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“Fine,” Ricky reported.

Ami exchanged a glance with his father, Ken, who had taken off his suit jacket and tie before sitting down to eat. Ricky had a lot in common with him, from the prescription glasses they both wore to a shared interest in technology. Computers especially. And yet, Ricky had always felt a little closer to his mother.

“I had a chance to mess around with a CD-ROM drive today,” Ken said, seemingly at random.

Ricky perked up. “Really? They can store so much that, in theory, we could fit all the data from both our hard drives onto a single compact disc and still have tons of space left over. It’s crazy! What did you think?”

Ken sniffed. “It was fine.”

Ricky continued to stare. Normally, his father was happy to engage in lengthy conversations about computers, but he said no more. Which was the point, Ricky realized.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh of resignation. “School sucks. This dumb kid keeps picking on me.”

Ami raised her eyebrows. “Does it go beyond name calling? And is it racially motivated?”

“No,” Ricky said. “He’s a sophomore. I think he failed Englishlast year and is taking it out on me. So far, it’s not a big deal.”

“Keep us informed,” Ken said grimly.

“Have you made any new friends?” Ami asked.

Ricky thought about what he’d done to Omar an hour before. If that wasn’t friendly, he didn’t know what was! “Yeah. I really like a guy from my journalism class. The one who’s been coming here lately.” In more than one way. “I’m hoping to hang out with him more.”

His mother seemed relieved by this news. “Oh good!”

“So,” Ricky said, looking eagerly to his father, “what did you think of the CD-ROM drive?”

“Well,” Ken said, fighting down a smile. “It wasn’t just a reader. My company is using them to back-up our uncompiled databases.”

“What?!” Ricky exclaimed in excitement. “It can write CDs too? Those things cost a fortune!”

Ami sighed. “Doesn’t anyone want to ask about my day?”

“Nope!” Ricky said. But of course he did so right after.

By the time he helped clear the table, Ricky was desperate to go upstairs and boot up his own computer. “Mom,” he said, glancing meaningfully at the clock. “It’s the ninth.”

“So it is!” she said, not needing him to explain. “We’ll take care of the rest. Best of luck, Riku.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

He darted from the room and took the stairs two at a time. Once in his bedroom, he hit the power button on the desktop tower his father had helped him build. It wasn’t a multimedia PC, like he drooled over in the newspaper advertisements, so no CD-ROM drive or speakers. But it did have a 386 processor and a 4800 baud modem. As soon as he had a C: prompt, Ricky typed the command to switch directories to his dialing program. Then he selected a long-distance number for a BBS back in Colorado. The bulletin board system was owned by an accounting firm in Boulder, but none of their employees seemed to use it much. Only two people could dial in simultaneously, which made it the perfect place for a pair of young lovers to meet in secrecy. Which they always used to. But not so much anymore. Or at all.

Ricky’s heart was pounding as he listened to the screeching static of the modem connecting. Today was their special day. They always met on the ninth because that’s when it all began.Both their lives and their relationship. Ricky was born on April 9th. Jeremiah was born on December 9th. They had met on June 9th. And now it was the ninth month of the year, which made it even more special, because they used to dream about getting married on this date in 1999. Today was their pre-wedding anniversary.

The monitor screen slowly began to fill line by line with text. Before the login prompt, the system informed him that no other users were presently connected. He glanced at the clock. It was still a couple of minutes until their usual meeting time, so no big deal. Ricky typed the commands to navigate through the BBS interface. Then he entered the chat room and waited.

His thoughts drifted to Omar. He felt a pang of guilt, which was dumb, because he wasn’t dating Jeremiah anymore. Although it was more accurate to say that Jeremiah was no longer dating him. Ricky wasn’t over it yet. Even when half an hour passed and it became clear he wasn’t going to show. Just like he hadn’t shown all summer long and probably never would. Ricky hung up and threw himself on his bed. He closed his eyes and replayed everything that had happened with Omar. Getting to touch him. Being allowed to do even more. Omar was a sophomore. And handsome! Who cares if Jeremiah had moved on without him?

And yet, Ricky called the same BBS again at nine o’clock, and again when it was nine Rocky Mountain Time. The result was the same. He was alone in a chat room. Unwanted or forgotten. He wasn’t sure which. Maybe both. After he finally gave up and got into bed, he only thought of one person, while hoping against all odds that somewhere out there, Jeremiah was thinking of him too.

— — —

“We need to talk. After school.”

These words played on repeat in Anthony’s mind. Omar had spoken them first thing this morning, but not before dragging him away from the journalism classroom door. He kept walking down the hall and would have gone outside if Anthony hadn’t refused to leave through the exit.

“What’s going on?”he’d demanded.