When AC came back from the past, Manny was back to complaining. “As if the whole world wouldn’t know we’re gay, someone had the bright idea to make us a rainbow of T-shirt colors while on tour.” Manny paused again, but just for a second. “Mexico?”
AC looked over at him.
“That’s where you were going?”
AC nodded.
“You speak Spanish?”
The space between AC’s thumb and index finger fluctuated as he tried to decide how much.
“Uno piquito?”
Nodding was getting old already and they’d barely moved five miles.
“El hombre es hermoso. Esos ojos, esos labios, el regalo que deseo abrir en la mañana de Navidad o tal vez antes. El hombre es hermoso. I just made that up. It sucks. I write poetry like a third grader. Do you know what I said?”
AC loved the Spanish language when spoken by someone flu
