Cliff agreed."And are you without sin?" Angie calmly asked."First Corinthians Five-Eleven,"
Cliff shot back. "Don't 'associate with any one who bears the name of brother if he is guilty of immorality'--""But what about Romans Two-One?" Aaron Esposito, a heavyset boy, interjected."'... By the standard by which you judge another you condemn yourself, since you, the judge, do the very same things.'"Here we go, I thought. Proof-text volleyball. We'd gotten into debates like this before, where each side spiked and volleyed Scripture quotes. Sometimes it seemed that if you looked hard enough, you could find a Bible verse to justify anything."If you accept gays," Elizabeth sputtered, "you're saying that27what they do is okay. And if you say gay is okay, what's to stop everybody from becoming gay?"Dakota rolled her eyes. "Would you become gay?""No!" Elizabeth scrunched her nose in disgust. "But I don't want my children to be gay."Dakota widened her eyes in mock surprise. "I never knew you had kids." She abruptly turned to me. "Did you know she had kids?"I kept my mouth shut, growing warmer as the girls grew louder-- and felt like a phony for not revealing my own inner turmoil."Ha, ha," Elizabeth sneered at Dakota. "This isn't a joke, you know.""Okay," Dakota said in pretend seriousness. "So, you're worried about your imaginary children."Elizabeth shook with rage. "I'm thinking about the children I plan to have and all the other children in the world who shouldn't be told that something is okay when it's clearly a sin!"The two girls leaned toward each other. Were they about to come to blows? Eager to defuse the tension, I raised my hands into a T formation. "Can we get back to the passage?"Dakota and Elizabeth became quiet. Everybody else--even Cliff--
exhaled a sigh of relief. Angie returned to reading aloud about Jesus being the living water, something which it seemed like we all could use a big dose of. My throat felt dry as dust.No one said much else after we finished reading the passage. I think we were all too stunned by how angry the discussion had gotten. We closed the meeting in prayer and put the chairs back in order.
And I slinked out the door, feeling like I had dodged a bullet.28
Chapter 6
ARRIVING HOME FROM BIBLE STUDY,I TOSSED MY BACKPACK TO THE FLOOR
AND COLLAPSED INTO BED. WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MY DREAM SENIOR
YEAR WAS TURNING INTO A NIGHTMARE.Cliffs and Elizabeth's comments hadn't totally surprised me. Their attitudes about gay people were the same as those I'd heard at church and Sunday school--and just as unsettling, if not worse.I wished I could have spoken up and explained that a person might not necessarily want to have gay feelings and that it might not be so easy to get rid of them. But no way could I say that. People might suspect I'd had thoughts about kissing and doing lusty things with guys.As I lay in bed, I cupped my hands behind my head and stared up at the ceiling. A crack had been inching its way across the plaster for years, like some slowly growing tree branch. I'd once asked Pa about it, a little worried the roof might crash in on me, but he'd told me not to worry. "It's just from the foundation settling."Inside my jeans pocket, my cell phone rang. It was Angie. "Why'd you take off so fast after Bible study?"Me, sitting up: "Because it was crazy!"29Angie: "Yeah. I never expected that big a rise." Me: "Was Dakota trying to antagonize them?" Angie: "You think?"I couldn't tell if she was sarcastic or serious. A moment later, my call-waiting clicked. It was Elizabeth calling to ask why I hadn't sided with her at the Bible study.I asked if I could call her back, then Dakota clicked in, asking, "Did Elizabeth call you?"My gut clenched uneasily. The multiple calls got pretty insane for a while as I tried to juggle all three girls; then I finally managed to get off the phone. It wasn't the first time I'd gotten caught in the middle of their squabbles. Pa had once referred to the group as my harem. As if. I wondered how Abraham, Isaac, and my other Old Testament heroes had managed multiple wives.
Wasn't one plenty?I took a deep breath, hoping to rally myself to get up and out of bed. But instead, I crashed asleep. Next thing I knew, Pa was shaking my foot and peering at me with concern."Something wrong, mijo?""Um, no," I lied, recalling Bible study."You sure?" Pa insisted. "You didn't look so good this morning, either.""I'm okay--just tired from school." I rubbed my eyes. "I'll go start dinner." He and I took turns making dinner, and tonight was my turn."Never mind," Pa told me. "Let's go get pizza." I didn't argue.Pa and I had always gotten along well. When my ma died, he'd taken her death pretty hard, and started to drink every night, from the time he got home until he was drunk. He hadn't been a mean drunk, but he would get depressed, telling me over and over, "Te quiero, mijo. You know I love you."30The way he kept repeating it had frightened me. What if something happened to him, too? I felt like I had to be strong for him--and for me. That's when I started making dinner for us, mostly easy stuff like macaroni and cheese or tuna fish sandwiches. When he fell asleep on the couch, I covered him with a blanket. In the morning I made coffee and woke him so he'd get to work on time.Although I realized something was very wrong with Pa, I felt too afraid to tell anyone. What if they tried to take me away from him? I had just lost one parent; the thought of losing another terrified me. But Angie came over to my house too often to keep it from her. When she found out what was happening, she swatted my arm. "Why didn't you tell me?""Please, don't tell anyone," I begged.
