Marti finally glanced at him, but only briefly. “I already put an ad in the paper. I’ll pick someone tomorrow.”
“Yeah, but don’t…” He trailed off when she raised an eyebrow. Diego shoved some pizza rolls in his mouth and washed them down with a swig of beer. He knew what was going to happen. His mom would choose whoever caught her eye the most, they would get involved, and before long the jerk-wad would feel too entitled to work. It always ended in disaster. They might get a couple months labor out of the guy at most. He finished eating as a new episode of Seinfeld began. He wasn’t sure why his mom watched sitcoms. She hardly ever laughed. Then again, neither did he. Not while watching TV. Ricky cracked him up all the time.
Diego wished they were together now. Maybe they would’ve been, if he hadn’t needed to work. He pictured them at Sonic, sitting in Frankenstein and sipping cherry lemonade slushes while Ricky made big eyes at him like he always did. Diego could use a little of that now. Ricky made him feel like a fucking stud instead of a goddamn mess. Although lately, even that was falling apart. He still kicked himself for passing out on their date when they could have been doing everything else. So he waited until a commercial break before trying again with his mom.
“Hire two mechanics this time,” he said.
Marti shook her head. “Too expensive.”
“Jasper isn’t going to be around forever. And we’re going to keep losing customers if they have to wait so long.”
“We manage just fine,” his mother said dismissively.
“Says who? I’m freaking tired! And I already flunked out of freshman year once. Maybe I should just drop out and get it over with.”
“Up to you.”
He stared, but not in disbelief. Of course she didn’t care. Ricky’s mom was probably bossing him around about doing his homework while shoving cookies in his mouth and using her thumb to lick smudges off his cheeks. His own was absentmindedly scratching her manicured nails along the couch fabric while staring unseeing at the television.
“I quit,” Diego said. “You’ll have to hire two mechanics, because I won’t do it anymore.”
That got her attention. Her eyes filled with fire before they narrowed. “Fine. Then from now on, stay out of the garage. Including your father’s office.”
Diego’s stomach sank. The auto repair shop was all he had left of his dad, and the old office was like his heart, or a time capsule, or something soft and lame like that. But he needed it.
“About time we got his name off the building anyway,” she muttered.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Diego said, his voice cracking. “I won’t let you erase him like that!”
“He erased himself,” Marti said, her face contorting with emotion until it settled on bitterness. “This is what he wanted.”
“Is it?” Diego snarled. “Because I never saw the note.”
“Don’t start,” she growled.
“Why?” he pleaded.
“Because I say so!”
“That’s not what I mean.” And she knew it. Diego had asked her repeatedly to show him his father’s suicide note, but she always refused. He stood to get himself another beer and took his time in the kitchen, still hounded by her threat. He imagined the ghostly shapes that would be left behind when his family name was taken off the building. And having to fish all of his father’s possessions out of a dumpster. He could pack it all up tonight if he wanted and move it somewhere safe, but it wouldn’t be the same. Lorenzo Gomez had chosen where everything should go and had put it there with his own hands. Diego didn’t want to lose that. He couldn’t stand the thought, so he hung his head before returning to the living room.
This time he waited until the show was over, hoping it was enough time for his mother to have calmed down.
“I’m not going to quit,” he said. “But for the love of god, hire someone ugly this time, okay? We can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?” his mother said evenly.
“You know what I mean.”
His mother was pretty, but the slow sneer that spread across her face made her look like a monster. “Don’t you judge me! You have no idea what it’s like to be on my own!”
Diego finished off his beer and stood, the blood pounding in his ears. “Yeah I do! It’s how I felt when you didn’t show up at my play. It’s how I felt during Christmas. It’s how I’ve felt ever since Dad died, because somehow he managed to take you with him, even though you’re still breathing.”
He grabbed his keys and left, intending to get into his car and drive over to see Ricky. He was standing next to Frankenstein when he turned around to consider the building. The last of his father’s legacy. He couldn’t leave it unprotected. Not when his mother had threatened to take it away. So he went inside and locked himself in his dad’s old office. Then he curled up on the threadbare couch and covered his head with his arms while resisting the urge to cry.
— — —
Anthony hustled into the school building, Omar hot on his heels. The temperature had plummeted overnight, reminding them that winter wasn’t over yet.
“If my parents don’t give me a car for my birthday,” Anthony said, rubbing his hands together to warm them, “then I’m going to seduce my brother’s new girlfriend, just to break them up.”
“Think it’ll happen?”
Anthony shook his head. “I’m not her type. And she’s definitely not mine.”
“No, I mean your parents. Will they give you a car?”
Anthony snorted. “No. I was counting on you getting one.”
“Yeah, so was I,” Omar grumbled as they went to his locker so he could stow his skateboard. “You know what’s really unfair? Ricky gets to ride to school in a Trans Am each morning. And he’s a freshman! If the weather gets bad enough, we’re gonna be forced to take the bus like the old days while he’s cruising around in a sports car.”
“Sure,” he replied, “but the driver is crazy.”
“He’s not really though.”
Anthony made a face. “Even if he didn’t burn down your parents’ garage, Diego is still… I don’t know. Damaged.”
“Yeah, and we’re responsible for some of it.” Omar shut his locker and led the way down the hall. “Just put yourself in his shoes. Pretend one of your parents… you know. And then imagine that me and Diego bailed on you right after.”
“It wasn’t right after,” Anthony said with a pang of guilt.
“Close enough, man. Where are you going?”
“I left my backpack in my locker yesterday so I wouldn’t have to take it with me to the record store.”
Omar grinned. “How’s my girlfriend doing?”
“I’m sure you saw her after I did. Don’t you get off at the same time?”
“Not always, but I try not to blow my load too soon.”
Anthony snorted and shook his head. Then his stomach sank. He could see his locker across the hall. Someone had painted three big black letters across the front.
FAG
“What the fuck?” Omar hissed, having noticed it himself.