Page 182 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“We sure loved having him in the theater group,” Keisha drawled. “His enthusiasm is contagious. Next year, I think he should join us officially.”
“Can we do a sci-fi play?” he asked before clamping down on his excitement, because he was still in a world of trouble.
His mother looked back and forth between him and his friends. “It’s awfully hot out,” she said at last. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to invite everyone in for a drink.”
Ricky’s heart filled with joy as they each entered and jostled him affectionately or ruffled his hair. Before long, the living room was full of teenagers and his mother had retreated to the backyard, where his father was weeding.
“How are you doing?” Cameron asked, joining him in the kitchen.
“Okay,” Ricky said hoarsely as he took a twelve-pack of pop from the fridge. His chin began to tremble when he set it on the counter. “Actually, it’s really bad.”
Cameron opened his arms. “Come here.”
Overwhelming emotion accompanied Ricky with each step. “It hurts so much,” he sobbed against his friend’s chest. “I want him back.”
“I’m so sorry.” Cameron rubbed his back reassuringly. “You’ll get him back someday. They can’t keep Diego locked up forever.”
“True.” Ricky pulled away with a sniffle. “But I don’t know if it’ll ever be the same.”
“He won’t stop loving you,” Cameron assured him. “I don’t think anyone could.”
“Thanks.” Ricky put on a brave face, for his benefit, but it sure didn’t reflect how he felt inside. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I can’t take full credit,” Cameron explained. “I started the conversation, but the others came up with some great ideas to get us in the door.”
Ricky checked the living room and saw Silvia watching him. She offered a sympathetic smile, which he found easy to return.
“And if your parents wouldn’t have let us see you,” Cameron said, “we were thinking about taking a road trip to Seattle.”
“You still can!” Ricky said, adoring the idea.
“Well sure, but itisa very long drive, and most of us have jobs.”
“So what?” Ricky joked. “You can find new ones when you get back.”
Cameron smiled. “We’ll have to stay in touch somehow. I don’t suppose your grandparents own a computer?”
“I wish,” Ricky sulked. “We’d have to talk on the phone, like people from ancient history.”
“Hey, it’s better than nothing. I’ll call you and keep you up to date on everything that happens here. By the time you get back, it’ll feel like you were never gone at all.”
“Thanks,” Ricky said.
Cameron placed his hand on the twelve-pack. “Want me to pass these out to the others?”
“Yeah,” Ricky said. “I’m going to make some popcorn.” And gather his strength, so he wouldn’t break down into tears again. This was supposed to be a happy occasion!
He was watching the bag slowly rotate in the microwave when Mindy walked into the kitchen. “Do you have a minute?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ve got the whole summer, but not in a fun way.”
She winced. “Yeah, tough break. Although I’m glad you won’t be locked up anywhere. That seems so cruel.” She hesitated before asking, “What happened to Diego? I mean, I heard rumors but…”
Ricky didn’t resent her for wanting to know. In fact, he felt better knowing that someone else cared. “The judge gave him three months in a detention center. He’s losing an entire summer.” Which had to be a bitter pill to swallow. The last time Diego had lost a summer, he’d felt betrayed by his two closest friends. Now it was Ricky who had abandoned him. That’s how he probably thought of it. He kept thinking of how Diego had stood when the police pulled up to the house and wordlessly walked over to them, even as Ricky began to cry. As the officers handcuffed him, those cinnamon eyes had remained locked onto his, Diego’s handsome face impassive and impossible to read.
“I tried,” Ricky said. “When the judge asked if I had anything to say for myself, I told him what a good person Diego is—how he works hard for the family business, and that they still needed him.” He swallowed. “I don’t think it helped.”
“Maybe he would have gotten an even longer sentence,” Mindy said. “You never know.”
