Free Rainbow Boys by Alex Sanchez Page B

home?” He nodded and bolted out the door as fast as he could.
    When he arrived at school, he spotted Nelson amid the crowd in front, wearing his black leather jacket. Kyle pulled out the Honcho and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Take your stupid magazine.”
    Nelson glanced at the rolled-up magazine thrust into his hands. “Don’t you want it?”
    “Would you put it away, please? My mom saw it.”
    “You’re shitting.” Nelson stashed the magazine in his backpack. “Well,” he sighed. “You wanted to come out to them.”
    “Correction,”—Kyle jabbed his finger at Nelson—“You wanted me to come out to them.”
    “Yes, ‘cause I hate to see you in agony about being in the closet all the time.”
    “I wasn’t in agony. Until now.”
    “Yeah? Between obsessing about your parents and Jason, I’m surprised your grades haven’t suffered.”
    “What are you talking about? My grades are better than yours.”
    The homeroom bell rang. “Meet me at lunch,” Nelson told him. “In the meantime, try to relax.” But in class Kyle could hardly sit still. Would his mom phone his dad? He kept expecting to hear Mueller call his name over the loudspeaker, ordering him to report to the front office, where his dad would be waiting.
    A t lunch Nelson waved him over. “How’s it going?”
    “Crappy,” Kyle said, sitting down beside him. “I feel like skipping the rest of the day.” Nelson’s eyes lit up. “Yeah? Let’s do it!”
    “I was kidding, Nelson. I’m not skipping, so drop it.”
    “A t least eat something.”
    “I can’t.” Kyle pushed aside his tray.
    The second half of the day was even worse than the morning. Ms. Cho asked him if he wanted to go to the infirmary. Kyle almost said yes, but he was afraid the nurse might phone one of his parents.
    A fter school, Kyle and Nelson slowly walked home, leaning against the wind, past the brick box houses. Nelson popped a candy into his mouth. “Your dad will probably think I brainwashed you.”
    “No, he won’t,” Kyle said, kicking the leaves beneath his feet. But he knew it was true.
    “Well,” Nelson said. “If they kick you out”—he jumped up, suddenly excited—“you can come live with me! It would be cool as shit, Kyle.
    We’d have a blast.”
    “Whoa, Nelson. Read my lips: One, they are not kicking me out. Two, I am not going to live with you.”

    “Well, excuse me! You don’t have to sound so horrified. I was just trying to help.” Kyle felt guilty and apologized, knocking aside a pile of leaves. “It’s my dad I’m worried about. I know he’ll lecture me. I can hear it already.”
    “Yeah, life sucks. You want a Jolly Rancher?”
    They reached the corner where their paths separated. “Why don’t you come over?” Nelson asked.
    Kyle considered the invitation. A t least he wouldn’t be stuck waiting for his mom. But he decided against it. “I better clean my room up, so at least she can’t chew me out about that.”
    A s soon as he got home, Kyle started on his room. He collected his shoes and lined them up neatly in the closet, then vacuumed the carpet and straightened the books and papers on his desk. He tossed the shirt hanging on the back of his chair into the hamper. He changed the bedsheets, tucking in the corners like his mom had taught him and spreading the cover flat, folding it back and over his pillow. A ll the while he tried to think what to say to her about the magazine.
    Downstairs, he decided to make dinner. Unlike Nelson, he wasn’t that good a cook, but coming home to a meal would make it harder for his mom and dad to yell. While he cooked, he debated what to say.
    He watched the kitchen clock as he shuttled around the kitchen. By the time he heard his mom’s car in the driveway, the smell of tuna casserole permeated the air. Canned corn cooked on the stove.
    He gripped the counter and tried to smile as the door opened and his mom came in, carrying a grocery bag. “Hi, Mom,” he said casually. “I