Page 127 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“Math is one of the few subjects I do okay in.”
“Not me,” Anthony said. “But I don’t feel stupid because of it. Intelligence comes in many forms. A master’s degree in psychology isn’t helpful when a pipe breaks beneath your toilet and shit goes flying everywhere.”
“Dude, that was so funny!”
“No it wasn’t,” Anthony said, laughing despite his words. “Our basement smelled like the Bog of Eternal Stench for a week!”
“Great movie,” Omar said, picking up on the reference. “Jim Henson was a genius.”
“Yeah, he was. Do you hear what you’re saying though? The guy who made puppets and did silly voices was a genius. What class did he ace for that? We haven’t learned anything about plumbing either. And what if the mall caught fire? My dad didn’t take a flame extinguishing elective in high school, and he never went to college.”
Omar stood up straighter. “Yeah, you’re right!”
“When it comes to the other stuff,” he said, bracing himself because he knew it wouldn’t be as easy. “Silvia isn’t just some girl.”
“That’s true,” Omar said, no longer seeming as buoyed. “But I sure fucked up.”
Anthony shook his head. “How?”
Omar’s brow furrowed. “I wanted us to be together so bad, but I don’t even know her, man! So I can’t actually love her. Not really. And there’s so much about the story that bugs me. Her kissing someone else. What she put Ricky through. And all her damn secrets that she only tells me once I’ve figured them out on my own. Or heard about them from someone else.”
Anthony saw his wounded expression and felt an ache in his heart. For them both, because… “I really like her though. Despite it all.”
Omar didn’t seem upset by this confession. Instead he nodded. “Yeah. I do too. Or at least I thought I did.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I dunno.”
They walked, lost in thought, until a voice called out from behind.
“Heeeeey!”
Anthony turned around and saw Whitney bounding toward them, her platinum blond hair flowing behind her. As she neared, she began flinging her hands in the air like she was throwing flower petals down the aisle of a fast-paced wedding.
“I’ve got eagle eyes!” she cried when leaping to a halt in front of them. “Caaaaaaw!”
“That sounds more like a crow,” Omar said with a grin.
“You’re right!” Whitney replied, thwapping him on the chest. “Skreeeee! Is that better?"
“Very lifelike,” Anthony said with a wince, because the girl wasloud.
“Last time I had an eye exam,” Whitney said, “I read the teeny tiny copyright at the bottom of the chart and walked the hell out.”
“Was it at my parents’ place?” Omar asked.
“Yeah! It totally was. I bet they still remember me and everything.”
Omar laughed. “I’ll ask them. What are you up to?”
Whitney stuck out her tongue, like she’d tasted something gross. “Shopping with my family for clothes. It’s so boring.”
“Not a fan of fashion?” Anthony asked. Her thin frame was currently draped in a rainbow tie-dye T-shirt and pale blue jeans that were torn at the knees.
“I’d rather be having fun,” Whitney said with a twirl. “What are you guys doing?”
“I just got my ears pierced,” Anthony said, angling his head so she could see.
