Page 178 of Pride High 3: Yellow

“He’s super sad, but don’t worry. We’ll keep a close eye on him. As much as we can while he’s grounded, anyway.”

“Good,” she said. “I owe him an apology.”

Omar shrugged. “Or just an explanation. I think you’ve still got credit to burn with him. I mean, youdidsave his life. And when it comes to Keisha, I’m over it. Really. None of that bothers me. But you really should figure out if you want to be with her or not.”

“I know who I want,” Silvia said, longing to touch him. But she didn’t. “That just leaves us. Where do we stand?”

Omar took a deep breath. “Can we start over?” he asked. “As friends.”

Silvia’s felt her heart wilt. “Is that what you need?”

“Yeah,” Omar said. “I just wanna take it slow and let stuff happen naturally. Let’s get to know each other. And if we find that same spark, we’ll start again from a better place.”

She had often wished that Omar was more mature. And now that he was… well, maybe she had some catching up to do. “I’d like that,” Silvia told him. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

“Hey, I’m on my second or third chance with you, so it’s no problem.”

He was terribly handsome when smiling at her, but she resisted the urge kiss him. Silvia respected his decision. But if he found some other girl, it wouldn’t be easy to get over, because she really did love the boy.

“Five more minutes!” their teacher declared. “Finalize those ideas!”

“Crap,” she hissed.

“I know,” Omar murmured, glancing toward the teacher’s desk. “I really want those candy bars.”

“I’ve got my eyes on the chips. Did you see what kind they are? Funyuns! And now that I’m single again, I can eat them without worrying about onion breath.”

“We’ll win them, babe.” Omar balked. “I mean, my friend. What sort of business do you wish existed? Name anything.”

“Relationship counseling, but for teenagers.”

“Yes! Or just dating advice, because nobody in their right mind is going to ask a teacher.”

“Or their own parents,” she said, nodding her agreement.

“So the people giving the advice would have to be teenagers?” Omar asked. “Would there be any point then? Because we could ask our friends instead, and they’re just as clueless as we are.”

“College kids!” Silvia said, struck by inspiration. “They’re cool!”

“Super cool! And they would actually remember what it was like to be us.” Omar grinned victoriously. “That junk food is basically ours! We make a good team, huh?”

“We definitely have potential,” she said, leaving the statement open to interpretation.

“Who wants to go first?” their teacher asked.

Silvia smiled at her former boyfriend, whose eyes shined back at her in response. Then they walked together toward the front of class.

— — —

Ricky’s every waking moment was filled with regret. And it all came from inside. His parents were being ridiculously kind. He was grounded to the house, and being dropped off and picked up from school like before, but they didn’t lecture him about how foolish his behavior had been. They seemed too happy to have him back. He’d only been gone a little over twenty-four hours. Now he could imagine just how distraught his parents would have been had he gone to El Paso and never come back. Which made him feel like he’d done the right thing, and yet…

He had lost so much. Ricky couldn’t stop thinking of Diego, yearning and aching for him in equal measure. The knowledge that he’d hurt his boyfriend in the worst way possible, by abandoning him like so many others had—whether intentionally or not—was unceasing torture. Ricky agonized over what he’d done, which made focusing on anything else impossible. Even his own fate.

His parents kept sitting down with him to talk strategy. In just a few days, Ricky would report to the Juvenile Intake and Assessment Center, the name alone enough to make him shiver. He had thought of another option since Diego dropped him off. They could have done time together. A frightening prospect, but with Diego at his side… Maybe they would have shared a cell, instead of never seeing each other again. Diego must be in El Paso by now. Ricky didn’t think he'd ever return. What did he have to come back to? A bunch of people who had hurt him over and over again?

Ricky stared unseeing at the kitchen table where he sat with his parents. He had cleared away the dishes after the meal was over, wanting to show his gratitude toward them. That was one silver lining of running away. He appreciated his parents more now, especially since not everyone was so lucky. He had a good family. Currently they were poring over paperwork and booklets they had picked up from the courthouse, trying to prepare for what was to come. He was watching his mother take notes on a yellow legal pad when the doorbell rang.

They all tensed. Detective Truman had been by a few times now, always with the same question and thinly veiled threat. He wanted to know where Diego was, and if they couldn’t produce him, promised that it would make matters worse. Ricky didn’t buckle. Even his parents didn’t know where they had planned to go. It was a final gift, a last sacrifice, in the hopes that Diego would be left alone and happy in his new life.