Free Rainbow High by Alex Sanchez Page B

then, Jeremy answered. “Hel o?”
    Nelson took a deep breath. “Hi. It’s me.”
    “Nelson! Hold on a sec. Let me get off the other line.”
    Nelson waited, picking at his scab some more, til Jeremy came back on.
    “Dude, I left you two messages!”
    Nelson brought the scab to his mouth. “I’m sorry.”
    “I was worried,” Jeremy said. “How’d your test go?”
    Nelson sucked on his finger, tasting blood, and trying to decide how to tel Jeremy his news. “Can I come over? And—you know—talk in person?”
    “Sure!” Jeremy said eagerly. “Come on over.”
    Jeremy lived with his straight older brother in a redbrick low-rise near the community col ege across town. Since Nelson’s mom had gone to the supermarket, he left her a note and walked to the metro.
    “Hi. Come on in,” Jeremy said, answering the door. “You can meet my brother.” Nelson pul ed off his jacket. “Kiss?” he asked, pursing his lips.
    Jeremy took the coat and grinned, pecking Nelson on the lips. He turned toward the kitchen. “Hey, Bob! This is Nelson.” Jeremy’s brother looked like a slightly older, tal er version of Jeremy—same brown hair and eyes—though in Nelson’s opinion, he wasn’t nearly as cute, with a scruffy face and the start of a potbel y. “Howdy!” Bob waved from the kitchen pass-through. “Nice to meet you.” After pouring Nelson a Coke, Jeremy led him to the bedroom. Though it was Nelson’s first time in the brothers’ room, he could guess which half was whose. On one side hung an outdated babe calendar of a bare-breasted blonde. A disheveled pile of CDs lay scattered by the stereo.
    Tangled covers lay strewn on an unmade twin bed.
    On the opposite side hung a framed arty photo of a guy in his underwear. Col ege textbooks neatly lined the desk. On top of a perfectly made bed lay a pile of freshly laundered clothes.
    From amid the jumble of shirts, socks, and gym shorts, a pair of bleached white undies shone out, bright as a beacon.
    “Sorry about the laundry.” Jeremy placed a coaster on the desk for Nelson’s glass and pul ed the desk chair out for him. “Have a seat.” Nelson noticed a photo of a grinning girl in sandals on the desk. “Who’s that?”
    “Celia,” Jeremy said, sitting on the bed opposite Nelson. “One of those ‘Save the Children’ kids. We write letters. It helps keep me from getting too self-absorbed. So, how did your test go?
    Nelson eased into the chair and fidgeted with an earring.
    “I, um . . . tested negative?” It sounded like a question, though he hadn’t meant it to.
    Jeremy’s face scrunched up—either in confusion or disappointment, Nelson wasn’t sure which. “Negative?” Jeremy echoed.
    “Yeah?” Nelson said, his voice quivering.
    “What a relief!” Jeremy sighed. “That’s great, man. When you didn’t cal me, I figured you’d tested positive and were too depressed. I remember how down I got about my result. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.”
    Hearing Jeremy’s story, Nelson felt total y sil y. He was probably the only freak in history to feel upset because he’d tested negative.
    “So,” Jeremy said. “Why didn’t you cal and tel me?”
    “Wel . . .” Nelson fussed some more with an earring. “I guess I was afraid, after al you said . . . you know . . . about dating someone negative.
    ...”
    As Nelson spoke Jeremy gazed intently back at him, his calm brown eyes only making Nelson’s words that much harder to utter.
    “I mean . . . if you don’t want to go out with me anymore . . . just tel me.” His hand trembled as he reached for some soda and waited for Jeremy’s response.
    Jeremy studied Nelson. His tongue ran across his lips before he final y spoke. “Wel , I guess I’m just a little scared. . . . Are you sure you want to go out?”
    Nelson felt his shoulders relax. “Of course! Do you?”
    “Yeah.” Jeremy nodded slowly. “I do.”

    Nelson’s heart leaped up in his chest. This whole thing felt so frigging