Page 36 of The Golden Boy’s Guide to Bipolar

Bianca catches me between classes at school the next day. And by catches, I mean she literally corners me at the edge of the

hallway as soon as I get out of class. It’s almost like she was waiting for me.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says, arms crossed.

“I... uh...” I shift my weight back and forth, resisting the urge to make a run for it. I look behind Bianca at the

crowds of people walking to class, and I spot Avery, who sees me looking at him. Instead of looking away this time, he gives

me a small nod in acknowledgment. I glare back, and he keeps walking.

“Look,” she interrupts my non-response, not that I had anything intelligent to say in the first place. “I know I came on a

little strong the other day. Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen, okay? Can we just go back to before?”

Bianca’s been our neighbor and was Yami’s best friend long enough for me to know she’s been doing this her whole life.

She has this compulsive need to be liked by everyone, so whenever things get weird, she’s the first to backtrack and pretend it never happened.

Maybe that’s why she’s so hung up on the fact that Yami never forgave her.

“Hello?” Bianca waves a hand in front of my face. She might be willing to pretend she never told me she loved me, but I can’t.

If Bianca loves me, that means all of this is for nothing. The whole point of dating her was to get everyone who cared about

me off my back. But if Bianca loves me, that’s just one extra person I have to feel guilty over.

“Is this about Yami?” Bianca asks when I don’t respond right away.

“What? No!” It’s kind of a lie. A half lie, at least. Yami was at least half of the reason I hooked up with Bianca at that

party in the first place. At least half of the reason any of this spiraled so far out of control.

Then again, it is kind of weird that Bianca keeps bringing Yami up. Does she know I only hooked up with her to piss off Yami? It just doesn’t make any sense.

I want to tell Bianca that I don’t love her. That this won’t work out. That loving me is nothing but bad news. But this is

everything I asked for. Everything I need to get right with God.

I could love Bianca. One day. Maybe. I could end up with her. Marry her, even. Not that I plan on living long enough to do

anything like that. But if I don’t want to go to hell, I need to at least try, right? It’s not like I’m gonna go confessing

my love for her any time soon, but I can’t run away at the first sign that things are actually going according to plan.

But then there’s that guilt. The guilt that made me betray Yami and Jamal.

The next bell rings, and I use it as an excuse to get the hell out of there.

I want a way out. There has to be a way out.

I usually try to walk home from school fast enough that I get home before Yami so I can avoid her, but on Friday I’m too exhausted

to care. I get home just as the USPS truck puts something in our mailbox.

I decide to just grab the mail since I’m right here. But before I even make it to the door with the letters, Yami is rushing

out. She almost passes me on her way to the mailbox before she notices I beat her to it.

“I got it,” she says as she reaches for the papers in my hand. Normally I wouldn’t even care to look, but Yami’s being weird.

I glance down before handing her the mail... to find a letter to Yamilet from Whitman at the top of the pile.

“You applied out of state?” I ask, more surprised than anything. I have to resist the urge to ask more questions. What about

Bo? Does she want to leave because of me? Does Mami know?

“Don’t tell Mami,” she says as she grabs the letters from my hand and goes back inside without another word. I guess that

answers one thing.

A lump has the audacity to form in my throat, but I have no right to be upset after everything I did. Yami going out of state

for school is a good thing. Getting away from me will be good for her.

Mami will probably be pissed, but I can’t imagine Yami staying here forever just to take care of me and our mom. Maybe she would have if I hadn’t pushed her so far in the other direction, but it’s good she finally listened. She’ll be way better off not having to deal with me.

It’s a good thing. I tell myself that over and over again. This is what I wanted. This is what she wants. It’s perfect.

But the lump in my throat stays.

Instead of going inside, I start to walk to Walmart. Tonight I’ll be meeting up with Jamal for our project, so in order to

spend as little time together as possible, I might as well get the telescope on my own instead of going shopping for it together.

I don’t have the money for it, but how hard could a little handheld telescope be to steal? At least it’s better than being

trapped at home alone with Yami.

My phone goes off while I’m walking, and I pull it out of my pocket to see that Moni is FaceTiming me.

“Hey, Moni, what’s up?” I ask.

