Chapter 24 #2
He laughs, his mouth still pressed to my skin, muffling the sound. “You know, if I didn’t already assume you being an only child in a Mexican family meant you were spoiled, meeting your parents would’ve immediately told me so.”
“I’m not that spoiled.”
“Spoiled enough. They are really nice, though.”
“Hmm . Yeah. They’re really good people. And they like you a lot.”
I can feel him thinking. The thing about being incredibly into a guy when one of his majors is literally thinking, it becomes easy to realize when he’s getting into a brain hole.
“I … can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“Do you think they’re the type to be disappointed about you liking a boy? If your dad found out you aren’t just good with the girls.”
Another deep breath in and slowly out and I shake my head. “You want to know a t ó xico? Him when he was younger. Player. The stories I’ve heard from his friends and mis t í os. Wild.”
“Well, he is really handsome. I bet when he was our age, he—”
“Are you crushing on my dad ?”
I hear him laugh and feel his lips press on the top of my head.
“No. I’m very okay with his son. And I’m thinking about how you’re going to age incredibly well.
I already knew that seeing how serious you are about sunscreen and that facial care routine you got in your bathroom, plus you’re athletic, and with the genetics?
Anyway, that’s not what we’re talking about.
But you don’t have to answer it if you’re feeling uncomfortable.
We don’t have to get into this right now. ”
“No, I … yeah, they’re great. But they’re also really traditional.
My mom’s the ‘a woman should serve her man his plate first; he shouldn’t even be near the plates’ kind of mexicana.
Even when I’m at home, she won’t let me get my own food.
My Pops is a construction worker. And I know that stereotyping based on a job doesn’t mean it’s universal, but it’s a stereotype for a reason.
When M é xico fans got in trouble for yelling culero , he was there with them, cussing out FIFA, even knowing exactly what the context was. ”
“But they love you. I’ve been here for less than half an hour and I can clearly see that. Every home game I see it too, the way they cheer for you and go find you after matches.”
“They love the me they’ve always known. And I … I don’t know what happens if there was ever a day they couldn’t love me.”
One more kiss and I can feel him nod. “I get it. I promise, I do. I just … this you isn’t really so drastically different. And maybe they’ll see how, if anything, he’s so much better.”
“Maybe they won’t though. I don’t want to have to see them disappointed in me because I’m bi.”
“It kind of feels like you’re disappointing yourself instead, though.”
I breathe into his shirt, staring at my closed door, wondering what it might look like if we walked out with my hand in his. How nice that might feel.
And then I breathe out, and with it, come back to the harsh reality—
“I am.”
“Chinga’o , ” Pops says, standing next to me, watching my teammates take turns as keeper, trying to stop Kat’s goal attempts. So far, out of nine of my players? None have stopped them. “They’re incredible.”
My eyes go to him, half surprised and half impressed at hearing the they come out of his mouth.
At how, at some point while I was inside with Vale, he and Kat started this handshake they had to have made up on the spot, all fist bump, wiggly fingers, and shit.
I smile at him, letting a breath out through closed lips, and throw an arm around his shoulder.
“?Qu é pas ó , mi’jo?”
“Nada.” I bump my shoulder into his, and he takes the opportunity to hold me close to him. “Te adoro, Pops.”
“Igualmente, Gabi.” He brings a hand to my head, tilting me down to kiss it. “My boy.”
Never have I doubted whether or not he loves me.
And I know that’s huge for our culture. That not a lot of sons get that from their dads (at least, not while they’re sober).
Same with Mom. And I don’t think they’re bad people.
Never in my life have I had reason to believe they are.
I also didn’t bring Kat or Vale to my house with any belief that either of them would be disrespected by my family.
I can see where Vale would ask what if . But it’s also easier for my parents to just look past him or Kat. Whether Vale likes boys (including their son) or Kat is nonbinary, that doesn’t affect them. Or, at least, as far as they know, none of that affects them.
What if they found out their own son was bi?
If they couldn’t handle having a bisexual son, it would break me.
A hand smacking my stomach once, and then again clears my head. Pops’s hand goes one more time as he laughs. “You have enough to eat, boy? Y’all took out all the asada, but there’s a couple salchichas left. Some jalape n o poppers.”
“Yeah, Pops. I’m good.”
“’Ueno. Well, if you get hungry again, you know where to find food.
” He pulls away from me and heads over to Mom sitting in her rocking chair on the patio.
Actually, his beer cooler first, and then to Mom.
Not too far from them are P é rez and Vale, and a part of me is feeling a need to go over there and make sure my teammate isn’t being weird, but then I catch Vale laughing—a genuine laugh, not a fake, you’re so weird laugh—and I let my shoulders relax.
He’s good. As stressful as it’s been at some points tonight, and how it really hurts to have to pretend, there were also good times.
And seeing those two hanging out, knowing that P é rez has our backs, is a relief.
