Page 20 of The Golden Boy’s Guide to Bipolar

The next day, just before Jamal is supposed to pick me up for his open mic, dread fills my stomach at the realization that

I can’t go. I can’t hang out with him anymore. I can’t do any of it.

I haven’t spoken to Jamal or Yami since last night, not that either of them have tried. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jamal didn’t

show up to pick me up at all. Then again, it’s Yami I’m more worried about, because Jamal hasn’t been expecting us to get

back together since we talked about it.

Instead of waiting for him to pick me up, I leave the house just in time so that when he gets there—if he even comes—I’ll

be gone.

I make a run for it from my room—where I’ve been hiding all day—so I don’t have to bump into Yami either.

“I’m going out,” I call to my mom, then slip out the door before she can respond.

But just as I make it off the driveway, the rumble of Jamal’s engine gets louder as his truck appears turning right onto our

street.

Without thinking, I dive behind the nearest bush and wait as Jamal gets out of his truck and walks toward our front door. I hold my breath as he rings the doorbell. It opens just moments later, and I can hear my mom’s surprised voice answer him.

“I thought you and Cesar just left?”

“No, I just got here. He left?” Jamal asks, sounding hurt.

“He just left, I’m sorry. He couldn’t have gone far, though. Maybe you can catch up to him?”

I peek from behind the bush to see Jamal turning around to look down the street, as if trying to solve the mystery of where

I went. Then he gets out his phone, types something, and presses it to his ear.

Shit.

My phone starts vibrating way too loudly, right here behind the bush. I rush to silence it, but it’s too late. Jamal walks

up to the bush, a confused look on his face.

I guess there’s no avoiding him now. I stand up and brush myself off, not knowing what to say. I expect him to be like “Question.

Why are you avoiding me?” but instead he just states the obvious.

“That was weird.” For some reason, I’m annoyed that all he has to say about this is that it’s weird. What I did with Bianca

could be described a lot of ways, but “weird” wouldn’t be my first choice.

“Why?” I start defensively. “We’re not together, I can hook up with whoever I want. It’s not weird .”

There’s a hurt look in his eyes for a tiny fraction of a second before he nods. “That’s true. I was talking about you being

in a bush. That was weird.”

“Right...” I sigh. I guess the truth will get the job done. “I was avoiding you.”

Jamal’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Why?”

I clench my jaw, trying to figure out how to say what I need to say to get him to leave me alone.

“Did I do something to upset you?” he asks. “I won’t know unless you tell me.”

“Look, I don’t want to go to your stupid thing, okay?” I blurt out, and he takes a step back.

“My stupid thing...” He repeats the words like they’re in a different language, pushing his glasses up his nose.

I just stand my ground, holding my breath. I can’t bear to say anything else to him, but I can’t take back what I’ve already

said. If what happened at the party with Bianca didn’t do it, I need another way to get Jamal to see me for the horrible person

I am. Need to get him to leave me alone, so he won’t feel guilty when something happens to me.

“Understood,” he finally says and walks back to his truck without another word. It’s a subtle, but noticeable, change from

his usual “I understand.” More distant. Which can only be a good thing—for him, at least.

I run back in the house and into my room, ignoring my mom’s questions and slamming the door behind me.

I stay in my room until the next morning, when my alarm goes off to take my meds. I don’t even know how long it’s been since

I stopped taking them. A week? A month? Time doesn’t really mean anything to me anymore.

I’m not trying to cross paths with Yami, so I rush out to pretend to take my meds, then head back into hiding until it’s time to go. When I finally have to leave my room again and go to the car, I almost shit myself at Yami standing right in front of my door when I open it.

I’m expecting her to tear into me, but she looks more hurt than angry. My eyes shoot to the floor.

“Isn’t that jaguar necklace you’re always wearing supposed to be for facing fears? You can’t even look me in the eye. Fine

then...”

She doesn’t give me the chance to say anything back, because she turns around and walks down the hall toward the car before

I can process what she said.

I look over to my desk, where the jaguar necklace, the cross necklace, and the promise ring Jamal gave me last year are all

sitting. Yami’s right. I definitely don’t have the right to wear any of those things anymore. Instead of staring at them,

I rush over and yank the desk drawer open, then take all three pieces of jewelry and throw them inside, on top of my abandoned

poetry notebook, so I never have to look at them again.

