Page 137 of Pride High 3: Yellow
She waited, wanting to give him the opportunity to say more, but all she heard was music playing in the background. “So when do I get to see my boyfriend again?” she asked.
“In class tomorrow for sure,” he responded.
“Okay, but how about outside of school? We haven’t done much since the fishing trip.”
“Oh. Uh… I’m off on Wednesday. I could stop by your work.”
“Okay,” she said, feeling anything but reassured, because “stopping by” didn’t sound like much of a commitment. But she would take it. “I won’t keep you then. Have fun with Anthony. I love you.”
There was a moment of hesitation that went on much too long before he replied with, “Yeah. Love ya.”
The line clicked and went dead. Silvia’s heart was heavy, when mere moments ago, it had been soaring. But she wouldn’t let the call get her down. Something was broken between them, and now that she knew she was staying, Silvia was more determined than ever to fix it.
— — —
Anthony basked in the full-body relief that always accompanied the end of the school day. He was going over to Ricky’s house to watch another episode ofBatman: The Animated Series, the second of a two-parter. Afterwards they would probably raid his fridge, hang out in the backyard, and gossip about boys. Mostly their own, which was great. The mere idea had him grinning, although the expression faded when he noticed Graham Fowler and his goons hanging out next to a row of lockers.
Anthony quickly averted his gaze while keeping them in his peripheral vision. He noticed Graham nudge his friends and nod in his direction just before he passed them. Anthony counted under his breath. When he reached ten, he risked glancing over his shoulder. Graham and some other guys were walking behind him. But maybe notbecauseof him. This hope was dashed when the slurs began.
“Where ya goin’, fag?”
“Dude is so gay it turned his hair pink!”
“What’s the rush, homo? Gotta get to the truck stop?”
“Huh?”
“My dad told me that gay guys hang out in truck stop bathrooms. You know… To suck cock.”
“Fucking gross!”
Anthony rolled his eyes. As long as they kept their distance, he didn’t care what the idiots had to say about—
Someone shoved him from behind, causing him to stumble forward. “Would you stop?” Anthony snarled as he spun around.
He was face to face with Graham and four other guys, and even though none of them were as big as their ringleader, he didn’t value his chances.
“Or what?” Graham sneered.
“Or you’ll be sorry!”
It was a bluff, but on TV shows, standing up to a bully was all it took to scare them off. Which was complete bullshit, judging from the way Graham and his cronies laughed. Anthony swallowed his pride and turned around to keep walking. Faster this time while scanning the halls for a friend. Omar, with his skateboard preferably, since it would make a nice weapon. Or even Ricky, because despite being small, he knew a thing or two about self-defense. He was probably waiting next to Anthony’s car at this very moment. So if he could make it there—
Someone shoved him again. He didn’t turn around this time. He picked up the pace, hateful cackles hot on his heels as he resumed his search for a familiar face. When he found one, his relief was short-lived, because it was Diego. Anthony locked eyes with him anyway, his fear meeting apathy. He felt something hook his ankle as he was shoved again. Anthony fell, landing painfully on his palms and knees before someone put the bottom of their shoe against his butt and pushed. His face almost slammed into the floor, but he managed to roll to the side and onto his shoulder.
“I guess fags have limp wristsandlimp ankles,” Graham joked.
To a chorus of laughter.
Anthony wasn’t sure if he should get up or stay down. He was frozen with indecision when a black boot landed right next to his face. Except the tip was pointed toward him instead of away. He looked up, following cuffed jeans up to a brown leather jacket, and saw Diego staring down at him with his usual scowl. He cocked an eyebrow before offering one of his huge hands. Anthony stared in disbelief for a split second before he grabbed it like a lifeline. Diego pulled him to his feet—literally—Anthony’s shoes scrambling to find purchase. He still stumbled when Diego let go of him, but he didn’t fall.
“Boy, when it rains it pours,” Graham crowed. “This school has a serious infestation of homos!”
“It’s been overrun by roaches for years,” Diego retorted. “Even though I keep stomping on them.”
He took a step forward, which was enough to make the other guys back up. All except for Graham, who was trying to hold his ground, despite the transparent fear on his face. “What’s the big deal?” he snarled. “I thought the chink was your bitch. Or are you buttfucking them both?”
“What did you call him?” Diego growled.
