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They had entered the kitchen. Omar went to the refrigerator, grabbed a Dr Pepper for himself, and poured a glass of iced tea for Silvia without needing to ask. Everywhere they went together, that’s what she ordered. He thought it was a nice touch having it ready for her today. He’d even chopped up a lemon earlier since she liked her tea served with a slice.

“Oh thanks!” she said when he placed it in front of her. Silvia was sitting at the breakfast bar on the other side of the kitchen’s central island. “You have areallybig house,” she added.

“I’m just renting it, so don’t get attached,” Omar joked, noticing that Mamani was out on the deck and reading again. “Does your grandma also like to embarrass you?”

Silvia frowned. “Not really. But then I’ve only ever talked to her on the phone.”

Omar stared. “Seriously? Why’s that?”

“She lives in Mexico.”

“Yeah, but can’t you go visit her? Or why doesn’t she come up here?”

Silvia took a sip before answering. “It’s a long and expensive flight.”

“Oh. I wonder if my parents could help. They have a bunch of airline miles. I don’t think they use them much. They promised to fly Anthony and me down to Florida for spring break when we start college. And once we turn twenty-one. Which is like a million years away. I’d rather you get to meet your grandma. Hey, what about your grandpa? Or your grandma on the other side?”

“Maybe someday,” Silvia said tersely.

“I’ve been thinking of getting a job,” he continued. “If we both save up—”

“Omar.” Silvia had her eyebrows raised in a very gentle warning.

“Sorry. I just want you to be happy.”

She studied him a moment before the tension drained from her. “Thanks. It’s very sweet of you. Right now, I just want to focus on hanging out together.”

“Yeah! I’m super hyped. Grab your drink and let’s keep going. I’ll show you my room.”

He walked her through other areas of the house, but she didn’t seem interested, going by how quiet she became. Although she did seem to appreciate his bedroom when they got there.

“This is really nice!” she said. And then, in a voice dripping with envy, she asked, “Is that a private bathroom?”

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly. Usually it was his favorite place to dump his dirty clothes and wet towels, but he’d made sure to clean in there this morning as well. “My sister keeps threatening to poison me, just so she can have my room.”

“What about your grandma?”

“The entire basement is hers. It’s set up like an apartment down there. If she ever dies—and I hope she nevereverdoes—then I’m totally claiming it.”

Silvia was watching him with a subtle smile. He could tell when he amused her, despite not always knowing the exact reason why. Omar walked over and gave her a peck on the lips. “It’s really cool that you’re here.”

“Thanks,” Silvia said. “It’s nice getting away from everything.”

They talked a little longer, Silvia asking him about various things in his room. The photos mostly. Eventually they settleddown to watch TV, sitting in the canvas chairs, like he always did with Anthony. Except it felt like she was too far away, so he scooted his chair over. And then tugged on hers to drag it nearer, almost making her tip over in the process, but she laughed. Soon they were close enough to hold hands, which he took full advantage of once the VCR was humming.

Silvia had borrowed a movie from work to show him:Pink Flamingos,directed by John Waters. Omar wasn’t interested. He would rather stare at her for the next ninety minutes. Although it didn’t take long for the movie to suck him in, because it was absolutely bizarre. Everyone in it looked strange and behaved even weirder. The main character was a violent drag queen called Divine, and she certainly lived up to the name. Omar was transfixed by her appearance. It was easy to forget she was a man at all. Divine wasn’t generically pretty, but she still had a certain vibe that he found intriguing. She gave one hell of a performance too. He laughed and groaned in equal measure. If circus freaks took over Hollywood, this was the kind of movie they would make. And he loved it! By the time the credits were rolling, he had seen things he’d never imagined and would have thought impossible.

“That wasn’trealdog poop,” he said. “Was it?”

“You saw where it came from,” Silvia replied as she shook with laughter. “The singing butthole always gets me.”

The two scenes weren’t related, thank goodness.

“That was amazing.” Omar said as he crouched in front of the VCR. He hit the button to rewind the tape, which it did noisily. “I’ve finally seen a John Waters movie! I’ve heard people mention his name in interviews before, but man… I never expected anything like that. How did he ever get it past the censors?”

“I’m not sure,” Silvia said as she stood and stretched. “Maybe he never did. But I do know that he didn’t have the backing of a studio when starting out. He just scraped some cash together, found some willing friends, and started filming. That’s why I wanted you to see it. Besides all the other reasons.”

“Like the egg man?” he said with a grin.