Caleb smiled his thanksand sat down. After a few minutes, Mitch returned, bearing a tray.“Have a snack. If you need anything, just holler. We’ll be upstairsin our office.”
He hadn’t eaten anythingsince breakfast. In no time, Caleb had gobbled up the tuna sandwichand drained the can of soda. He settled back on the couch, andstared at the TV, not bothering to change the channel. It showed arugged pony-tailed chef demonstrating how to stuff asquid.
Soon after, Caleb fellasleep. He dreamt of a giant squid, its tentacles waving menacinglyas it chased him around the amusement park. Every so often, itwould open its black pit of a mouth and rumble in a deepvoice: NO SON OF MINE IS GAY.
* * *
He woke up with a jolt,thinking that he’d closed his eyes for only a few minutes. But theroom had grown dim, and the curtains, which had been drawn aside,revealed the darkness outside. Though the electric fan was stillwhirring, his back was damp with sweat.
Yellow light spilled fromthe other room. He got up and followed the fluorescent glow,dragging his cramped left thigh. Snatches of conversation and thechink of utensils drifted toward him, but when he finally reachedthe entrance, the sounds came to a complete halt.
And thenoomph. Caleb staggeredback, almost losing his balance. He had never played Americanfootball, but this must be what it felt like to be tackled during aplay. Only said tackler just reached up to his chest and hadmulti-colored hair.
“I went home as infinitelyfast as I could only to find you drooling on our couch.” Ginny saidher voice muffled. Her head snapped up, eyes searching his face.“What happened? Why are you here? Why have you beenabsent?”
Caleb needed to tell hersomething right now. He grasped her shoulders. “Gins,” he gaspedout. “Which way to the bathroom?”
Laughter exploded from thetable. “Slow down, Ginny. There’ll be time for questions later.”Mitch’s eyes twinkled at Caleb. “Second door to the left, dear.Come back here when you’re done.”
A few minutes later, Calebsat down in a fresh shirt, his bladder emptied and the sleep washedoff his eyes. Across him, Ginny gave him a look, but dutifully kepther mouth shut as Kate handed him the pasta followed by thecarbonara sauce.
“Ginny tells us you’re apiano major,” she said. “Mitch and I are fans of classical music.Too bad we don’t have a piano here. We would have loved to hear youplay.”
“Caleb’s the only freshmancandidate for the masterclass to be handled by Cynthia Liban,”Ginny stated proudly. “Caleb’s piano teacher thinks he has a goodshot at it.”
Caleb gripped his fork. Hehad missed his session with Sir Carreon this week. “It’s too earlyto tell,” he said in a tight voice.
“Being a candidate isalready an achievement.” Mitch smiled. “You’re allowed to be proudof yourself, Caleb.”
When dinner was over, thewomen shooed him away from the table, insisting that he was excusedfrom cleaning up. Ginny led Caleb to the guest roomupstairs.
“Finally.” Ginny plopped on the bed and demanded, “Tellme everything.”
His eyes roved around theroom, which was bigger than his own bedroom. The cream walls werebare, and a dark-wood writing desk stood over to one side, its thinlegs curling outward.
It was Caleb’s first timeto sleep at a friend’s house. This was not the sleepover he’dimagined, but it would have to do. Home felt like thousands ofmiles away.
“Youraunts seem really nice. Are they your dad’s or your mom’ssisters?”
“Tita Mitch and my mom aresisters.” Ginny nodded at Caleb’s bag. “Did you runaway?”
“Yup. What about TitaKate? Is she a relative?”
“Does your mom know you’rehere? Because Tita Mitch told me earlier that you can stay here onone condition—that you let your mom know you’re with me.” Ginnypaused. “Tita Kate is not exactly a relative.”
“I don’t want to talk tomy mom, Gins,” Caleb said, his voice hard. “That’s the one thing Iwon’t do.”
“Not my rules, okay? Thisisn’t my house.” Ginny sighed, lowering her voice. “And I’m with myaunt on this one. You should at least let your mom know you’resafe. I mean, my parents still check up on me every singleday.”
“You don’t understand.”Caleb ran his fingers through his bangs, which flopped back on hisforehead. “My mom—she thinks I have this . . . this delusion thatcan go away as soon as I talk to a priest. She looks at me like I’mhurting her for being something I didn’t choose.”
“Cale,you’re not making sense. You’re scaring me.” Ginny grabbed his arm.“What are you talking about?”
Caleb stared at Ginny’sfingers curled over his arm. Her nails were painted a bright green,the color of makahiya reaching out to the sun. At the edge of her thumbnail, thepolish was chipped. A chink in the armor of perfection that wasboth jarring and heartbreakingly real. Because really, who couldclaim to be perfect? Everybody was broken in some way.
“Gins,” he said softly,meeting her gaze. “There’s something about me that you shouldknow.”
Ginny stared at him withher round eyes.
He raised his headskyward, releasing a tiny prayer for courage. Then he exhaled thefears away and looked at her. “I’m gay.”
One second. Two seconds.Caleb counted three seconds of absolute silence before Ginnyblurted, “And . . . ?”
He stared at her indisbelief.
“That’s it?” Ginny wasstill looking at him suspiciously. “No drugs involved?”
He closed his mouth,opened it again. Finally, he settled on throwing his hands in theair. “For the last time, Gins, I don’t do drugs!”
“It’s just that . . .well, you’ve been acting so weird lately. Skipping school, ignoringmy calls . . .” Her eyes grew twice their size. “Wait, is this whyyou were hanging out with Franco? Did you come out tohim?”
Things were spinning toofast. Caleb covered his eyes with his palm. “I’m gay, Gins. Can’tyou get over that fact first before jumping to the nexttopic?”
“It’s not like you’redoing drugs, right? Or off murdering someone or . . . or stealing acar. I mean if my best friend suddenly tells me he’s gay—well,okay, I’d be a bit surprised. But I’ve been thinking the worstthings about you, and your being gay is not even close to beingbad.”
She must have noticed thatCaleb was still staring at her
