Page 51 of Pride High

“Foreshadowing,” Anthony said with a nervous chuckle. “Uh… I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah!”

“Who’s ready to party downtown?!” Omar cried out.

“I just want to window shop,” Silvia said.

“We’ve got to stop by Recycled Sounds,” Anthony added. “And the Music Exchange.”

“Is there somewhere we can go dancing?” Mindy asked.

Omar gestured to her. “She’s the only one who gets it.”

“I’m sure there’s a night club that’s open during the day for minors,” Silvia said dryly.

“Great!” Omar replied. “Let’s go.”

Piling into the truck was awkward. Silvia was driving of course, so Omar slid in next to her.

“Do you have a preference?” Anthony asked while hovering near the passenger-side door.

Mindy glanced in the interior. Omar was pretending to burn his nose with the truck’s cigarette lighter. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll take the window seat.”

This seemed to make Anthony happy. Mindy climbed in after him.

“Hold up!” Omar said. Under his breath, he muttered, “I swear she’s only doing this to embarrass me.” Louder he added, “Would you mind waving at my grandma? I promised her you would.”

She made eye contact with Silvia who shrugged. Mindy was closest to the house so she rolled down the window and waved at a complete stranger. The old woman smiled before raising one of her crooked arms in response. There was something familiar about her mischievous grin. Perhaps that’s where Omar had inherited it from.

She rolled up the window as the truck pulled forward, thankful that the air conditioning had been repaired recently. Mindy could deal with heat, but she didn’t want her hair to get blown around. Especially when they got on State Avenue and picked up speed. The situation felt more comfortable as they drove. Omar talked a lot while Anthony messed with the radio, but generally they were all in conversation with each other, which helped relieve the pressure.

They parked downtown and began to stroll, and although Mindy wouldn’t have chosen Westport as the location of her first date, she soon began to enjoy herself. She always felt safe when in Pride, like nothing unexpected could happen on its quaint streets. There were no guarantees here in Kansas City. The streetsand sidewalks were a hive of activity. Cars honked and brakes squealed. Almost every business they passed had an open door, music and scents seeping out to lure customers in. They often had to make room for other people as they walked or when they stopped to stare. At one point a panhandler came up to them, cussing under his breath and then yelling outright when Silvia gave him a couple of dollars. The man didn’t seem angry at them. He directed his complaints at the sky as he wandered away.

Omar felt the need to make a scene wherever they went. Like when they were shopping at a military surplus store, he kept holding up camouflage army jackets and asking the shopkeeper, “Do you have this in black?” Which of course they didn’t.

After this had happened three or four times, the shopkeeper surprised them. “Yeah,” he grunted. “In the back. I’ll show you.” Omar hung up the jacket and followed the man, who shook his head when he saw the rest of them trailing behind. “It’s a small room,” he explained.

Before too long, the shopkeeper reappeared. Alone. They kept waiting for Omar to show up again. When he finally did, it was through the front door.

“Ha ha,” Omar said to the shopkeeper before coming over to join them. “Mr. Funnybones over there ushered me out a back door to the alley,” he reported. “I had to walk around the entire block just to get here again.”

“Well,” Silvia said, “while you were going for a stroll, I found this. And no, it doesn’t come in any other color.” She held up an old aviator jacket. The dark-brown leather was distressed, creating cracked orange highlights across the surface. The wool lining on the collar and sleeve cuffs had yellowed with age. “I bet you’d look good in this.”

“Yeah?” Omar said, taking the jacket and shrugging it on before he spun in a slow circle. “What do you think?”

The leather brought out the natural brown in his hair and eyes, which normally appeared so dark. “Your skin tone is perfect for earthy colors,” Mindy said. “You’re an autumn.”

“You hear that?” Omar said to Anthony. “I’m an autumn!” Then he looked at her again. “What’s he?”

If his blond hair wasn’t dyed, he’d probably be a summer. But as is… “He’s cool and dark, which makes him a winter.”

“Cool and dark,” Anthony repeated, smiling at her briefly.Then he addressed his friend. “That’s better than being muddy and wet.”

“Yeah yeah,” Omar said in good humor. He’d found a mirror and was considering himself. “It’s not my usual style.”

“No, but you look hot in it,” Silvia said.

That’s all it took to convince him. Omar bought the jacket, and soon they were walking down the street while he gleefully swung the shopping bag around. They stopped by a store that sold incense, crystals, dreamcatchers, and other mystical merchandise that always got her imagination going. Mindy was fondling a pack of Tarot cards and debating if she should buy them when Anthony sidled up to her.

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