CHAPTER TWO

It's a weird a feeling waking up really early. I'm certain I'm the only one awake in the house at this moment, and I get it, because it's 5AM. Normally my mom wakes up around 7AM to get ready for work, and also to prepare the stuff the babysitter needs to take care of my baby brother.

I stare at the ceiling, which is white and has the solar system glowing in the dark. The outside is completely moonless. My curtains are splitted apart. I can see the dark sky with not even a single start in it.

My phone is on the bedside table. I grab it, and the screen illuminates my face. I have a lot of notifications on my locked screen from different apps. I don't even bother to look at them. Yesterday I downloaded the Facebook app on my phone. So that's what I care about right now. Facebook opens on my screen and on the searcher I type Tyler, and quickly get his profile as a suggestion. His relationship status hasn't changed. He's still "in a relationship with Tadeo Gonazales-Lopez." Though I know it will change. Eventually. Tyler is not a Facebook guy.

My profile settings appear on my screen, and I change my relationship status to single. No hope less. I don't think there's a going back. I'd love that, but I have to be realistic.

On Messenger there are two new messages from this guy who started texting me yesterday. Benjamin Moore. So you're gay, huh? He said.

     Some people from Weddington High know about my sexuality. Not all of them, of course. I am not popular among the 1,324 students enrolled in Weddington. Possibly around 50 students out of 1,324 know about me dating Tyler.

     I text back: What makes you think I'm gay?

     He's online right now. Is he having trouble sleeping? Or probably he hasn't gone to sleep yet.

     There's this lake where my neighborhood's park is located. I don't know what's going on inside my mind at this moment, but I get up and put some shoes on and open my room's door quietly so my mom can't hear. I don't want to wake her up.

Before stepping down stairs, my brother opens his bedroom's door. He stands there staring at me.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"Go back to sleep."

"You got training today?" He asks.

"Did mom tell you?"

I called mom a few minutes after getting home and told her I've obtained the job. When she was back from work I was already asleep. Possibly she mentioned my little brother about my new job.

"She seemed to be excited about it," Anthony says. "She said now you'll be able to help her with the rent."

     The house we're leaving in wasn't cheap at all. My mom is still paying for it. And I get the "be able to pay rent" comment. I know she've spent thousand of dollars in order to keep my brothers and me safe. She has given us everything after my dad's death. I think that's the main reason why she decided to move to this country. She thought we would have a better life living in the United States. The American Dream. I can't really be mad about it. I've had a great life since I moved to this country. Not that is my favorite place, but I'm okay. The people around here are kind of nice.

     Anthony is 12-year-old. His skin color... He's really white to be considered American by Latinos. I can't say the same about myself. I mean, it's not that I'm a brown Latino guy. No. My skin tone isn't just too white to be considered American. And I am not trying to make other people think I'm a white guy.

     "Go back to sleep," I say to Anthony. "We have school in two hours."

     "Actually," he says. "I was going to the restroom."

      "Okay. Go."

     I wait for him to start walking to the restroom to restart my way downstairs. He gets in and closes the door. Quickly, I step downstairs, and go to the main door. When I open it, it makes a screeching sound. I look back, thinking that my mom could be behind me. There's no one, though.

     As I step outside, I check my phone and there's a new message from Benjamin Moore. I saw you once at school with this guy in my AP Euro class.

     I think his name is Tyler.

     Tyler has shared time with this guy. There are high probabilities Benjamin is gay. However, his profile didn't mention anything related to his sexuality. Most people I have added on Facebook say their sexuality on the app. Moore does not.

     I walk towards the park which is four minutes way from my house. Now the idea of walking on the lake shore doesn't seem to be great, because I should be getting more rest. Training is at 4PM; one hour after school.

     I text Benjamin back: We broke up.

     He's typing... Typing...

     Finally he says: I'm sorry to hear that. Y'all seem really happy when I saw you both a while ago.

     Same. I never saw our breaking up coming up. We were so in love and suddenly all that love faded away. And the thought of it makes me feel like if I was falling apart.

     The park is illuminated by the municipal street lights. Like I thought, I'm the only one who can be seen around. Normally, some people practice exercising their bodies at this time, but today there's no one.

     Benjamin adds another message: Idk if you're interested...

     Why is it so hard to complete the message at once? He should write a full text and then send it.

I have a cousin who's gay.

     And I am not interested about that.

     Angrily I text back: What makes you think I'm interested?

     The water's lake is fully dark. I wish I could swim, but the water must be freezing.

