"I'll see you at the picnic, right?" Amory asked, leaning against my car door. I nodded, pressing my forehead against his, placing my hand on his lower back. . A small smile crept onto his lips, and I could guess what he was thinking. "You have some time...we could mess around for a little."

I shook my head and tousled his blond curls. "I'm meeting Diego at the diner in like 15 minutes."

Amory sighed and nodded, slowly tracing his fingers up my arm. I stared at him, watching his disappointed pout turn into a small smile. "Okay."

"Besides, your dad is home and I'm not trying to get lectured."

"It was one time."

"That was all it took," I added. "I'll meet up with you later."

He wrapped his arms around my waist and gave me a tight squeeze before glancing up at me. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered.

Diego was in town this weekend, and I was planning to come out to him.

He called me yesterday and let me know he'd be making a quick visit to town. He was hoping to stop by and see me before he stopped in the city. It took me a while to get back to him. I just kept listening to his voicemail. Debating whether or not I wanted to see him.

But in the end, I thought it might be the right time to ask for help. If he was willing to give me any.

If everything goes wrong with my dad, then maybe he'd take me in. He might mind, but I think he'd rather do things in spite of our dad than care if his little brother liked boys. But I was still scared, and in the back of my mind I could only picture his disappointment, or his anger.

But for once, I was hopeful.

"Okay," I said.

I sat at the booth, anxiously waiting for him to appear at the doors. I picked a relatively popular place in town. I wanted it to be public–just in case he wanted to–I don't know–I just don't know what to think anymore. I still can't figure my brother out.

All I knew for certain was that I didn't want to hide. I especially didn't want to hide Amory, he was always meant to shine. I wanted to show him that this thing we had together–it felt real to me. Too important not to share with my friends or my family.

"We need a haircut, muchacho." Diego pulled me from my thoughts as he stood tall at the end of the booth. I nervously laughed and reached out for his hand, but he pulled me up for a hug.

"You look tired," he said.

I pulled away from his embrace and shrugged. "I've had a lot on my mind recently. It kinda shows, I guess."

He sat across from me in the booth and peaked through the menu. "I get it, you're getting closer to graduating. Only one more year left and then it's off to college, right?"

"Yeah, but that's not–"

Suddenly our waitress appeared, her eyes immediately locked onto Diego. "Can I get you two boys anything to drink?"

Diego glanced up from his menu and pointed towards me, "What do you want?"

"Oh–I don't–a Sprite, I guess."

He nodded. "One Sprite and I'll take Dr. Pepper," he said, smiling at the waitress. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled.

"I'll be right back with those drinks," she said, keeping her gaze stuck on my brother. He awkwardly glanced at me and nodded. Diego always drew attention; he's popular. It's something no one in my family ever lets me forget.

"She's cute," he said. "You should ask for her number."

I rolled my eyes. "She looked more interested in you than me."

He chuckled and scrunched his nose at my comment.

"I'm joking," he said. "Que te pasa?"

And it's at that moment Diego looked exactly like my dad. I always thought he did, but right now all I could see was him. All I could hear in his voice was my dad.

The same inflection, the same tone, the same callousness.

I wanted to turn back around and stop myself from ever coming into this diner.

"Nothing."

"What's wrong?" He asked again, this time setting down the menu.

I was a lot more scared than I ever thought I would be. To the point I couldn't manage to make a sound.

Diego leaned in, reaching his hand out for me. "Apollo, it's okay. You can tell me."

I nodded, fidgeting with my keys. "You may not like me after this, and–and I'll understand if you get mad..." I paused, glancing up at him. There was softness to his features, and suddenly he didn't look like our dad anymore. He was just Diego. I stared back down at my hands, at the dried skin by my fingernails. "I'm seeing someone right now."

Diego shrugged. "That's great. I don't under–"

"It's my friend–well he's my friend."

And in that moment I can see the wheels turning in his head, but it's not enough.

"My...boyfriend, he's a guy."

