Page 160 of Pride High 3: Yellow

Diego felt the same reluctance as before, although it wasn’t a revelation. He didn’t like the idea of being away from Ricky. At all. But there was more to it than that. He just hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Nah. I don’t think his parents trust me enough.”

Keisha smirked. “That must drive him wild.”

“How come?”

“Because forbidden love is the best kind.” Keisha sounded awfully sure of herself. And maybe she had good reason to be. Since they had started this little arrangement, they tended to keep things professional. If that could be said about two teenagers who were growing and selling their own weed. But some of those barriers had eroded as they spent more time together in the theater group. That must have been on Keisha’s mind too, because she brought it up.

“So was this year the beginning of your career on stage?” she asked.

“No idea,” he replied. “I feel like I got suckered into it.”

“But you enjoyed yourself,” she stated rather than asking.

He answered anyway. “Yeah. Maybe not the plays so much…” The people were all right though. He felt the same reluctance about leaving town, which was dumb, because he wouldn’t see any of the theater kids until the end of summer no matter what.

“Well you have more fans than you probably realize,” Keisha said, pushing herself away from the desk. “And you wouldn’t be the only person who is mostly there to socialize.”

Diego crossed his arms over his chest. “Who said anything about that?”

Keisha smiled. “Nobody. Certainly not you.”

He eyed her a moment before walking over to the safe. He took out a short stack of cash that he’d set aside for her. “How come you do this anyway?” he asked. “Your family has that big ass farm. You can’t be hurting for money.”

“And your family has this shop,” she said. “But you still have your reasons, I’m sure.”

“Yeah.”

“So do I,” Keisha said enigmatically. She folded and pocketed the money. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m supposed to pick up Mindy so we can have a sleepover on that ‘big ass’ farm of mine.”

Diego snorted. “Tell her I said...” He thought about it and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know,” Keisha replied.

They were leaving the office when he noticed his mom talking to one of the new mechanics. The guy with a face like hot puke on a sizzling sidewalk, so he wasn’t worried. His mom noticed him too. Marti walked over as Keisha got into her SUV.

“Who was that?” she asked. “I hope you’re not two-timing on that other girl.”

“It’s nothin’ like that,” he replied.

“Good,” Marti grumbled. “I can’t stand a cheater.”

They stood in silence and watched the Bronco drive away.

“So is she a friend?” Marti asked.

The question took him off guard, because it had been a long time since he’d had any. The occasional girlfriend, but not anactualfriend, like the kind he used to know. He wasn’t sure if Keisha counted. Then again, they kept each other’s secret, and had an ongoing relationship of sorts. Maybe it wasn’t all business anymore. And when he thought of Mindy, who had gone out of her way to involve him in the play, and to keep Diego in it even when he got suspended… That sure seemed like the sort of thing a friend would do. Keisha hadn’t gone to those lengths, but he knew he could trust her. “Yeah,” he said at last. “I guess she is.”

“Good,” Marti said. “I figure things have to get better eventually. Don’t they?”

The question wasn’t rhetorical. Not for people like them. They had gone through so much bad shit over the years, from his father’s death, to her breakdown, and a slew of trouble that he’d gotten himself into since. She didn’t know the half of it. But he felt like telling her now. Which was weird, because usually he just disappeared. He never stopped worrying about her though. Not really, because losing one parent had been bad enough. If there was one thing that kept him here…

The reluctance hit home. His mom was the reason why. And always had been, or he would have left ages ago. He wondered if he should tell her about the mess he’d gotten himself into. Or if it was better to blow hot air up her ass about how peachy the future was going to be. He didn’t know how to fix her, or keep her sane, so he kept to the simple truth.

“I don’t know.”

“Me neither,” Marti replied. “But I do know that I need a beer.”