Getting It by Alex Sanchez

turned to Carlos. “Thanks, but … Saturday is our date night.”
    â€œOh.” Carlos noticed they were holding hands again. “Well …um … I guess I’ll see you later, then.”
    As he climbed out, Sal rolled down the window. “Remember to cleanse your face before bed!” Javier leaned across Sal and said, “Nice meeting you!”
    â€œSame here.” Carlos waved back and watched them drive off, feeling sort of left behind.
    In the apartment, Raúl lay on the sofa watching TV. “Hey, new hairstyle, huh? Looks nice.”
    â€œThanks. Can you check my friend’s axle if he brings his car to your garage?”
    â€œSure. No problem. Want to watch the game?”
    â€œWhat’s the score?” Carlos dropped his gym bag and plopped down in the big chair where his pa used to sit.
    While they watched the game, Raúl occasionally commented on some play or asked Carlos about school. Carlos liked that Raúl never tried to interfere in his life, unlike his ma’s two previous boyfriends.
    After the game, Raúl invited Carlos and his ma out to a Chinese restaurant. Apparently, the place was where Raúl took Carlos’s ma every Saturday evening, when Carlos was with his pa. All the staff seemed to know them. Across from him in the booth, the two of them sat close together. Once again, Carlos felt left out. He stared down at his shrimp fried rice and wished he had someone special too. He wished he had Roxy.
    After dinner, they drove back to the apartment building. As they pulled into the parking lot, his ma asked Carlos, “Did you invite your friends over?”
    â€œNo. Why?” He looked out the window. Playboy, Pulga, and Toro were sitting on the steps.
    Carlos’s ma and Raúl said hi to the boys and went inside, leaving Carlos with them. “’S’up?” Carlos asked.
    Playboy stared at Carlos’s hair. “Dude, we need to talk to you.”
    â€œWe heard about you and Sal,” Pulga explained. “And his
boyfriend.”
    Carlos shot a look at Toro, who lowered his gaze.
    â€œCome on, man,” Playboy ordered Carlos. “What’s going on?”
    Carlos crossed his arms, debating what to do. Obviously, his friends were growing more aggravated. And he was getting tired of hiding. If he told them the truth, they’d probably laugh their asses off. But at least he could stop hiding.
    â€œOkay.” Carlos drew a deep breath. “You know that TV show,
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy?
Well, I thought …” He wiped his brow and realized he was sweating. “I thought that Sal could help me, so, um, Roxy would notice me.”
    Playboy’s forehead furrowed. Pulga’s jaw dropped. Toro gave Carlos a puzzled look. “So you’re not gay?” He almost sounded let down.
    â€œNo!” Carlos narrowed his eyes at him. “Are
you?”
    Toro’s face paled so fast that Carlos wondered if maybe Sal and Javier had been right.
Was
Toro gay?
    â€œLook!” Playboy snapped at Carlos. “We want to know
—are
you?” Carlos felt his collar tighten. Were his friends listening? Why had he bothered to hide his whole makeover plan, since they weren’t going to believe him anyway?
    â€œYeah!” Carlos said sarcastically “I’m gay. Don’t tell anyone.”
    â€œDude, don’t joke like that,” Pulga warned him. “Are you?”
    â€œOh, screw you! Screw all of you.” Carlos left them on the steps and went inside, slamming the door behind him.

Twenty-Eight
    C ARLOS FELT BAD about blowing up at his buds. But hadn’t they deserved it?
    He tossed his jean jacket onto his dresser and glanced at the photo taped beside his mirror. It was of the four of them, taken at a theme park on Carlos’s thirteenth birthday They’d posed beside a roller coaster, each boy with his fingers raised into “horns” behind another