"Promise?" But she wouldn't.The evening after that, the doorbell rang, and I peeked out the window to see Angie with a big man in a crisp blue suit. I kept quiet, pretending no one was home. But when the bell rang again, my pa woke from the couch and told me, "Answer it, mijo"When I opened the door, Angie gave me a hard look and introduced her evangelical minister, Pastor Jose. From his tan, jowly face gleamed a confident smile. As he shook my hand, his eyes roved around the living room, completing their arc on my pa and the beer bottles beside him.Pa had never been a big fan of religion. Ma had had to practically drag him to church. And when she died, he stopped going altogether, instead muttering under his breath at God. But tonight Pa listened respectfully to Angie's minister and left his beer aside."I understand the hurt you feel," Pastor told Pa. "You must've loved your wife very much, but drinking isn't going to bring her back. You know that. You need to think about your son. That's what your wife would've wanted, isn't it?"31My pa gazed toward the floor, his face red from the alcohol-- and shame.After talking a while, Pastor Jose asked Pa if he could pray with him, and Pa nodded. Angie took my hand while I looked on, and the minister prayed:"Lord and Father, source of all our strength, we ask you to fill this man with your courage and help him to overcome the pain in his heart..."While Pastor Jose spoke, his voice genuine and heartfelt, I prayed too, hoping with all my heart that God would answer."We ask you this in Jesus' name," the pastor concluded. "Amen."And although it was barely a whisper, my pa responded, "Amen."The following Sunday morning, Angie and her mom came to fix Pa and me scrambled eggs and pancakes. For the first time since Ma's funeral, Pa put on a tie. And after breakfast we all headed to Pastor Jose's church.Through the I Am The Way Church, Pa began to attend Alcoholics Anonymous. With the help of AA he stopped drinking and got back to normal. Actually, better than normal: He started to help me with homework, attended parent-teacher conferences, and read the Bible almost daily. The church gave him a new lease on life, and one Sunday he stuck a bumper sticker on his truck that read: The Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it!Five years had passed since then, and each year we spoke less and less about my ma. I never mentioned how painfully I missed her, not wanting to risk making him drink again. Instead, our conversations stuck to safe subjects: my school, choir practice, sports, his work, when Abuelita (his ma, my grandma) would come visit us again from Mexico ...Tonight during dinner we talked about college. Although Pa had slowly built his gardening business to include a plant32nursery, five staff, and three trucks, he had never gone to college. He'd always made it clear he expected me to go. I'd be the first in my family.I worried how Pa would get along without me. He and I had become pretty emotionally dependent on each other. Maybe I also worried a little bit how I would get along without him.He must have sensed my nervousne
ss, because between pizza bites he told me, "I'm proud of you, mijo. You'll do fine."After dinner he dropped me off at home and went to one of his regular AA meetings. As I was stepping up our front walkway, my cell phone rang with a number I didn't recognize."Hey, it's Manuel. How'd your Bible study go this afternoon?"I had managed to put our heated Bible discussion out of my mind during dinner. Now the memory flooded back. Did I really want to go into it with Manuel?"Um, it went okay.""Yeah? What passage did you read?""John Four." I turned the key to the front door. "The woman at the well.""Oh, yeah," Manuel said. "I love that: Jesus, the living water."It surprised me that he knew the passage. I still didn't get how he could accept being gay and consider himself a Christian. Did he pray? Did he really know Jesus?"Let me know when you guys meet again," Manuel continued, "so I can go.""Uh-huh," I mumbled, while thinking, No way.He chatted a few more minutes about school and stuff, as if he were my buddy. I didn't want to be his buddy. I wanted him to go away and leave me alone. After saying good-bye I chucked my phone onto the bed and groaned in frustration. "Why me?"Later, I said my prayers, reviewing the day--listing the bad33things I'd done and the good things I'd left undone. But once again I had a hard time deciding what I should and shouldn't have done. Should I have sided with Elizabeth at lunch? Or had I done right by keeping silent? During Bible Club, should I have joined Angie and Dakota in speaking up for gay people? Or should I have joined Elizabeth and Cliff in speaking out against them? Was I resisting evil by at least trying to keep my distance from Manuel? Or was I turning my back on him?"Please help me, Jesus," I whispered, my thoughts and feelings all twisted up again. "Forgive me, and help me do better tomorrow."As I tried to get to sleep, I kept thinking about Jesus and the woman at the well--and about Manuel at our lunch table. I snapped my wristband against my wrist, trying to stop thinking about him. And in my heart I asked Jesus, What would you do?34
Chapter 7
THE FOLLOWING MORNINGWHEN I ARRIVED AT HOMEROOM, MANUEL AND
ANGIE WERE ALREADY THERE, CHATTING QUIETLY.I said hi and sat down beside them.
