"The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School" by Sonora Reyes, Chapters 18–27

November 5, 2022
Sixteen-year-old Yamilet Flores is a queer Mexican-American girl who navigates Catholic school and first love while learning to be authentic to herself.

Here are links to our lists for the novel: Chapters 1–5, Chapters 6–12, Chapters 13–17, Chapters 18–27
I wake up in the morning with an insatiable need to dance.
“Again!” she squeals, and I happily oblige.
I take a step back, suddenly realizing how awkward it is that I’m in the middle of this very intimate family discussion.
She’s an enigma.
This job is pretty simple. It’s really just checking my emails and bookkeeping for me, so you should be able to handle it just fine with your current experience.
Cesar comes into the bathroom, and he’s even groggier than usual, with dark circles under his eyes.
I wait for her to be out of eyeshot before I put my hand on my chest and swoon.
She gives Bo a smug smile, like she’s expecting Bo to be jealous, or to have at least heard of her, which she hasn’t.
Before I can overthink the implications of today, and that kiss, my phone starts buzzing.
“Jamal?” I ask, taken aback. I glance at Bo, who looks surprised, hurt almost.
She’s clutching her rosary and whispering prayers in Spanish through her sobs.
Not knowing what I’m going to do is the biggest weight off my shoulders I could have imagined. The uncertainty is exhilarating because now I have a choice.
“Sure. What about the Bible?” He gives her a skeptical look.
She’s trying to make up for what Dad did. At Cesar’s comment, her smile disappears, and she looks into his eyes all sad, giving up the charade.
I know it’s not the most tactful way of asking, but when have I ever been known for being tactful?
I don’t know what else there is to say, but I just really hope my thank-you is enough to convey how much it means to me.
“You’re okay with that?” Cesar asks, incredulous.
“Do you think maybe it would help to join some kind of support group? Maybe something with kids your own age?” Mami asks tentatively.
All the art is set up in the gym, like a maze. There are makeshift hallways up so that you follow them and see each piece one by one.
“Bo, I know public demonstrations are more your thing than mine”—that gets a couple of chuckles—“but I want to be more like you. I don’t want to apologize about who I am, or how I look, or what I feel. I think you’re amazing, and inspiring, and beautiful, and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. Will you go to prom with me?”
We want to keep a wholesome environment, so inappropriate dancing will be given one warning, then you’ll be asked to leave. Couples, make sure to leave room for the Holy Spirit—that means one foot of space!
I want to be clear that Slayton Catholic does not endorse romantic same-sex couples for prom.
Because I was really looking forward to prom. With Bo. Even if we had to pretend to be going platonically.
David and Amber take their seats as close to me and Bo as they’re allowed, and before we know it, the tables have filled up. Everyone starts standing against the walls. They’re orchestrating a sit-in for me and Bo.
She doesn’t bring it up the whole ride. I know she was sort of in on the whole promposal plan, but she’s not the most consistent person in the world.
I know I’m not the only one here who doesn’t agree with the rules. So, this is for anyone who feels disenfranchised by this school or the code of conduct, or if you want to be able to wear what you want, and dance without leaving room for Jesus. I’m going to be hosting anti-prom at my house.
After a whole lot of prodding, we finally get out of the house and head to dinner.
They don’t get to insert themselves into our night to clear their guilty consciences.
Hunter and Emily show up with an entourage of about twenty kids, mostly jocks.

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