“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t think we’re going to—”
“We had a deal,” Diego said. “You’re not backing out of it now. Come on.”
He tromped down the aisle, only glancing back when he reached the stage. Mindy was clearly mortified, but she continued up the steps with him, even though she did so stiffly.
“It’ll be all right,” he murmured as they stood side by side. In a louder voice, he called, “Do you have any music that doesn’t suck?”
“We’re using a song from the play,” the theater teacher, Ms. Deville, replied.
“That didn’t answer my question,” he shot back.
Ms. Deville didn’t seem fazed. “In that case, no, we do not have music that doesn’t—according to your standards—suck.”
He turned to Mindy and shrugged. “Worth a shot.”
She shot him a desperate smile before turning fearful eyes toward their auditorium seats. Keisha started the music. That was all the direction they were given.
Diego picked up on the beat and turned to Mindy, who seemed frozen in place. He shook his shoulders and let the motion work its way down to his hips. Mindy began bending her arms at the elbow, like someone doing a very poor imitation of a jogger. Her head was still turned toward the audience even though her body was facing his.
“Hey,” he said, gently touching her chin so she would look at him. “Forget about them. Just pretend that everyone died in a fire.”
“That’s horrible!” Mindy hissed under her breath.
“Fine. They all drowned in a boat accident out on Lake Integrity. After the boat caught fire.”
Mindy spluttered laughter, which seemed to loosen her up.
“It’s just me and you,” he repeated. For his own benefit as much as hers, because this wasn’t his idea of a good time. Although he did like to dance. When the beat was strong enough, his body needed to react, and he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought about it. He just didn’t want to dance so on stage for a lame school play, but he also didn’t want Mindy to blame herself if they failed. “Come on now,” he said. “Look at my dumb ass go!”
Mindy shook her head… along with her hips. “You really are a good dancer!” she said.
“Omar told you my secret, huh?” he asked, mostly to keep her mind off the audience.
“Yes,” she replied, her feet in step with the beat. “He said you used to impress girls by dancing for them.”
“Most guys my age get a job bagging groceries,” Diego said with a smirk, “I was a male stripper. So have I still got it? Are you impressed?”
Mindy giggled gleefully. “I really am!” Her motions were smoother now, her arms swinging freely as she beamed at him. “Although I’d be even more impressed if you did a twirl.”
“Because that’s what tough street gangs do, huh?” he said before spinning around. When this made her laugh he let a wave of motion move down his entire body and back up again. “Does that impress you too?”
Mindy was giving it her all now. “Yeah! What else have you got?”
He backed away and dropped to the floor, as if to do a pushup, and began flopping like a fish out of water. He did this a few times before hopping up on his feet again.
“That’s called the worm,” he said with a toothy grin. Years ago, he and Omar had tried getting into breakdancing, although the interest hadn’t stuck. Which was a shame, because Mindy was biting her bottom lip and watching him with shining eyes. While shaking her cute little butt! He was reaching for her hand, wanting to truly dance together, when the music stopped.
“That was so cool!” Whitney said, rushing on stage. “I wanna boogie with you guys! Can we?”
“Just a moment, please,” Ms. Deville said, her attention settling on him. “I don’t suppose you can sing?”
Diego crossed his arms over his chest. “Hell no!”
“That’s okay,” Ms. Deville replied. “Neither could Richard Beymer.”
Heads were put together as excited whispering began. Mindy took a few steps forward, as if eager to join in the conversation, but she stopped and turned to him.
“Thank you,” she said with a demure smile, her cheeks rosy from exertion.
“No problem,” he murmured.
Whitney barreled into him right after. “You were amazing! They better give you the lead. Can you imagine how much fun we’ll have?”
She grabbed his hands and began swinging his arms around while singing some hokey song. Diego barely looked at her. Instead he watched Mindy until she disappeared into the gloom of the auditorium seats.
— — —
Cameron typed a special code, causing the bulletin board system he was on to reveal the date and hour. He didn’t need to be reminded that it was Saturday, but he wanted to make sure it wasn’t time to meet Anthony yet. Thirty minutes remained, so he returned his attention to the private chat room he was in with Ricky, who went by Skylar99 while online.
SKYLAR99: You’ve got to watch The Real World! I’ve been addicted to the reruns while I’m in prison and it’s so good!
CAMERONX: Why would anyone want to watch a show about real life? Just turn off the TV and go outside.
SKYLAR99: Some of us can’t.
CAMERONX: Oh right. So you think the show is designed for shut-ins and people who are grounded for getting their mom high?
SKYLAR99: Maybe! It’s more interesting than real life, because it’s a bunch of hot strangers living together. And get this, one of the guys is bisexual.
CAMERONX: Wow! For real?
He couldn’t remember seeing anyone but straight people on TV. Aside from some musicians he never would have known about had Anthony not told him recently. Cameron was used to gay people being swept under the carpet, like a dirty little secret.
SKYLAR99: Yeah! His name is Norman. They even show him on a date with another guy!
CAMERONX: I need to see this.
SKYLAR99: Being grounded has its perks. I guess.
Cameron pulled his attention away from the screen. He could hear his mother talking to someone downstairs.
CAMERONX: Be right back. I think someone is here.
He left his parents’ home office, the voices growing louder as he hurried down the hall.
“I’d offer you a glass if you weren’t driving,” his mother said. “Although a little sip wouldn’t hurt. If you want.”
When he heard Anthony laugh in response, Cameron broke into a sprint and practically leaped down the stairs to the entryway.
“Hey!” he said, eyeing his mother critically before turning his attention on Anthony. “You’re early!”
“I couldn’t wait to see you,” his boyfriend replied.
“Aren’t you adorable!” Brenda enthused. “You make me wish I was sixteen again. And a gay man.”
Anthony grinned. “I mean, that’s basically who I’m dating, a younger gay version of you.”
“We don’t have that much in common,” Cameron retorted, eyeing the wine glass his mother held. “Did you at least eat lunch?”
“Oh stop,” Brenda said. “You enjoy your weekend. I’ll enjoy mine. Have funs, boys.”