Benjamin has noticed I'm mad by his text: I didn't mean it in that way. I was just trying to be helpful.

First of all, why did he text me? I ask that to him, and he says if I don't like texting with him, he's going to stop texting me. And I don't care if he stops texting me. He seems to be a pain in the arse.

School is over. Today was a B day, which means I didn't have Physical Education. I saw Tyler once in the hallways when I was going to my AP Euro class. He looked at me once, and then moved quickly to his Algebra class. We have the same teacher for Algebra 2 Honors. We have the class on different periods, though.

"Is your mom taking you to your training?" Connie asks me when I get to the parking lot. "Do you need me to give you a ride?"

She's already taking me home. I don't really want to be bothering her. "I can walk or—"

"Absolutely no. I'm taking you," she adds quickly.

"But I'll buy some gas," I say, firmly.

"Definitely no. I'm not letting you do that."

"Then I'm walking... I'll call Uber."

"Okay. Fine! You can buy me that gas."

We get in the car. The songs playing are by The Neighbourhood. At the moment, R.I.P. 2 My Youth is playing. Connie is singing the song as it plays. I love when she dances as she drives. It's just an odd feeling. It's like we're the only people in the world and I'm seeing the person who's going to be there for me forever. She'll never leave.

     The song ends, and Connie says, "Do you want to be early to your training?"

     "Why?" I ask.

     I don't feel like being early and wait there for minutes until they decide it is time for me to take the customers' orders.

     "They'll see your punctual," she answers, quickly. "You know what I mean, right?"

     "I don't even know if I need a uniform!"

     Indeed we need a uniform. How could I've forgotten that? The time I came looking for the job the people working were wearing a uniform which has a small logo up on the left side of the shirt. The uniform is great; it doesn't have long sleeves. I hate long sleeves. Though I wear hoodies most of the time.

     "Hi," I say to the person at front. She's behind the register. I remember I saw her the time I came looking for the job.

     "Table for two?" she asks, nicely.

     "No. Actually, today is my training," I say, nervously. "Is Mr. Walters around here?"

"I'll be right back," she says, and leaves from the back of the register. Her blond and long hair looks incredible radiant from behind.

I look back to Connie. "Are you going to stay?"

"Well... You promised you'll pay for my gas."

We both laugh.

"And I will," I confirm. "Perhaps tomorrow?"

The blond girl comes back with a woman. She's in her forties. You can actually tell that. She's gotten brown hair, and blue eyes. She's probably six feet tall.

"Hi," I say, smiley. "I'm Tadeo Gonzales. I was informed today's my straining."

     "Yes! My name is Breyana Walters. Nice to meet you," the woman says, stretching her hand to me. "Do you have any experience about what is being a waiter?" she asks as she let off my hand.

Mr. Walters already has received some information about that. I let him know it was my first time being a waiter when I came looking for the job. I guess he didn't mention a word to his wife.

"No, ma'am," I say, trying not to sound disappointed. "This is my first time being a server."

"Well, no worries, dear," she says, cheering me up. "That's why you're on training today. Here" —She grabs the blond girl by her left arm— "Agnes is going to be your trainer."

     When we're about to start training, Connie stands up. "I think it's time for me to leave."

     I stand up. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

     She hugs me. "Good luck, my boy. Let me know how everything goes."

     "Will do. Thanks."

     As she's leaving the restaurant, a guy, probably my age, gets inside the restaurant. He's wearing the uniform: black jeans, white sleeveless shirt, and black Vans. He's also carrying a black The North Face backpack on his back.

     "I thought you were not working today," Agnes says when she sees the guy.

"Apparently we're getting a new guy," he hasn't seen me. "I'm here in case he messes things up."

I'm hurt. Not going to lie.

"Oh," Agnes says, looking at me. "There he is."

The guy's face begins to turn red as fast as he sees me. "Oh, hey." He walks inside this small hallway, which directs to the other entrance. There are some small hooks attack to the wood wall. He hangs his backpack using one of them.

When he's back I ask, "What do you carry in your backpack?"

"I do some homework when we're not too busy," he replies. "AP Euro is getting hard."

"Mrs. Hutchinson?" I ask.

     "Yes," he says, surprised. "Wait, you go to Weddington High?"

     "I do."

     "Yes!" Agnes says, out of nowhere. "I remember you now. You're in my Biology class."

     I am not trying to be mean, but I don't know her. I've never seen her before. I mean, there are around thirty students in my Biology Honors class. I barely know four of them.