Diego was straight faced. I couldn't read him, and I didn't like that. He was the type of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve. He'd let you know how he felt before you even asked.

"Fuck, that's it?" He sighed. He dropped his head and chuckled. "I thought you got into some bad shit. Don't scare me like that," he said.

"You're not mad–you don't hate me?"

He looked amused by my reaction, and smirked. "Nah, I always kinda knew." He paused, glancing at my Star Wars phone case. "You were a little too obsessed with Luke Skywalker–and Anakin–and Princess Leia. I guess that whole fam–"

"Shut up," I said, snatching my phone from the table.

"Am I the first one that knows?" He asked.

I shook my head. "Lee, April, and Mom know."

He nodded. "You haven't told dad?" He asked, glancing down at the table.

I shook my head. "I guess, I'm telling you this just in case."

"In case of what?" Diego asked.

"In case Dad gets angry with me...If he kicks me out. I want to move in with you," I said.

Diego shook his head and sighed.

"Thanks," he said. "...for telling me. I'm glad you came to me but..." he paused. He glanced out the window, like he was thinking of something else. "Mom and Dad aren't going to do that."

"Diego! Dad kicked you out for much less! A lot of teenagers smoke and drink!"

"Apollo, you've done nothing wrong! You loving someone isn't bad!" He said. "What I did was bad. I put myself, my family, and the people I love in danger."

"Dad didn't have to kick you out."

"Apollo, he never kicked me out. Dad was always looking for someone to help me, I just didn't want it." He glanced down at the table, then at me. "I left because I couldn't stand how disappointed he was in me. He's tried so many times, but I kept screwing up. It's easier to stay away. He's angry with me because of all that, but he wasn't always so critical of me." He lets out a deep breath. "I think he's finally given up on me."

"Dad wants me to be the son you were always supposed to be, and I don't want to disappoint him." There was a lump growing in my throat, and I could feel it rising up. "But I can't be that for him." I cried. "I'm so afraid that he'll hate me."

Diego shook his head. "No, no, Apollo." There were tears forming in his eyes. "Our old man loves you. You make him proud just by living. This thing you've put inside your head is just all that machismo shit that's beaten into us! Dad's not going to hate you for dating some boy. Yeah, he may say some insensitive shit, he's old, but that doesn't mean he's not willing to change the way he feels. Especially when it comes to you."

I covered my eyes with my sleeves. Listening to the chatter around us in the diner.

"But if it makes you feel better," he began, "Then you can pack a bag just in case. I'll come get you."

I nodded, wiping the tears from my cheek. There was a brief silence. An awkward silence, but it was meant to be there. Diego and I were still learning how to be with one another. Maybe one day it'll just be silence, but the good kind.

Diego glanced down at my phone and asked, "Do I get to meet him?"

"What?"

"You're boyfriend," he said. "Can you tell me about him?"

"Oh," I said. "His name is Amory...he's really nice—just a little shy at first."

"You like him?"

I slowly nodded.

"Is he cute?" Diego teased.

I glared at him.

He shrugged, and smirked. "Luke Skywalker cute?"

"Shut up."

—

Amory leaned over, bumping his head onto my shoulder while everyone was distracted by the music performance in front of them.

"How'd it go?" Amory whispered.

"Like you said," I whispered into his ear. He smiled and placed his hand a few inches from mine. There was always a distance between us. In public it was always calculated and thought out. How close could we possibly get without actually touching? Without people noticing.

I glanced over at the group of people in front of us.

Michelle Healy was sitting on her blanket, with her girlfriend's head in her lap. Her hand stroked her hair in slow motions while the other held onto her hand. I stared back down at our hands, the distance between us. I realized–I didn't want to be this far from him–even if it was an inch.

I just wanted him.

"Are you okay?" He whispered in my ear.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

I smiled. "About inchworms."

He scrunched his face in confusion. "You're weird."

"I like you too," I said. 

He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the stage and discretely tapped his foot against my leg.