When I get in the car, I sit in the front seat and blast music loud enough that I won’t be able to hear anything else Yami

says to me. Who cares if she’s right? I can avoid her all I want.

I don’t even bother going to my usual table at lunch. Well, not my table—Yami’s table. Instead, I sit with Jeremy and his friends, and I joke around with them and laugh when it’s expected.

I don’t allow myself so much as a glance in Yami’s direction, and I hope she’s not glancing in mine either.

It’s hard enough to be in the same building as her at lunch, but in English, I have to sit next to one of her best friends,

who probably hates me now.

“Hey, you okay, bro?” David asks.

I squint at him. Did Yami not tell him what I did? Or maybe she did, and she’s using David to try to get information out of

me? Well, she’s not getting any. “Yeah, I’m good,” I say nonchalantly.

Then, just as class is about to start, Mrs. Perry gets a call from her desk. When she hangs up, she looks right at me.

“Cesar, you’re wanted in Principal Cappa’s office.”

A chorus of hushed ooooo s rings out, but Mrs. Perry just looks at me expectantly. I’ve never been sent to the principal’s office, no matter how many

times I’ve gotten detention. I couldn’t have dipped below the scholarship threshold, right? No, I turned in my late homework,

so that can’t be it.

“Mr. Flores,” Mrs. Perry says, reminding me that she’s waiting for me to leave to start her lesson.

I pretend I’m not bothered as I get up and head out the door. The walk to Principal Cappa’s office is excruciating as I try

to figure out what could be going on.

Maybe Mami found out about what I did and she’s taking me out of school for the rest of the day so she can kill me?

When I finally get there, the office lady tells me to have a seat until Principal Cappa’s ready for me. I sit and bounce my

legs, resisting the urge to get out my phone and text Jamal, since he probably wants nothing to do with me now. Which is good.

That’s what I wanted. Right?

“He’s ready for you,” the secretary says, and I get up on wobbly legs, not bothering to appear confident anymore since there’s no one to perform for.

But as soon as I reach for the handle, I regain my composure.

It’s like an instinct for me around adults to be as charming as possible.

It’s worked out for me most of my life, so I’m not about to stop anytime soon.

“Hey, Principal Cappa,” I say cheerily as I open the door and walk in, but the charming facade vanishes the second I see who’s

in the room. “Mom?”

“Have a seat, Cesar,” Principal Cappa says, and my mom nods to acknowledge me. She looks pale, like she just got food poisoning

or something.

I sit in the empty seat next to my mom. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sure you’re aware we have a no-tolerance policy when it comes to illegal activities.” Mr. Cappa turns to his computer

and types for a second, then tilts the screen toward me.

Oh. Fuck.

The picture of me and Bianca kissing the tequila bottle is pulled up on my Instagram. Bianca must have posted it and added

me as a collaborator, and I must have accepted like a dumbass. I don’t remember doing that. Why would I do that? Bianca probably

didn’t think twice about posting it, but this is Slayton. Here, people have no shame about snitching, so it was only a matter

of time before the administration got ahold of that picture.

“He’s a good kid, Principal Cappa. It won’t happen again,” my mom pleads, and he looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Is that true, Cesar?”

I just shrug. I don’t care to lie right now, so I don’t. “It’s not like I was drinking on campus. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that by attending this establishment, you are representing this school and our values whether you’re on our campus or

not. Not only that, but we’re paying you to do it. Cesar, I’m afraid I can’t let this go unpunished.”

“Please, he’s worked so hard for his spot here. He’s been at the top of his class every year since he started high school

until... well, he’s been through a lot recently. Trust me, you’ve never met a harder-working kid.”

I let out an involuntary laugh at my mom’s inability to see what’s right in front of her. Since when was I a hard worker?

I got good grades because it was easy , not because I tried. Both she and the principal look at me like they expect me to say something, but I just clear my throat

like I didn’t just laugh out loud at my mom.

“I promise you he won’t do anything like this again,” Mami continues, her voice more desperate now.

Mine comes out like ice. “You can’t make promises for me.”

She shoots a fierce glare in my direction. She probably is gonna kill me, but I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it. Mami turns back to Principal Cappa. “Obviously he’s not himself

right now. You can see that, can’t you? If you just give him another chance—”

“You can’t fix everything for me!” I snap, surprising all three of us. “I don’t need you to fight my battles! That perfect