“I got our prom passes.” Angel came up the steps at my mom’s.
“You’re going to get in trouble for being at my house.” I pretended I was engrossed in my new flip phone, so I didn’t have to look at him.
“I just wrote right on the site when I ordered them…for Angel Ramos and Noah Mann.”
Our school was pretty accepting. Any torment we’d gotten earlier in junior high for “acting like faggots” had ended.
“How many people have told you since you can do way better than me?” He could probably smell the beer on my breath.
“You have to come back to school to go to prom.” Angel stopped my foot from bouncing by putting his on top of it. “Look at me, Noah.”
I did, and I had to bite my cheek not to cry, because of how much I wanted him, and how much I tried not to.
“I love you. I wish I could get