“So, I came up with a plan,” she whispers with a grin.

“What plan? And why are you whispering?”

“Abuela fell asleep on the couch, and my phone was just sitting there under all her clothes in her drawer. I think she secretly

wanted me to find it. Anyway, obviously I had to get my phone so I could tell you about my plan,” she whispers as she looks over

her shoulder, as if checking to make sure Abuela’s still sleeping.

“What plan?” I ask again as I sidestep a pole. Unlike Yami, I’ve never been one of those people who gets so consumed with

something they run into shit on the street. You never know what could happen, so I try to stay at least a little alert, even

if Moni is entertaining.

“So, remember how I was talking about Abuela and how lonely she must be when we’re not here? But the thing is, I only stay here when I’m in trouble, and how am I supposed to finish my secret project if I’m always grounded? Do you know how hard it is to do anything without that woman knowing?”

“Wait, are your plan and your secret project the same thing?” I ask. Moni really is allergic to providing context.

“No. The plan, which I called to tell you about, is about Abuela. The secret project is about my dad.”

“Should I even ask if it’s a secret?”

“Top secret. But yes, you should ask, I’m dying to tell someone.” She doesn’t wait for me to ask before diving in. “So I think

the reason my dad really doesn’t want to pay for my college unless it’s a music program is because he’s scared. Like, he paid so much money for me

to do music my whole life. Maybe he thinks if I can be successful from something he had nothing to do with then I’ll just

abandon him. He knows I really hate his job and I think he’s afraid I’ll go no contact or something if I’m not relying on

him.

“My secret project is the dispensary, but that’s just step one. When his company inevitably goes under because of some lawsuit

for malpractice or something, I’ll be there to offer him a job at my dispensary. Isn’t that perfect?”

I’m about to answer, but she just keeps going.

“Anyway, about the plan. Since I’ll eventually finish earning my tuition money and leave for college to pursue my secret project, I have to find

Abuela a boyfriend so she’s not as lonely while I’m gone. And I think it’s working! I introduced her to a guy at the dog park,

and I slipped her number in a guy’s pocket at the doctor’s office.

“She’s been on her phone a lot lately, and she gets all smiley whenever she checks her email.

And that lady, her name’s Violeta, right?

She comes over sometimes, and remember how the first time she came they were loud as fuck?

” Every time I’m about to answer one of Moni’s questions, she just keeps going before I get a word in.

“Well, now they get all quiet when they talk, like they don’t want me to hear them.

She has to be gossiping about her little crush with that lady. What was her name again?”

“Vio—”

“Gotta go!” And there’s some loud scrambly noises before she hangs up on me. I guess the timing worked out, since I’m about

to go inside.

Just as I’m walking in past the checkout lines by the entrance, I practically crash right into Jamal, who’s walking out with

a telescope in hand. I’m both relieved I don’t have to steal one and annoyed that we had the same idea. Is he trying to avoid

me, too?

Knowing Jamal, he’s probably just here to be considerate. He almost drops the telescope at the sight of me, and I rush to

catch it, our fingers overlapping as we both grip it.

“Oh, sorry,” I say, letting go quickly, a blush rushing to my cheeks.

“It’s okay,” he says back, looking down for a moment before meeting my eyes. “I... I’ll see you later.”

And he walks off.

It’s only a few short hours before the sun goes down.

This time when I try sneaking out, it’s to see Jamal.

Only now I don’t bring any lube or condoms. We’re just calculating star trajectories tonight.

No romance, no sex. The only reason I’m sneaking out in the first place is because I’m grounded.

Even if this is for school, I doubt my mom would let me leave the house to be alone with Jamal late at night. She wouldn’t get it.

Jamal picks me up down the street from my house, just to be safe. He doesn’t open the passenger-side door for me, which was

to be expected. He probably never will again.

I open the door myself and scoot in while Jamal nods his head along to the Saul Williams track playing. It’s going to be a

long drive since we have to get out of the city so there’s less light pollution in order for us to actually see the stars.

I don’t even know if Jamal knows where we’re going, but I don’t want to break our unspoken code of silence by asking.

He opens his mouth a few times like he wants to say something, but stops himself every time. I clench my jaw to keep from

doing the same.