Suddenly I got the feeling people were staring over at us. But when I looked around, people glanced away. Was I getting paranoid?The bell rang, followed by announcements blasting from the loudspeaker. When the end-of-homeroom bell rang, people clamored out of the room. And in the last row, Jude Maldonado announced to one of his buddies: "If I saw two guys walk down the street holding hands, I'd take a baseball bat and kill them."An angry flush crept up the back of my neck. That moment made me want to pound Jude, even though I'd never been in a fight in my life.
Impulsively, I turned to face him."Yeah?" Jude glared back at me. "What are you looking at?"I stared at him a moment, sizing him up. Then I turned away, annoyed at myself. His stupid comments didn't merit attention. But at the same time he'd fueled my suspicions: Had people begun to talk about Manuel?While I sat in morning classes, an even tougher question35weighed on my mind: If I associated with Manuel, would people start talking about me}When lunchtime arrived, I stood in the food line, gazing across the cafeteria at my lunch table. Angie and Dakota were talking with Manuel, but Elizabeth was conspicuously absent. That didn't totally surprise me. She was probably still riled at Dakota for making fun of her in Bible study."What can I get you today?" The cafeteria lady smiled at me.Glancing down at the aluminum trays, I settled on the fried chicken; then I trudged toward my table."Hi." Angie pulled a chair out for me.As I set my tray down, I noticed Elizabeth sitting across the room with Cliff, several of his football teammates, and some of their girlfriends. Manuel followed my gaze and asked, "How come Elizabeth isn't sitting with us?"I glanced away, letting Angie and Dakota respond. "I think she wants to keep closer tabs on Cliff," Angie told Manuel."She's jealous of his ex," Dakota added.Manuel's eyebrows arched up, as if he sensed there was more. Angie and Dakota exchanged a look."Well, actually . . ." Dakota pushed a loose strand of red curl behind her ear.
"She also thinks we shouldn't associate with somebody ... gay.""Ah." Manuel nodded. Then he glanced over at me, as if once again implying I might be gay. But this time I refused to look away. Let him think what he wanted."Look..." Manuel set his fork down from his lasagna. "I don't want to break up your group. I'll go sit somewhere else.""No," Angie protested. "You don't have to do that.""Yeah, please don't!" Dakota agreed. "Elizabeth will get over it."I stayed silent, biting into a chicken wing. Even though I felt36bad for Manuel, the prospect of not having to be seen with him offered some relief."No, better I go," Manuel said, grabbing his tray. He pasted on a smile, but it seemed like the saddest smile in the world. "Thanks for letting me sit with you guys."Angie called after him. "Manuel!"He ignored her calls and wandered across the cafeteria. I watched him, curious who he'd sit with, but I wasn't able to see where he ended up. When I glanced back at Angie and Dakota, both were glowering at me."What?" I asked innocently."You know what." Dakota's gray eyes were smoldering."Why didn't you say anything?" Angie elaborated."Because he's right." I tossed down my chicken wing. "He is breaking up our group.""No, he's not!" Dakota argued. "Elizabeth's the one breaking it up."Angie clenched her jaw, not saying another word. I knew that meant she was angry. But what could I say? I focused on my chicken till the bell rang.After school, when I met Angie in the seniors' lot to go to choir practice, she didn't toss me her car keys. Instead, she drove.Halfway to church she said, "Can I ask you something?"From experience I knew that that question signaled the start of an argument.
I sat up in my seat, bracing myself. "Yeah.""Why don't you like him?"Obviously, she meant Manuel. I took a breath and chose my words carefully. "It's not that I don't like him. I just don't want to hang out with him. And I don't think you should either."Angie stopped the car for a red light and gave me a sideways glance. "Are you jealous of him?"37"Jealous?" The question confused me. "He's gay! Why would I be jealous?""I don't know." She turned the car into the church parking lot. I slid down in my seat, irritated by the conversation. "He's bad news.""Well,"
Angie said, "if you don't want to hang out with him, that's up to you. But I don't care if he is gay.
