Page 35 of The Golden Boy’s Guide to Bipolar

I straggle a little behind everyone else after group to avoid Avery. By the time I get to the lobby, the only one in there

is Hunter, waiting to pick me up like we talked about.

“Yoooo, he’s alive!” Hunter stands up and yanks me into a handshake hug.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I say as we start making our way outside.

“I feel that.” He laughs, and I wonder if he really does or if he thinks we’re joking. “So how you been, bro?”

Ah, he is joking. Otherwise he wouldn’t be asking me that. “Fine, you?”

“Can’t complain, can’t complain,” he says as the motion-sensored doors open for us.

Unfortunately, Avery hasn’t left the parking lot.

Neither have Zo or Aaron, and they’re all just standing there talking.

Avery spots us as we get a little closer and gives me an awkward wave.

I don’t want Hunter asking any questions, so I give him a nod.

“Hey, Cesar, we’re gonna get food right now, want to come?” Zo asks, waving me over.

“Sorry, I got plans,” I say, gesturing at Hunter.

“Oh, your friend can come too if he wants,” Aaron adds. “I’m Aaron, by the way, nice to meet you.” He holds his hand out for

Hunter to shake, all formal. “This is Zo, and Avery.”

“Hunter,” Hunter says as he takes Aaron’s hand awkwardly. “Is that cool with you?” he asks me. I hate being put on the spot,

so I just shrug.

“Okay, then I’m down! Do you guys need a ride? I have a five-seater.”

Avery looks surprised at the offer, his eyes bouncing between me and Hunter. “Uh, is that okay?”

“Of course! Any friend of Cesar’s is a friend of mine.”

Avery raises an eyebrow at me, and I want nothing more than to spontaneously combust right this second. If either of them

remembers the other from Jamal’s open mic at that Christian coffee shop, they don’t show it.

“Aren’t you on probation?” is all I find myself asking. I know if I say anything else now, Hunter will want to know why I

don’t want to hang out with Avery, and I’m not about to get into that.

“Yeah, but I can stop for food and stuff on my way home. I just can’t stay out too long. But I don’t have to go if—”

“It’s fine, let’s just go,” I interrupt before he can give anyone here more information about me than I’m comfortable with.

“Oh... okay. Um, thanks,” Avery says quickly as we all make our way to Hunter’s car. I hop in the front, and everyone else files into the back.

“We were thinking about getting In-N-Out. Is that cool with you guys?” Zo asks.

“In-N-Out, got it,” Hunter says as he turns on his music and pulls out of the parking lot. It’s some obscure indie band I’ve

never heard of, but Hunter’s singing like no one’s around to judge.

Zo and Aaron have a sort of conversation in the back while me and Avery silently pretend this is no big deal. It isn’t until

the song is over that Avery says anything.

“Okay, I can’t not say something about this,” he starts, and I hold my breath, trying to telepathically will him to shut the

fuck up. “Were you just listening to Let’s All Die Now?”

I let out my breath, relieved he’s just talking about the music and not our old shit. I don’t bother looking back at Avery

when he talks, but he sounds both shocked and thrilled.

“Wait, you know them?” Hunter practically squeals. I guess they’re both shocked and thrilled.

“What are they called again?” Zo asks, sounding a little concerned. I was kind of wondering the same thing, since the music

doesn’t sound all that emo. It sounds more hype than anything.

“Let’s All Die Now,” Hunter answers. “But it’s not what you think! The actual name is Let’s All Die N.I.A.H.W., which is short

for ‘naturally in a healthy way,’ but everyone just says now.”

Personally, I’d prefer the “now,” but instead I just say, “Cool.”

“Did you know they’re in town this weekend?” Hunter asks Avery. It kind of feels like Hunter and Avery just transported into

another reality where it’s just the two of them and this music.

“Don’t fuck with me, really?”

“I’m serious! I’ll send you the info, here, put your number in.” Hunter pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it back

to Avery without taking his eyes off the road. I actually want to puke.

If Hunter, as one of the only friends I have left, has Avery’s number now, who knows what those two will say about me? Hunter

could accidentally give Avery fuel for Nick, and Avery could out me being SMI, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Lovely. One more thing to add to the list of everything in my life I’ve lost control over.

I decide to save us a table at In-N-Out instead of waiting in line with everyone else, trying to convince myself to be less

annoyed about this whole situation. All Hunter was supposed to do was give me a ride home, and now I’m stuck with people I

barely know, and Avery, who I hate. The only reason I’m not insisting on getting home is because I want to be there even less.

Mami texts me then, asking where I am, but I ignore it. I know I’m grounded and will probably get in trouble for not going

straight home, but I don’t care. There’s literally nothing she can do to punish me that matters anymore.

Eventually everyone else makes it to the table. Apparently, they’ve gone back to our therapy topic of relationships. Everyone’s

trying to give Zo advice about how to talk to their “straight” boyfriend.

“You should tell him how you feel,” Aaron says between sips of his soda. “Like, if he knows it feels misgendering when he

says he’s straight, maybe he’ll see it in a different way?”

I try to be nonchalant as I gauge Hunter’s reaction to that.

He’s usually pretty cool about stuff like this, but he’s also not the most informed.

He looks at me like he thinks I have something valuable to add to the conversation.

Which I don’t. Does he think because I’m queer that I know shit about Zo’s very different situation?

