting in the locker room for Cesar to give him his uniform back. He’s a real one—going an entire game without taking off that helmet couldn’t have been too fun. I wonder what Cesar bribed him with. . . .

“Gotta go!” Hunter says, then rushes over to David and Cesar. Cesar slaps Hunter’s hand, then jogs over to us like he was tagged in. Weird.

“Coach J wants to give the team a pep talk, so David said not to wait for him,” Cesar says. Amber looks disappointed, but Bo gives me a wink.

“Guess we should head home, then,” Bo says, linking arms with Amber and leading her toward the parking lot. Cesar and I follow.

Before we get past the food stand, a line of football players blocks our way, Hunter among them. They start lifting up their jerseys one by one, revealing the letters H-O-M-E-C-O-M-I-N-G-? underneath. Then they split down the middle and David walks to Amber with a bouquet of flowers.

Amber has a huge dopey smile on, and she’s flapping her hands near her face.

“It took you freaking long enough!!” she shouts, then they hug. I guess that’s a yes?

I knew David was going to ask her, and I’m happy, but it’s just now hitting me that it means Bo and I will be ditching the dance together, just the two of us. The idea of hanging out one-on-one with Bo makes my stomach feel all tight.

Everyone around us cheers for David and Amber, and I let out a sigh of relief. The hardest part is over.

Cesar is going to homecoming with his football friends while I hang out with Bo, but I promised him I’d go with him to the after-party. It’s sweet that Jamal trusts Cesar to party without him. I mean, it should be a given when you’re in a relationship to trust your partner, but I don’t know a lot of people who do. Maybe one day we’ll mature and stop feeling jealousy, but for now, Cesar and Jamal are ahead of the curve.

Bo’s ugly-cute dogs jump on me as soon as she opens the door, and they follow us upstairs. Bo and Amber have a tradition of watching horror movies with one-star ratings instead of going to dances. Even with low ratings, I get scared easily. If there’s blood or monsters or demons or serial killers, it’s scary. Period. I find myself staring at Bo’s hand, waiting for her to get scared too and reach for mine.

To my disappointment, she doesn’t. I guess it’s not “scary” enough for Bo to want to grab my hand for comfort. And I’m not about to make that move. I’d rather Bo not think I’m as squeamish as I am. Without Bo’s hand, I have to get creative to keep from pissing my pants at every low-budget jump scare. I imagine all the bone cracks and flesh-cutting are sound effects made by biting into carrots and crunching lettuce. It’s a sort of comforting thought. I try to distract myself by thinking about how I’ll convince Bo to come to the party. I’m happy to get my mind off the movie, so I bring it up the minute the credits roll.

“I got invited to the after-party,” I say, trying to sound extra casual.

“Are you gonna go?” Bo asks through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Yeah. You should come, too! They said I could bring someone. . . .” I don’t know if it sounds like I’m asking her to come as my date. It feels like it does, but I don’t mean for it to sound like that.

“Amber invited me, too. But I don’t really want to go. Besides, I’m pretty sure they meant a boy.”

“They didn’t specify gender. Come on, it’ll be fun!”