DANTE WAS ON THE PHONE. And he was talking and talking. Sometimes he talked too much and it was a little annoying. But sometimes I loved that he talked so much. “We’re almost done, Ari. We’re kicking ass.”
“Is this Dante pretending to be Ari?”
“You know, I sometimes do talk like everybody else that passes you in the hallway.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
“Just be quiet. I’m talking about how we are almost done with this thing called high school and I’m just fuckin’ excited about it. Good-bye, all-boys Catholic school.”
“And this coming from a guy who likes guys.”
“Not the guys from Cathedral. I like this guy who goes to Austin High.”
“Tell me about him.”
“Nope. I don’t kiss and tell.”
“I’m going to hang up now.”
“I’m crazy about you.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re just plain crazy.”
Really, it was me who was crazy. I was crazy for him. Or like some of the women in the movies. They’re mad about the guy they’re in love with. Madly in love. Yeah. That was an expression I think I understood. See, love wasn’t about thinking, it was a kind of state that affected the entire body with this thing called desire. Or want. Or whatever the hell you wanted to call it. And it made you mad with desire. Or just mad. Or just plain crazy. I was crazy. I was. I admit it.
And another thing, I was also mad with grief. I know that sounded like a badly written line from a telenovela. But it was the fucking truth. Yeah. I woke every day thinking about my father. So being madly in love gave me some stability. That’s really crazy.