Electric Tacos (Wattys 2023)

TWENTY NINE

He avoided Ricky as much as he could for the next few weeks; he took up extra shifts in Electric Tacos, went to help out at the Drama department, got grooming advice from Chuck, finished up his drawings, revised the play alone, told everyone he wasn't "gay" gay (he was very drunk, and showing his appreciation for the season), had his Nochebuena/Christmas double bill, talked to Tito at his place, and even went to hang around with Chino a couple of times...

... Until he couldn't take it anymore.

Out of the blue, he called Ricky and asked him if he was going to the New Year's Party with La Hermandad at Tito's at seven. He also said he was sorry for ghosting him, rather nervously and Ricky said that they needed to talk there.

Mateo agreed, then he sat down the phone and sighed.

He was excited about that night but needed to get in the mood and be calm. He had some weed, drank some beer, and wore a black shirt, and khaki shorts, and tried to compose himself.

He also read some magazines at the kitchen table about art, science, and music. He was sipping some coffee when Marisol walked in:

"Why do you look presentable?" She asked him.

Mateo took a sip of coffee and looked up at her. "Why do you not? You look like crap."

Marisol rolled her eyes. "I'm just back from work, something you should be doing."

Mateo glared. "Today's my day off. I'm going out to a party tonight."

"Did you tell Dad?"

"I told him I was gonna go out tonight, yeah. He said that's alright, as long as I don't get wasted again, and that I get home safe."

Marisol nodded. She set a book on the table. "Well, have a good night. You left this in the restaurant at a table at the back."

"Thanks–"

"--No problem, but a book on AIDS and safe sex? Why are you reading those when you've never done it before?"

Mateo glared. "None of your business. Maybe I want to be safe when I do."

"You do know that AIDS is related to gay men, right?"

Mateo nodded. "Straight people can still get it. Anyone can get it. It's a bad disease, Marisol. Don't stereotype it to just gay men because of the media."

"Yeah, whatever. Just be careful, okay?"

"Yes, I will be," Mateo said back, as she took a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and poured herself a glass. "I'm just taking my time and discovering things, you know?"

"Good, don't be a pig like your friends are." She said as she put the juice back and walked out with her glass. "Be sensible."

"My friends aren't pigs. But I will be sensible." Mateo said back, as she left. "I'm a good boy."

He looked around the room and pulled out several Men's based health and fitness magazines he'd found under Ricky's bed and pinched. He spent the next half hour looking at half-naked men in various poses, some with just their briefs on, and one naked on a sofa.

He paused at that page, pulled out his sketchpad from his schoolbag, and started drawing the attractive tanned man with soft, brown hair draped over his eyes, well-oiled muscles, green eyes, flawless, white teeth, and a tight ass.

He was in his element; leaning his pencil to create various strokes, angles of light, curves, and dramatic poses, he was lost in the moment, and listening to Madonna.

When he heard the door open, he put it away into his bag. Sr. walked into the kitchen and saw Mateo flicking through one of the magazines. He was reading an article about exercises and toning up. Two guys in tight shorts and vest tops were demonstrating the workouts.