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“No problem,” Diego said, turning to face him again. “Do you want to meet after school?”

“At the grove?” Ricky asked. “No. I’m taking a break from that sort of thing. I have some stuff I need to figure out first.” Jeremiah had done a number on him. He wanted to deal with it before making another attempt at love. Or lust.

“That’s not what I meant,” Diego said. “I just wanna hang out. With you.”

Ricky felt his heart flutter. “Wow. Yeah! That would be cool but… My mom is picking me up right after sixth period. It’ll probably be that way for a while. They keep saying I’m not grounded, but I might as well be.”

“And I thought my mom was bad,” Diego grumbled. “Some other time?”

“Yeah! I’d like that.”

Diego gave an upward nod and said, “See ya around, Ricky.”

He stared as he lumbered away, certain it was the first time Diego had ever said his name, because he would have remembered how good it sounded in that deep rumbling voice. “Bye,” he said at last, even though he was alone. Then, while walking to the cafeteria, he murmured to himself, “Ricky Gomez. Huh. I guess that could work.”

— — —

Anthony walked up to a house he’d never been to, and before he could second-guess himself, knocked on the door. A woman opened the door. She had the same thick hair and prominent cheeks as her son.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m here to see Ricky,” Anthony said.

“Oh! Come inside. My gosh… Are those snow flurries?”

“Yeah,” Anthony said, “but don’t worry. I don’t think it’s going to stick.”

She escorted him to the living room before considering himwith concern. “Why don’t you wait here while I tell Ricky that he has a visit from…”

“Anthony,” he supplied.

“Ah. I’ll be right back.”

He decided to stand instead of sitting, knowing there was a good chance that he’d be asked to leave. To his relief, Mrs. Nishikawa soon reappeared and said, “Right this way!”

They went up the stairs and down a hallway. Ricky was leaning against the doorway, not looking pleased to see him. His mother must have noticed, because she continued to hang around.

“Hey,” Ricky said, and without any warmth he added, “Nice to see you.”

“Hey,” Anthony responded.

Ricky rolled against the doorframe and went inside. Unsure what to do, Anthony followed. The bedroom was sparse compared to his own. Probably because Ricky hadn’t lived here for long. There were comic book posters and some sort of sci-fi looking plastic figures on a shelf. He had his own TV, which must be nice. Mrs. Nishikawa was still hovering by the door.

“It’s fine, Mom,” Ricky said from behind him. “We don’t have a suicide pact or something stupid. I’ll be okay.”

Anthony pretended not to hear this exchange, only turning around when the door clicked shut.

“I know you’re here because you feel sorry for me,” Ricky said, “and I honestly don’t mind. At least it’s a break from them keeping tabs on me constantly.”

“That must suck,” Anthony said.

“Gee, you think so?” Ricky shot back.

Anthony clenched his jaw. Then he exhaled and forced himself to relax. A bridge wasn’t built in a single day, as his father was fond of saying. “I’m not here because I feel sorry for you,” he said. “The truth is, I’m jealous of you and have been for a long time.”

Ricky considered him. Then he laughed. “I havegotto hear this!”

“Okay.” Anthony took off his coat and tossed it on the bed before sitting next to it. “For starters, I’ve always had a thing for Omar. But he’s straight, so I figured it was impossible. Until you came along.”