Page 56 of Pride High 3: Yellow

“Hey, it’s your car,” Joe said. “Do what you want! Just be careful. If you wreck it, we won’t fix it. That’ll be your responsibility. Cars cost money, even after you’ve paid them off.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised. And he meant it, because he was already dizzy with newfound freedom. He’d be able to go anywhere, whenever he wanted! Hell, he could even park and sleep in the back seat if need be, like a mobile hotel room. Speaking of which, he couldn’t wait to show Cameron.

“Thanks, Dad!” Anthony said as they walked toward the house.

“My pleasure, son.” Joe patted him on the back on the way inside.

“Do you like it?” Anthony’s mother asked when meeting them in the entryway. She seemed just as insecure about the choice of car.

“I love it,” he assured her, raving about his favorite details before he went downstairs.

To his surprise, the party was jumping. As in, people were literally jumping around and dancing to the B-52s while Fred Schneider sang about shaking his comic thing. His voice had an edge of queerness to it, making Anthony wonder if he was gay too. He intended to ask Silvia, before noticing that she’d been coaxed out into the middle of the floor by Omar, whose entire body was gyrating to the rhythm. Anthony stared for a moment—because the boy sure had moves!—until Cameron appeared at his side.

“Got a moment?” he asked.

Anthony raised an eyebrow flirtatiously. “For what?”

“I want to give you your present. Somewhere private.”

Anthony shook his head. “Why does everyone keep doing that?”

“Gee, I don’t know.” Cameron fought against a smile before continuing. “Maybe because you’re picky and opinionated?”

“Oh stop,” Anthony said, thwapping him playfully. “I just take my interests seriously.”

“I like a guy who knows what he wants,” Cameron said. “But I really am nervous about this one. Can we go to your room?”

“I have a better idea.”

Anthony led him outside. Cameron was just as excited about the car.

“No more having to borrow my mom’s station wagon!”

“Definitely not. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. You’ve given me and the others enough rides. It’s my turn. Although I might need to bum some gas money off you on occasion, until I get a job.”

“Aren’t you gainfully employed already?” Cameron asked as they got inside. “I thought you were a big shot reporter for a local paper.”

“It’s true,” Anthony said with an intentionally vain air. “But I do it because I’m passionate about my work. Which is good, because they can’t afford to pay me.” The only money he made was fifty bucks in store credit from Right Round Records each month, for the music reviews he wrote. “What do you think?” he asked, nodding to the back seat.

“Plenty of room for love,” Cameron said with a smile, although his expression became more somber as he took a flat envelope out of his jacket pocket. “What did Omar give you for your birthday? A bag of dead bugs?”

“Huh?” Anthony laughed. “No, we only do the gross-out presents for Christmas. He made me a greatest hits video of our best sketches and home movies.”

Cameron swore under his breath. “That’s a great idea.”

Anthony eyed him for a moment. “It’s not a competition.”

“I know. It’s just…” Cameron sighed and handed him the envelope. “I want points for trying.”

Anthony was puzzled. The envelope wasn’t the standard greeting card size. It was longer, like something you’d get in the mail. He opened it and took out the contents. As he unfolded a sheet of paper, two tickets fluttered down to his lap.

“What’s this?” Anthony asked. “Concert tickets?”

“Yes,” Cameron answered hurriedly, “but not for one of your favorite bands. I really tried too. Omar was the one who suggested the idea, because he said—”

“That I’ve never been to a concert,” Anthony finished for him. “Which makes me feel like a fraud, because music is supposed to be my thing.”

“Not in so many words, but yes. I teamed up with Silvia when choosing a band. Morrissey isn’t touring. Neither is The Cure.”