I like him.""Fine." I gave a shrug, not wanting to argue anymore.After choir practice she didn't invite me over for dinner. When I asked if she wanted to come over to my house, she merely said,
"I can't tonight. Thanks."Once I arrived home, I tried my best to put any more thoughts of Manuel out of my mind. I made my pa and me meat loaf and corn for dinner. Later that evening I was doing homework at my computer when an IM from GetReal_BeReah^i2 appeared:Sup? I hope I didn't screw up u guys 'friendship with Elizabeth.I stared at the message, debating whether to respond. I didn't want to encourage him. Finally, I typed, That's okay.Manuel replied at once: If u don't want to talk to me at school, just tell me.His words made me feel like a creep. Could he tell I didn't want to be seen with him? Our town and school were too small to truly avoid someone.
Besides, even when I disliked somebody, I always tried my best to get along.My leg jiggled nervously as I told Manuel, Don't worry about it.I hoped that might end our conversation, but unfortunately, he seemed to take it as an invitation to friendship: Wanna hang out this weekend?My hands fumbled across the keyboard. I'm kind of busy with a concert at church.I waited, hoping he'd take the hint.38OK, he replied. Good luck with it. Knock 'em alive!I let out a sigh. Later, when I said my prayers and reviewed the day's events, one question Angie had asked kept reverberating in my brain: Was I jealous of Manuel?I still didn't understand why she'd asked that--and I had no idea what to pray in response.39
Chapter 8
EVEN THOUGH I HAD TOLD MANUEL IT WAS OKAY TO TALK TO ME AT SCHOOL, I
STILL FELT NERVOUS ABOUT IT. WHEN I GOT TO HOMEROOM THE FOLLOWING
MORNING, I HUNG OUT AT MY LOCKER AND CHATTED WITH FRIENDS, WAITING
FOR THE BELL TO RING BEFORE GOING IN TO SIT BESIDE HIM.My fears weren't groundless. As the week progressed, the stares and whispers about him multiplied:"Did you hear that new guy is gay} He said so himself.""Oh, my God! You serious? Th
at's so gross"On Friday afternoon when the final bell rang, I bolted out the door, welcoming the weekend.Saturday morning, I slept till nearly noon. Then I spent most of the afternoon doing homework and chores: laundry, vacuuming, washing Pa's truck...Around six, Raquel came over for dinner with Pa. After gabbing with her a while, I drove over to Angie's. Saturday was our regular date night. We almost always did the same thing: go out for dinner and a movie, usually by ourselves, though sometimes with friends. There wasn't much else to do.40Tonight I took her a little stuffed panda I'd picked up at the store, even though she'd gotten over her anger at me about Manuel. At her house I helped with the evening feeding of adopted cats and dogs. Then for our own dinner we agreed on the little Chinese restaurant, one of the few options for eating out in our town.On our drive Angie was in a sweet, happy mood. She smiled at me, played with the panda, and rubbed my hand between hers. Over dinner we talked about our upcoming SATs and about universities for next year. We had discussed going to college together, and Angie wanted to apply to Texas AM's veterinary school. Her life's dream was to be a vet. Mine was to be a minister.We made it through our veggie pot stickers, Ma-Po tofu, and stir-fried eggplant without any mention of Manuel.
When we broke open our fortune cookies, Angie's said: If you think the sea is blue and I think it's green, why try to convince you?"That's true!" Angie laughed, her ponytail bouncing back. I loved her laugh--self-assured and joyful.My fortune said: For sunlight to shine through a window, the blinds must be raised.To me, both messages seemed kind of, like, duh.After dinner we headed to a movie at our town's one dinky little mall--or, as we called it, the (s)mall. The film was a romantic comedy that followed the standard Hollywood formula: boy meets girl, loses girl, and wins girl back. Along the way, boy and girl get into a heavy make-out session and usually land in bed.In contrast, Angie and I had been a couple for nearly five years but had never gone beyond making out, much less landed in bed. After all, we were Christians. At least that's how I rationalized it. I didn't admit that my passion for her all took place above my waist. I'd never thought about sex with her. Instead, I tried to be the perfect boyfriend, imitating the romantic gestures I'd41watched Pa show my ma: I held doors for Angie, gave her chocolates on Valentine's Day, slipped my jacket onto her shoulders if she felt cold ...I loved her--of that I had no doubt.