But Zo notices Hunter looking at me, so now they think I have something to say.

“Uhh, maybe he’s just not ready to come out?” I say almost defensively. “But I’m straight, so I wouldn’t know.” I punctuate

that caveat with a big bite of my burger, so I don’t have to say anything else. I just had to make sure Hunter knows I’m not

out to this group. Well, besides Avery, but that’s not by choice. Hunter and Avery both know I’m lying, but neither of them

calls me out on it.

“That’s a good point,” Hunter says. “Maybe give him some time and let him know it’s okay to question it. I mean, I’ve never

been in a serious relationship before, so I probably don’t have the best advice. But yeah, that’s what I would do.”

“Really?” Avery asks. I’m not sure which part he’s questioning until he tacks on a “Me either.”

Zo looks from Avery to Hunter and smiles a little. Avery notices and immediately looks down, blushing. Hunter’s too busy typing

on his phone to catch it, though.

He turns to me. “I should get you home soon. Your mom just texted me.”

I sigh. She knew he was picking me up from therapy, so it was bound to happen eventually. “Is she mad?”

“Not yet,” Hunter reassures me. “But we should probably head back while she’s still relieved you’re with your therapy friends.”

“Okay, sure,” I say as I start picking up my trash.

“I should probably head out too. Can’t spend too much time out of the house,” Avery says as he moves to stand.

“You need a ride?” Hunter asks, to my horror.

“Oh, are you sure?” Avery glances at me like it’s really me he wants the answer from, but Hunter’s saying yes before I can

protest. Besides, I can’t tell Avery no for Hunter without telling Hunter everything.

Once it’s just the three of us in Hunter’s car, Avery feels way more awkward. It’s not the kind of tense awkward like he is

around Nick, but he just seems so uncomfortable. I don’t know if he feels guilty or what, but I don’t care. Hunter starts

playing that same indie band, and Avery’s suddenly a person again. He and Hunter go off with each other about how obsessed

they are with the band, and I happily ignore Avery the rest of the ride.

When I get home, I’m about to follow my new routine of heading straight to my room and staying there when I get an idea.

“I want to go to conversion therapy,” I announce as I approach the living room where my mom and Yami are working.

Yami’s head whips around with a disgusted look on her face before she seems to remember we aren’t talking.

Mami, on the other hand, looks more sad than anything. “No, mijo. We’re not doing anything like that.”

“Why not?” I stand my ground, trying to keep my cool if I want to be in any way convincing.

She looks over to Yami as if for help answering me. Yami sighs and says, “It doesn’t work,” to Mami instead of to me.

“That’s not true.” I glare at Yami even though she won’t look at me. “I know someone who went, and it worked for him.”

“I said no, and that’s final,” Mami says firmly this time. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. Cesar, Yami, why don’t you

two go check on Dona Violeta for a bit? You haven’t visited in a while. She gets lonely, you know.” She changes the subject,

like that’ll make me just forget.

And maybe it’s working, because my cheeks heat up at the mention of Dona Violeta. I can’t forget how she tricked me into going

to my grandma’s and abandoned me there. I’m not exactly in a rush to see her.

“I have homework,” I start, and Yami protests too.

“But we have so much work to do, Mami. I can visit her tomorrow.” I notice she says “I” and not “we.” She has nothing against

Dona Violeta; she just doesn’t want to go with me.

“It wasn’t a request,” Mami says as she takes Yami and me by our wrists and ushers us out the door, practically throwing us

outside before shutting the door behind us.

Yami and I stand there for a moment, her eyes catching mine for a second before they dart toward the road. She starts walking,

not waiting for me to follow. Whatever.

I trudge along behind her, letting her ignore me. The least I can do for Yami right now is stay out of her way.

Dona Violeta’s music grows louder the closer we get to her porch. She’s talking on the phone but waves enthusiastically when

she sees us approaching, and Yami waves back. I pointedly shove my hands into my pockets, so she knows I’m still pissed.

“I’ve got to go, Chela. Okay, I’ll tell them,” she says when we make it to the porch. “Your abuela says hi,” she tells me and Yami as she hangs up the phone. Knowing my abuela has someone to talk to makes me just a tiny bit less bitter about Dona Violeta’s existence. A tiny bit.

“Hola, Dona,” Yami says as soon as we make it to the porch. She hugs and kisses her on her cheeks.

“Hola, mija, te quiero mucho.” Dona Violeta hugs and kisses back. Then she looks at me and smiles like she didn’t lie and

screw me over. At least I have the decency to give Jamal and Yami some space after betraying them.

“Mijo, you’ve been eating too many sweets, haven’t you?” she says to me, giving my stomach a playful pinch.

“Ay, ?ya!” I say, swatting her hand away.

Usually this would be when Yami gives one of her feminist lectures she and Bo love to give about body image and how you shouldn’t

point out people’s weight, and how gaining weight isn’t necessarily indicative of health or eating habits alone, blah blah

blah.

But Yami stays quiet this time, letting the backhanded comment sink into my apparently growing gut. Yes, I’ve gained some

weight recently. No, it’s none of Dona Violeta’s business. So what if I’ve been eating more than usual? Food is one of the

only things these days that makes me feel anything worth feeling. When I eat, I’m not guilty, or depressed, or angry. Eating

is the only time I really get to just exist without thinking.

And now I feel like I can’t even have that.