Page 149 of Pride High 2: Orange

She didn’t worry about Troy as she went up the walkway to her house. When she reached her front door and turned around, Diego was still parked in the driveway. Mindy found herself wishing that she was a gay guy and had just gone on a date with him instead. Although as she went inside and up to her room, she only felt like crying. Which is exactly what she did.

CHAPTER 33

January 10th, 1993

Silvia was making out with Omar on his bed while trying very hard to concentrate on that fact, when in reality she kept thinking about Keisha, all the doubts she’d sown, how his breath tasted like the bubble gum toothpaste that Hugo preferred, and how they seemed to be listening to a mixtape of heavy metal ballads. Did Omar put that together for this occasion, or was there some dreadful compilation that she’d never heard of before? She was relieved when the tape clicked and went silent.

Omar straightened his arms, pushed himself up, and grinned down at her. “Let me flip that baby over and I’ll be right back,” he said.

He rolled off the bed and strolled over to the stereo. Silvia tried to get herself in the mood while he was busy. She didn’t have to work today. Omar’s parents were out with his sister. His grandma was napping. They had only each other to focus on, which should have been easy. If she was infatuated with him.

A cloying ballad by Mötley Crüe began to play. Omar turned around. She let her eyes move over his body. His chest was pushing against the T-shirt he wore, which she found alluring. But only because she was attracted to girls? He did have nice tits for a guy. Although she liked the roundness of his biceps too, and those weren’t very feminine. Neither was the bulge in his pants.

“Sorry,” Omar said, reaching down to adjust himself. “This thing has a mind of its own.”

“Really?” Silvia asked. “You can’t control it at all?”

“Not really. It helps if I try thinking of something else. But not always. Oh! But I can make it bounce. When it’s out in the open.” Hope filled his face. “Do you want to see?”

She kind of did, if only to find out if she liked it or not. Which is exactly what Keisha had suggested she try. Silvia trusted Omar enough to back off if she wasn’t into it. Unlike the jerk that Mindy had gone on a date with. Silvia had been up half the night talking to her about the whole messy affair while trying to offer what solace she could. She didn’t worry about that kind of scenario with Omar. He was trustworthy. And she wanted to repay that trust by not using him, so she asked, “Do youwantto show me?”

“Yeah!” Omar said with a chuckle before he forced away his levity. “But only if it doesn’t freak you out.”

“Okay.”

He stared at her for a moment. “Really?”

“Sure!”

Silvia sat up so she could see better. He was standing next to the bed and clawing at his jeans to get them open, although he hesitated after he got them unbuttoned and unzipped.

“Should I just whip it out?” he asked in confusion.

Silvia shrugged. “No idea. Let me see your underwear. Are those boxers?”

“Yeah,” Omar said, shimming down his jeans. His boxers were black, of course. She finally understood where the term “pitching a tent” came from, because it did look like a pole had been erected inside them. One that soon began to bounce.

“You weren’t kidding!” Silvia said after laughing.

“Nope,” Omar replied proudly. “I practice sometimes. It’s like any other muscle. Do you still want to see the rest?”

She really did! Silvia reached out, grabbed one leg of his boxers, and slowly pulled downward. Which seemed to cause him discomfort until something sprang out. Silvia stared in fascination. She had seen her little brother naked plenty of times, and on a few unfortunate occasions, accidentally walked in on her dad when he was undressed. Those fleeting glimpses had been of something small and harmless, like a slumbering mouse.

Omar’s was much more intimidating, like a miniature baseball bat that only seemed to get bigger as it flexed. And as strange as it looked, she was kind of into the whole thing. Especially the toothy grin he wore when making it bounce again.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I like it,” she admitted.

“Do you want to touch it?”

“I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“It’s easy. I’ll show you.”

And with that, he spit into one of his hands and took hold of himself. She watched him slide his fist up and down and felt warmth build between her legs.

“Basically like that,” Omar said, letting go of himself. “Wanna try?”