We spend the ride in silence until about thirty minutes in, when Jamal seems to get comfortable and rests his hand on the

center console. I glance down at it, feeling my own hand twitch in response. Our hands are supposed to be there together.

That’s how it’s always been.

But I can’t take his hand now, after everything. I’ve gone too far in the other direction. Besides, I doubt he’s putting his

hand there as an invitation anyway, like he used to. He probably just got tired of holding the wheel with both hands.

I clear my throat to shake the growing lump out of it, and that’s when he seems to notice me panicking. He moves his hand

back to the wheel.

We eventually take the freeway far enough that the skirt of city lights falls behind us. Jamal takes a dirt road a little farther into nowhere, then finally parks the truck.

I open the door and hop down to the ground before Jamal has a chance to not open the door for me again. It’s better not to

give myself the opportunity to feel any kind of way about it.

Jamal pulls the handheld telescope out of the back seat, then climbs into the bed of the truck. I follow him, making sure

to sit on the opposite side of the bed so our shoulders don’t touch. Jamal looks at the sky through the telescope for a while.

The last time we went stargazing, Jamal probably didn’t look at the sky more than two seconds. He just stared at me, insisting

he was “enjoying the view.” Now he doesn’t even glance in my direction.

“I can’t see a thing,” he says as he gives up and hands me the telescope.

It isn’t until he turns his head to look at me for the first time tonight that I see it.

“What’s that on your neck?” I blurt out.

“It’s nothing,” he says, a little too fast, as his hand shoots up to cover the mark on his neck.

I pretend I don’t know he has a hickey and take the telescope back, ignoring the pang in my stomach. It must be a pretty cheapy

telescope because yeah, I can hardly see shit. I eventually find the moon and think for a second that maybe we can bullshit

an assignment using that, but there’s no way that would work.

I put the telescope down between us. I guess this is what we get for trying to get a telescope at Walmart. “We need a better—”

“Is this really what you want?” Jamal interrupts, which he never does. He finally turns back to look at me.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, feeling his eyes on me but not daring to look into them.

“To barely talk? To pretend like there’s nothing between us but a bootleg telescope? Even when no one’s around?” His voice

catches, and I can’t stand hearing him hurt, so I cave and look at him.

His eyes are soft and intense, made to look even bigger under his glasses. He’s always looking at me like that. Intense. Focused.

Like there’s nothing else here but me.

Me.

Why would he want there to be nothing else but me?

“Who gave you that?” My voice comes out quiet, and it’s anything but steady. Why would I ask him that? It’s none of my business.

Do I even want to know the answer?

“That’s not fair,” he says. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To get rid of me?” My ears heat at the question, and that familiar

anger rushes to the surface.

“Don’t act like you know what I want!” I burst out. “You don’t know me like that anymore.”

I expect him get angry back, or at least hurt, but he just calmly pushes his glasses up his nose and states the obvious. “You’re

being mean.”

I scoff. “Yeah, well if you’re surprised about that, then you really don’t know me.”

“Look, I know you’re trying to get a reaction out of me or something, but I’m not playing that game with you. Neither of us

has a choice about being here together, and I don’t expect you to pretend you’re happy about it, but I can’t do this if you’re

not gonna treat me with respect.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat. He seems about as done with me as he can be, and that’s a good thing. “Okay.”

“So... question,” Jamal says after a while of silence.

“Yeah?” I ask, the lump growing.

“What am I supposed to do? You act like you want nothing to do with me, and I’m trying to respect that, but you’re also acting

like I did something wrong. So what do you want, Cesar?”

“I don’t know!” I blurt out. I never wanted to lose Jamal, but it was the only way to give him a happy ending. Me getting one has never been an option, so it doesn’t

matter how bad I want him. “I never wanted any of this, but...” I cover my face with my hands so he can’t look at me like that anymore. “But I know what I need.”

“What’s that?”

“I need you to stop caring about me, okay? You should want nothing to do with me . That’s what I need.”

He’s quiet again for way too long. I don’t have to see him to know those big eyes are still trained on me.

“I understand,” he finally says. And when I move my hands from my face, he’s looking at the stars.