Page 177 of Pride High 3: Yellow

May 24th, 1993

Silvia didn’t feel hopeful when entering the business finances classroom, certain at this point that she no longer had a boyfriend. Omar had declined to hang out with herandhis best friend over the weekend, which was as sure a sign as any. So she was surprised when Omar perked up as she walked into the room. He even managed an uncertain smile, which was all it took to make her heart yearn to be near him. It practically dragged her across the room in his direction. The bell rang before she could get there, so she took a seat, which—annoyingly—was closer to the front than his desk and in a different row.

The final week of school was a short one. A mere three days. That was welcome, but also seemed unnecessary, since they had already taken their final tests. Nobody was in the mood to learn anything new. Even the faculty seemed to share in this apathy.

“Okay class,” their teacher said, clearly winging it. “Let’s review uh… No. How about this? For the first half of the period, why don’t you all choose a partner and come up with a pitch for a new business idea.”

Silvia turned around and was relieved when she saw Omar raise his eyebrows, as if asking if she was interested. And she most definitely was.

“For the second half,” the teacher continued, “you’ll each present your ideas to the class. We’ll take a vote, and whoever wins will get—” He opened his desk drawer and took out a bag of chips, candy bars, and a couple cans of pop. “—some junk food that I can’t bring home or my wife will kill me. Sound good?”

The class murmured their agreement. Silvia looked in Omar’s direction again and saw him give a thumbs up. Although he was more sheepish when she approached.

“Hey,” he said as he stood. “Do you wanna be partners?”

“Of course!” she replied. “Don’t you?”

The question was loaded. He averted his eyes and dragged a freshly abandoned desk close to his. He kept arranging it, turning the desk this way and that, like he was trying to find the best way for them to sit together. Which was appropriately symbolic, but driving her crazy.

“Hey,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “Can we talk about it all?”

“Here?” he asked, glancing around.

Everyone else had partnered up and were openly conversing.

“I’ve gotta know one way or the other,” Silvia said, sitting on the surface of the desk he had pulled near.

Omar sat on his own. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve just been thinking a bunch.”

Silvia shook her head. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve put you through so much.”

“You were just trying to protect your family. And figure out who you are.”

“I could have done it differently. I should have been more open with you.”

“Nah, you were right,” Omar replied. “Just because you have feelings for someone, doesn’t mean that you should.”

That stung, but she deserved it. “I know it’ll take time to build trust again—” she began to say.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Omar reached for her hand before he seemed to second-guess himself. “I talked to Mamani about some of this and she thinks it’s normal. Feelings come first. The rest comes later. Including trust and openness or whatever. So it’s good you were cautious until we got to know each other better.”

“I should have trusted you sooner,” Silvia insisted. “I keep thinking about what happened with Ricky, and you’re right. After I gave the hospital a fake name and left, I had nothing to fear. I should have gone to your house and told you right away.”

“And I would have blabbed to Ricky about how great my girlfriend was for saving him, and everyone would have known that it was you.” Omar ran a hand through his black mane of hair, his expression friendly. “It’s not like you knew me well enough back then to explain why you wanted to keep a low profile. Right?”

“I guess not,” she said before reassessing him. “You know, if the film career doesn’t pan out, maybe you should be a lawyer.”

Omar laughed. “Hey, I’ve been talking myself out of trouble since I was born. And trust me, I’m usually not very good at it. But for real, I don’t hold any of it against you. Ricky might, but I think he should get over it, because you did a good thing for him.”

She felt relieved, but not much. “Can we talk about the rest?”

“You mean Keisha?” Omar gnawed on his bottom lip before nodding.

“Thatwas wrong,” Silvia said. “I shouldn’t have kissed anyone else—even a girl—and when I did, I should have told you. Ricky asked me if I was going to. Afreshmanknew what to do, which shows that you can’t judge someone’s maturity by their age.”

“He’s wise beyond his years,” Omar said with a grin. “You heard that he’s back?”

“Yes! How is he doing?”