     "I'm sorry, I haven't introduce myself," the nameless guy says. "Zephan Clark-Rubio."

"Nice to meet you," I say. "Tyler Gonzales here."

"We'd start training right now," Agnes suggests.

"Indeed." Zephan agrees.

Outside's getting illuminated by the bright moon. The time advances and the training hasn't been bad at all. I didn't mess up on any order. The customers have left the restaurant satisfied. Pretty sure I've done a wonderful job. And I can confirm that when it's time to start cleaning before closing. Mrs. Walters says I'll keep my job if I continue doing what I was doing today.

Agnes and Zephan were the nicest people at work. They helped me out a lot. Agnes taught me how to put the orders in the computer and send them to the kitchen. On the other hand, Zephan taught me what the food looks like after being prepared. There are thirty-one combinations in the dinner menu. Do I know at least one? The answer is no.

     Before closing, we have to make sure the napkin holders and salt shakers are clean. Also, we have to sweep the section we have used. There are four sections: A1, A2, B, and C. Each section is composed of 6 tables, except for C, which has twelve tables and is located in the back of the restaurant. A1, A2, and B are located at front. The tables are organized around the restaurant forming a U. On the center of that U, the biggest tables are found. I guess those are when families come all together. We didn't have one of those today.

     "What are you doing?" I ask Zephan when I see he's clicking a button on the computer that says "Clock Out."

     "Of course you don't have a code yet," he says, looking around. "There! Mrs. Walter." He calls.

     Now I remember I was using her code today, just to put orders. According to Agnes, she doesn't trust other people to use her code, because you can do a lot of things with it on the computer.

"Tadeo was wondering how he's going to get his tips," Zephan lies. I forgot people leave tips with credit card.

"Come here," Mrs. Walters says to me, getting closer to the computer. She inserts her code and on the screen the 36 tables we have appear. Quickly, she gets to the section of clocking in/out. "You'll do this when you get your own code. On Monday, you're coming back. You'll be ready with your uniform, and you'll have your code. And don't forget I'll give you the money you've made with credit card. The cash you've made today you must keep it. That's yours."

Agnes is gone, and my other coworker, from whom I didn't learn his name, too. Gone. Zephan is speaking to Mrs. Walters.

I received a message from my mom: I feel so bad. I can't come to pick you up, dear. Could you ask your friend Connie if she can pick you up? I have a headache. I'm really sorry.

I text back: Don't worry.

I decide I want to walk home. It's not too far. Probably, thirty minutes away.

"I'll see you Monday, guys!" I say, smiling. "Good night!"

"Good night, Tadeo," says Mrs. Walters.

"Maybe I'll see you on Monday at school," Zephan says. "Good night!"

I leave the restaurant, and stay outside for three minutes before I start walking towards the pedestrian call button so I can cross the street. Within that time, Zephan comes outside as well.

"Is someone coming for you?" he asks. "Your mom?"

"She's sick," I let him know. "I'm walking home today."

"No way. I can give you a ride home."

"No. Thank you."

"I'm being serious," and he does sound serious. "Let's go!"

He begins his way to the car.

I don't move. Then he stops walking, comes back and grabs me from my arm and drags me to the car.

"Don't be shy!" He says. "You'll be fine."

His car is not the newest one nor the oldest one.

"So you're a sophomore?" he asks me when I sit on the passenger seat.

"Yes, sir," I reply, nodding. "And so are you, right?"

"No. I'm a junior," he says, sounding a little bit ashamed. "I wasn't able to take AP Euro last year. My counselor thought I did bad on World History 1 Honors. So she recommended me to take World History 2 Honors instead of an AP class."

"What I think is you shouldn't let anyone tell you what you can and cannot do."

"You're right."

We stay in silence as he starts driving. I gave him my address and he's using his GPS to direct him.

"Here," he's handing me his phone. "Choose your favorite music."

He's letting me use his phone? He's one of the nicest guy I've ever met. Certainly. He has Spotify on his phone, so I open it and search for Kenny Chesney. I play the first song in suggestions. It starts playing, and possibly five seconds has passed when Zephan shouts out the name of the song.

"Knowing you," he says with his eyes on me. "You know Kenny Chesney?"

I nod. "He's one of my favorites."

The song plays as he drives me home and we talk about our favorite music. And there's this odd feeling inside me... We've got a whole bunch of things in common. It's like if Tyler and I were getting to know each other for the first time again.