Thankfully, Barrera has been keeping his space, never saying as much as hi to Vale.
He and all the other guys (Kat included) have moved from trying keeper to making a big circle and passing the ball around without letting it hit the ground.
One of our juniors messes up first, and then Ahmed, both of them leaving the circle as it gets smaller each time until there’s only one King of the Ball.
Ahmed spots me and jogs over, bumping his shoulder into mine.
“Feel like I haven’t seen a lot of you.”
“I had to make my rounds, bro. Talk to my parents—”
“Yeah, I get that.” His arms cross when a chilly breeze comes through the backyard, and he bounces a few times on the balls of his feet.
“I mean, like, in general. Probably just how things happen, though, right? When we all first moved in, we had nothing else to do but practice, training, and come home and play grab ass.”
“We literally have practice and training every day. I see you all the time. And if you want me to grab your ass right now, just ask, bro.”
“Maybe later,” he says, giving me a quick wink. “But that’s my point. Feels like it’s been weeks now since the last time we just sat around playing FIFA. In the few hours we’ve got where we aren’t at practice, in class, or sleeping, we’ve all got our own things going on.”
“You getting sentimental on me, Ahmed?”
He turns his head and gives me a glare, and then a smile. His arm goes around my back and over my shoulders. “Maybe. I don’t know. Oh, but, that girl you were talking to at the beginning of the year. I forget her name.”
“Leana.”
“Yeah. Leana. I’m kind of talking to one of her pledge sisters.”
“And that’s why I haven’t seen much of you around the house?”
He laughs, relaxing his arm and patting the middle of my back. He’s got that curved smile and brows that are telling me, Yeah. That’s exactly right , as he brings a Jarritos up to his mouth and takes a swig.
“Okay, whatever. I’m the problem here. But, also, that entire sorority is something else, right?
All tens. Saw her at their ABC party, danced a little, all of a sudden she’s like, ‘Want to hang out after?’ and I’m like, ‘Say less.’ Next thing I know we’re texting all the time, I’m waking up in her bed, she’s inviting me to date dashes.
I didn’t even know what a date dash was.
Now she’s talking about coming to our next home game. ”
Sounds like I wasn’t the only player who ended up having a really good night after the ABC party.
“Good for you, bro,” I tell him while bringing my phone up when it vibrates for a second, immediately smiling at the screen.
Hate how you just standing there has got me thinking some thoughts that will actually keep me from ever seeing heaven.
“Yeah, and I— dang, Pi n a , who got you smiling like that?” Ahmed asks, catching me looking all goofy and thinking some thoughts of my own.
“Oh shit. Baby? And the heart emoji, bro? My boy is down bad. Who is she? I’m here talking about me, and you’ve got a girl of your own that you’re already on a baby and heart emoji level with! ”
“It—” I look around, catching a few teammates eyeing us as Ahmed shakes my shoulders and gasses me up, wanting to get in on the chisme session.
Kat looks like they’re trying to figure out how to rescue me.
I can’t turn all the way to Vale and P é rez.
If I see him right now, I know my eyes are going to give away what’s happening.
“Just trying to keep it quiet for now, bro.”
“Why? Is the blue heart because she’s in the sorority with the blue shirts? Or— dude , is it one of Leana’s pledge sisters too? Going for someone in her close circle like that so you got to date in secret otherwise her sis would be betraying Girl Code?”
Definitely something like that .
“I … nah. Nothing like that. And you’ve got to stop watching those terrible Netflix shows. Putting ideas in your head.”
“But you’re into her, huh?”
I finally force myself to turn my head more, catching an empty table. I want to run off so badly. To go find Vale. To make sure he didn’t leave. Or to at least make sure P é rez has got him. To convince him that I’m all in with him, even if, right now, it’s obvious that’s a lie.
I want to run off because I’m getting tired of the sport I love making me lie about a person I could easily fall in love with.
That I might quickly be falling in love with.
Or maybe I’ve been falling in love with him for a while.
Ever since that first kiss. Or that half an hour on the beach, or talking about caves and listening to him talk about comics, or handing him my jacket at one of my games.
“I am. Yeah. I’m very into her.”
I’m sorry.
I’m arguing with myself over adding more. I’m sorry for not going after you. I’m sorry for not FaceTiming you as soon as I could. I’m sorry I just took P é rez at his word instead of checking on you myself. And I’m sorry it took me so long to finally tell you anything.
I’m sorry for all the times we’re not going to have control over our relationship.
I send a blue heart emoji too. Because I want Vale to know that’s for him and no one else. If an emoji makes me down bad, then I am 1000 percent down bad for him.
And I wait. I sit on my bed, tapping my phone every time it goes dark, thinking maybe he texted me back and I didn’t get the notification. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. And, finally, the ellipsis bubble shows up.
I know .
And, a minute later, a blue heart emoji.