Page 83 of As You Walk On

Makayla builds a tower out of the individual jam cups as if she’s heard this already. I angle toward him, biting on my thumbnail cuticle.

“Shit,” Luca hisses. “They say if I wasn’t so open about being bi, if I kept it on the low, then Dev would’ve stayed with me. My sexuality hadnothingto do with our breakup.”

Damn.

I try not to imagine every discussion at the Ramírez dinner table pivoting from TV shows and homework to Luca’s dating life. His sexuality. Why being himself has left him alone.

Our server passes with menus and water glasses for a couple that’s settled into the booth in front of us.

Luca slouches lower. “It’s hard enough when other queer people erase my bi-ness or brownness whenever it’s convenient for them. I don’t need to be shut down by my family for being me too.”

Aleah rests her temple on her knuckles. “It’s one hell of a thing being Black or brownandqueer.”

Luca nods, grimacing.

“One community loves you for your melanin but denies you because of your queerness.” Aleah smiles sadly. “The other claims to fight oppression because ‘love is love’ but is quick to forget the added struggle we face because of our Blackness.”

“Or brownness.”

There’s no arguing with them. It’s facts.

“I walked into Aja on purpose,” Luca admits. “I needed anexcuse to get away. Figure shit out. Did I really want to win Dev back because I still have feelings for her? Or am I trying to make my parents happy?”

I bite a little too roughly into my thumb’s skin wondering which conclusion he came to.

“Sorry,” whispers Luca. “Didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“Psst.”River flicks the back of his hand. “That’s what we do in this crew.”

Luca snorts.

The discussion shifts to a plotline in a TV series I haven’t seen. It’s the perfect cue for a brief respite. I excuse myself. My brain needs another break. Talking about all these things—being queer and the way it can alter relationships and how it’s hard to balance it all—has me thinking about Jay and what he said at Chloe’s.

Have I ever called him out before? Looked him in the eye and said what was on my mind? Or am I the guy Makayla says I am? Someone who lets shit fly because it’s easier that way. Because confrontation can lead to self-examination none of us want to face.

In the corner, near Study Girl’s booth, is a TouchTunes jukebox. The winking blue and white lights call to me. Since we’ve arrived, it’s rotated from Cardi B to Justin Bieber to something vaguely disco and too old for even Dad to know. When I walk up, the digital screen flashesJukebox Classics. Ah, that explains it.

I fish out a few dollars left over from the bag of chips I bought at SpeedEx. Fortunately the song library is current enough that I don’t instantly want a refund.

I’m halfway through theTop Playswhen another body sidles up.

“Oh no. Adele?” Luca smiles. “Are you okay? Should we have an intervention?”

My own grin is automatic.

“This coming fromyou?” I say teasingly. “Tell me, Luca, how many Billie Eilish songs are on your playlists? Ten? Fifty?”

He clutches his chest, feigning hurt on a level Makayla wishes she could achieve.

I lick at my ever-growing smirk. It’s hard to miss the way Luca’s eyes track that one motion. Or the way my chest warms. The small dip in my stomach.

Was it just a kiss?

“Maybe,” I suggest lowly, “this is more your speed?” My index finger hovers over theBoy Band Hitsplaylist.

Luca’s puckered mouth twists sideways. “Asshole.”

I hold his gaze. How could five seconds feel like an eternity? We’re not having a staring contest like Aleah and me. It’s something else. Like we hope the other doesn’t blink. Like, if we close our eyes, even briefly, this all goes away.

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