Page 48 of Pride High 2: Orange

And he didn’t. Not the gory details. He only needed to know the most important part.

“He killed himself,” Diego said.

“What?” Ricky sounded shocked, as if a parent blowing their brains out was impossible. But it wasn’t. “Why?”

Diego gritted his teeth. “I don’t know. He left a letter, but my fucking mom won’t let me see it.”

“Maybe she’s trying to protect you,” Ricky suggested.

“From what?” Diego laughed without humor. “I’m the one who found his body.” The words slipped free before he could bite down on them, making him feel like he was going to black out. Maybe he wasn’t breathing right. That happened when he let himself think about it.

He remembered coming back from Omar’s house, where he was supposed to spend the night. They had gotten in trouble for dragging the garden hose inside so they could add water to the fish tank, but ended up making a big mess when they started goofing off, so he was sent home early. The sun was setting when he cut across the land behind the auto shop. That was when he saw his dad lying on the ground, like he had decided to take a nap in the afternoon sun. Diego had even laughed before running over to wake him. Except he couldn’t. No matter how hard he shook his father. When he’d seen the blood, Diego tried to convince himself it was from the Halloween aisle and part of a prank. Until he touched it. Then he knew for sure. He could still remember the way dried leaves had stuck to his father’s face, glued to the wound.

“When’s it finally going to snow?” Diego grumbled, kicking at the leaves on the ground.

Ricky just stared at him, his eyes magnified by the glasses he wore. “You found him?” he asked.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Diego snapped.

Ricky’s chin began to tremble, which was dumb, because it wasn’t his dad who had taken the easy way out. Before he could stop it from happening, the kid slammed into him. Diego hadn’t been hugged for so long that he was legitimately confused until Ricky began squeezing him.

“I’m so sorry,” he sniveled into Diego’s jacket. “That must have been horrible.” He stepped back to wipe at his nose. “And then I probably brought all the bad memories back when I tried to kill myself. I wish I would have known!”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Diego muttered.

Ricky shook his head. “I was being selfish. Iknewwhat it would do to my mom. I thought about it. But I still tried to kill myself.”

“How come?” Diego asked, latching on to the topic because he needed the truth. “I know what you said in your article, but my dad had friends. He had me! So why’d he—” His voice strangled to a halt, embarrassing him, so he swiped at the air and turned, walking a few paces away. “Explain it to me.”

“I felt… hopeless,” he heard Ricky say. “Like my life was as good as over. And when I thought of everyone it would hurt, that made me even more sad. Which didn’t help. None of it felt real until it actually started happening. I know how dumb that sounds. But sometimes I make stupid mistakes. Everyone does.”

“You think that’s what it was?” Diego said, turning to face him in genuine curiosity. “Like he was having a really shitty day and decided to put a bullet in his head rather than deal with it?”

“He shot himself?” Ricky asked, covering his mouth.

“Just tell me!” Diego barked.

Ricky looked surprised before he nodded. “Maybe. When I wanted to kill myself, I felt like there wasn’t any other option. Even though there were plenty. I just couldn’t see them at the time. Did your dad have a history of depression? I guess that’s not something parents tell their kids. I wish we could read his note.”

“That’s why I’m moving to El Paso,” Diego said. “My grandma knew him better than anyone.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Yeah, on the phone, but she always gives me this crap about God needing more angels.” Diego bared his teeth at the sky. “And if that’s true, then you’re going to need a new pair of eyes once I get up there, because I’m going to rip them the fuck out!” He returned his attention to the mortal plane, where Ricky was looking alarmed. “Not that I’ll ever make it up there.”

He walked over to his dad’s grave, took the Orange Crush bottle cap from his pocket, and pressed it into the dirt. Then he stood. “That’s why I wanna go to El Paso. When I’m living there and my grandma sees I’m not a kid anymore, then she’ll tell me. Anyway, that’s why I’m so damn pissed all the time. Now you know. Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He trudged toward the car, listening to Ricky scurry along behind him with a string of endless questions. “Why won’t your mom let you see the note? Because you were still a kid? Have you asked her recently? Hey, wait! Remember when your wrists were all messed up? How did that happen?”

Diego picked up the pace. Ricky finally took the hint and fell silent. At least until they made it to the car.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“I’m dropping you off.” Diego said, opening the driver-side door. “Then I’m going to work.”

“Can I come with you again?” Ricky asked after they were both seated inside.

“Notthatjob. The other one. Fixing cars.”