Page 21 of Pride High 2: Orange

“You would though, right?” Anthony replied. “If a position opens up, you have to tell me first. I want it so bad! Enough that I’m asking you to lie to my best friend.”

“I don’t think Omar would mind, once he figured out that it would be a different shift from mine.” Silvia reached for the lip gloss that she sometimes wore. She liked the subtle shimmer. “Are you really looking for work?”

“No,” Anthony said, shaking his head. Then he seemed to reconsider. “Although I probably should. I have to buy Cameron something for Christmas, and I have absolutely no idea what to get him.”

“We’re in the same boat,” Silvia said. “Or inflatable raft. Why does Omar’s birthday have to be so close to Christmas?”

“Mine isn’t too far away either,” Anthony said. “I was thinking of asking my parents for a Porsche. If I aim high, they might feel bad and get me a junker at the very least. I’m not picky.” He watched intently as she applied the lip gloss. The process seemed to interest him.

“Do you want to put some on?” she offered.

Anthony blinked before he laughed. “I wouldn’t know how.”

“It’s not brain surgery,” she said. “Come here.”

Anthony moved closer and seemed willing until she brought the applicator wand near. Then he flinched. “Is it easy to wash off? I can’t go home wearing that.”

“You’ll be fine,” she promised, loving the idea of getting to put makeup on a boy. He already wore nail polish and dyed his hair. Maybe he would enjoy this as well.

Anthony laughed when the applicator touched his lips. He held still as she moved the wand back and forth. This particular lip gloss was a gift from Mindy, so it had more pink pigment than she usually went for. Anthony’s lips were enviably luscious. When she pulled back to consider her work, her heart began beating faster.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Very pretty,” Silvia said, and she meant it too. The color matched the pink in his hair. “Wait,” she said when he started looking around for a mirror. She brought the applicator close to his mouth again, as if needing to adjust her work, even though it wasn’t necessary. She simply wanted another chance to touch his lips, even indirectly. His green eyes were searching hers with a hint of confusion, which was ironic, because all she felt was certainty.

Silvia wanted to kiss him.

“Okay,” she said, pulling her hand away when she noticed it trembling. “There’s a mirror in the bathroom.”

She followed him there, taking deep breaths so her heart would stop racing. Not that it helped. She watched Anthony stare at his own reflection. He seemed pleased until he sought her out in the mirror and noticed her expression. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Silvia nodded rapidly.

Anthony continued to study her before turning around. “We haven’t really talked about the whole gay thing,” he said, sounding vulnerable. “Are you okay with it?”

“Yes,” she said instantly. “Absolutely.”

And it was true, because she couldn’t act on these feelings. Silvia barely understood them. And they didn’t matter. Anthony was unavailable and uninterested, which was ideal, because otherwise…

She would have been tempted to break Omar’s heart.

* *December 1st, 1992* *

Mindy grabbed the lapels of a men’s department bathrobe and yanked on them, reminded briefly of a romance novel calledShowered with Affectionthat involved a wounded soldier and the nurse who helped him overcome his trauma, one steamy bathing session at a time. She eyed the boy in the robe who was standing in front of her, trying to see him through a haze of passion, but it was no good. Douglas was tall, which she liked, but had poor personal hygiene, which she didn’t enjoy. His height and deep rumbling voice had landed him the role of the Beast in her theater group’s upcoming production.

Mindy had worried, after nearly a week-long break from rehearsals, that everyone would forget their lines. But on her second day back, she was feeling optimistic. Yesterday’s rehearsals had gone well. Today they were running through it all again, this time in full costume.

Whitney—their giggling Belle—was twirling nearby in the dress that Mindy had altered. Now that it was shorter, she was able to move around easier. Which was giving Keisha a serious headache, since she was in charge of choreography. There was no slowing Whitney down. She was all over the place, even when running scenes.

“This costume is too warm,” Douglas complained.

“It’s all the layers,” Mindy explained. “We had to bulk you up. How much weight can you gain in two weeks?”

“I dunno,” Douglas replied, “but I’d probably sweat it off again while wearing this getup.”

She pressed her lips together, wishing he would at least acknowledge how regal she’d managed to make him appear on a shoestring budget. Sure, it involved multiple layers of robes and strips of taped-on aluminum foil, but from the auditorium seats, he looked royal enough. She still felt they should’ve cast someone else to play the prince after the curse was broken. Cameron, perhaps. Douglas didnothave a princely vibe. Nor was he terribly menacing as the Beast, despite her best efforts.

“Act one, scene eight!” shouted their teacher, Ms. Deville. “Show me what you’ve got!”