Page 130 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“I just need a second,” Diego said with another yawn. “The sun feels good. Take a load off.”
She blinked, not understanding at first. “I don’t want to get grass in my hair.”
Diego sat up, shrugged off the leather jacket he wore, and folded it into a square next to his head. “There ya go,” he said before flopping onto his back again. She had to admit that it did look appealing.
Mindy stretched out next to him, trying not to think about how this was as close to lying down with a boy that she had ever gotten. Of course that becameallshe could think about, so she tried making conversation. “I’m going to start doing this backstage. All those unused leather jackets can be my pillows.”
“Is that your thing?” Diego murmured drowsily. “You’re going to do costumes on Broadway or something?”
“No,” she said. “I just think it’s fun. I used to like dressing up my dolls, and creating little stories with them. That’s all theater is really—a bunch of adults who didn’t want to stop playing make-believe.”
“So whadd’ya wanna be?” Diego mumbled.
Mindy thought about her answer carefully. She let her head roll to the side and saw his chest slowly rising and falling, which made her feel safe enough to respond with the truth. “I want to be loved.”
She didn’t know if Diego heard her. Even asleep, his brow was slightly furrowed, his expression troubled. She thought back to when they were kids—how she’d had difficulty distinguishing him from Omar since they had been so alike. That had changed when Diego’s father died. At the time, she had been crying herself to sleep every night over her parents’ divorce. She had never truly considered what it would be like to lose a parent permanently. Mindy’s heart had broken for Diego. Enough that she had made him a tray of Rice Krispies treats. God that was embarrassing to think about now, but she had asked her parents what to do, and her mother had explained that people often gave food as a gift, since the grieving had enough to worry about without needing to cook for themselves. She wondered if Diego still remembered that. His face had twisted up when she had given him the treats, like he was angry, but he had still said thanks.
She had always assumed he would go back to the way he used to be, after enough time had passed, but it never happened. Looking back on it now felt like some horrific science experiment, starting with two boys so similar that most people assumed they were brothers. Omar was still the happy-go-lucky guy he had always been. Diego was not. And as much as Omar sometimes irritated her, she wished Diego could be like that again. For his sake, not her own.
Mindy continued to watch him, but when she became envious of an ant that was crawling up his muscled forearm, she decided enough was enough. “Time to wake up,” she said softly. No response. “Come dance with me,” she tried.
“Yeah, okay,” Diego said before sitting up.
Hehadbeen sleeping… Hadn’t he? She watched him become aware of the ant. Diego twisted his arm around to see what was crawling on him and brought his mouth near to blow it off. Then his gaze moved to meet hers. “About that dance….”
Mindy laughed. “Finally!”
She got up and went to the patio to switch on the boombox. “Okay. Let’s take it from the top, starting with the prologue.” Which meant she had to pretend to be a grimy gangster who didn’t want anyone messing with her turf. She was lurching around and swiping at the air, but all Diego did was stare at her.
“Come on,” she said. “You must know this by now!”
“I’m not in the opening scene,” he said.
Mindy stopped dancing. “Then why didn’t you say so?”
Diego smirked. “Because I was having fun watching you.”
She blushed and rolled her eyes before going to the boombox to fast forward the tape. He was right. Tony and Maria didn’t have any choreography until the gym dance. But boy, when they did…
As soon as the music began to play, he became much more responsive. And it was intense. She kept watching his body for cues on how he would move. Diego only needed to look her in the eye. She felt like her most private thoughts were laid bare, which couldn’t be the case, because he would have blushed at some of them. Or grinned.
They went through each dance routine and song, Diego often rolling his eyes while he mouthed along with the words, but he seemed to know them well enough. That wasn’t the case when, after taking a break for a drink, they began running lines.
“Love is enough,” Diego said.
“Not here, it isn’t,” Mindy said, shaking her head. “They’ll never let us be.”
“Then we’ll make them,” Diego growled.
Mindy peered at him to see if he was joking, but he seemed to be waiting on her.
“That’s not the line,” she said, “and it’s a really important one!”
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“Because it’s when they decide to run away together, so they’ll be free to love each other. That’s what the song ‘Somewhere’ is about. They’re dreaming of a perfect future together.”
Diego’s expression was blank before he said, “Whitney and I always improvise.”
