Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World
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Four starred reviews!
“Messily human and sincerely insightful.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
The highly anticipated sequel to the critically acclaimed, multiple award-winning novel Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe is an “emotional roller coaster” (School Library Journal, starred review) sure to captivate fans of Adam Silvera and Mary H.K. Choi.
In Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, two boys in a border town fell in love. Now, they must discover what it means to stay in love and build a relationship in a world that seems to challenge their very existence.
Ari has spent all of high school burying who he really is, staying silent and invisible. He expected his senior year to be the same. But something in him cracked open when he fell in love with Dante, and he can’t go back. Suddenly he finds himself reaching out to new friends, standing up to bullies of all kinds, and making his voice heard. And, always, there is Dante, dreamy, witty Dante, who can get on Ari’s nerves and fill him with desire all at once.
The boys are determined to forge a path for themselves in a world that doesn’t understand them. But when Ari is faced with a shocking loss, he’ll have to fight like never before to create a life that is truthfully, joyfully his own.
Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Benjamin Alire Sáenz is the author of In Perfect Light, Carry Me Like Water, and House of Forgetting, as well as the author of several children’s books. He won the American Book Award for his collection of poems Calendar of Dust. Sáenz is the chair of the creative writing department at the University of Texas-El Paso.
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Reviews for Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World
168 ratings9 reviews
What our readers think
Readers find this title cute and relatable. They love the characters and the emotions the book evokes. Overall, they loved it."
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I still love these characters and I particularly like seeing Ari become more at ease with himself and was sorry to see him hurt but I found it really relatable. Dante made me angry at times but still love the guy.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Benjamin Alire Saenz is one of the most sensitive writers I've ever read. Such depth in his portraits of the human soul. I had stopped reading over twho-thirds through because I knew a "shocking loss" (as documented in the jacket blurb) was coming to Ari, and I didn't want to discover it! (Ingrid said that's why she sometimes wishes she didn't read blurbs.) But I should have trusted Mr. Saenz and the YA genre because (1) he is such a consummate writer and (2) YA is generally less harsh than adult writing. Not that Ari's loss was not devestating, but it was portrayed realistically and his support group was there for him. Even a woman who had been unkind to his Mom and the family came to offer condolences, and thus forgiveness blossomed, and Ari learned another lesson. And when Ari wallowed too long in his grief, friends and family gently booted him to LIVE, like his Dad would have wanted. So much grace, love, and integerity in this gorgeous novel.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I ended up loving this even more than the first. The first was about Aristotle and Dante creating a relationship; this expanded their sphere. It was about Ari learning to love in general — not just Dante. It was funnier, because Ari was able to laugh more. I loved some of the new characters, and I appreciated the honor Sáenz did to teachers. I remember 1989 and there were some moments that felt like the characters were commenting on 2020 in a way that wasn’t authentic to the late 80s. But in general, the late 80s have a lot to say to the 2020s and vice versa, so I appreciate the attempt even when I felt like it stumbled.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I enjoyed this more than I did the previous entry in the Aristotle and Dante series. I thought it was a stronger story with stronger characters and relationships. It was very beautiful. I like that the author seems to have become a lot more comfortable writing about Ari's queerness just as Ari himself is becoming more comfortable with his feelings. After reading the first book I knew to brace myself for emotional punches, but it still got me. The whole book was handled very well and was very moving.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5A million thank you's for the win of this book! I couldn't wait to get a copy, since I loved the first book so much, and it didn't disappoint!I was taken immediately back into Aristotle and Dante's world. It's the 80's, they are in love and gay. It wasn't accepted then. The torment, mostly from the inside, was heartbreaking at times. I rooted for them both every step of the way!I laughed at times, and I even cried twice. Books that can bring those emotions out in me, you know they are fantastic! The writing is devourable! That is exactly what I did. Flew through this chunker in record timing, and that is credited to the author.I so want more. I don't ever want to stop reading about Aristotle and Dante. I hope we get to see them write their names on the map of the city of love!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book gave me all the emotions. I loved it
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5so cute
if you want to read this book and you don't know read it - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I Love this Book!That said, it would have rated the same 5 Stars as the original Aristotle and Danteexcept...what is the point of including Bernardo at all? He adds no dimension to the plot.Also, "rip" his heart and hope make little sense and a lot of emotion repeats and repeats.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This sequel to the beloved Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe was sweet, thoughtful, way too long, and not nearly as original or revelatory as the first book. Maybe a story about two high school senior boys who are truly in love with each other just isn't as unusual or in any way shocking. Enjoyable but maybe I'm just too old for the lovey-doveyness that floods the entire novel. OK, I'm too old and I admit it.
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Book preview
Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World - Benjamin Alire Sáenz
One
AND HERE HE WAS, DANTE, with his head resting on my chest. In the stillness of the dawn, there was only the sound of Dante’s breathing. It was as though the universe had stopped whatever it was doing just to look down on two boys who had discovered its secrets.
As I felt the beating of Dante’s heart against the palm of my hand, I wished I could somehow reach into my chest and rip out my own heart and show Dante everything that it held.
And then there was this: Love didn’t just have something to do with my heart—it had something to do with my body. And my body had never felt so alive. And then I knew, I finally knew about this thing called desire.
Two
I HATED TO WAKE HIM. But this moment had to end. We couldn’t live in the back of my pickup forever. It was late, and already it was another day, and we had to get home, and our parents would be worried. I kissed the top of his head. Dante? Dante? Wake up.
I don’t ever want to wake up,
he whispered.
We have to go home.
I’m already home. I’m with you.
That made me smile. Such a Dante thing to say.
C’mon, let’s get going. It looks like rain. And your mother’s going to kill us.
Dante laughed. She won’t kill us. We’ll just get one of her looks.
I pulled him up and we both stood there, looking up at the sky.
He took my hand. Will you always love me?
Yes.
And did you love me from the very beginning, the way that I loved you?
Yes, I think so. I think I did. It’s harder for me, Dante. You have to understand that. It will always be harder for me.
Not everything is that complicated, Ari.
Not everything is as simple as you think it is.
He was about to say something, so I just kissed him. To shut him up, I think. But also because I liked kissing him.
He smiled. You finally figured out a way to win an argument with me.
Yup,
I said.
It’ll work for a while,
he said.
We don’t always have to agree,
I said.
That’s true.
I’m glad you’re not like me, Dante. If you were like me, I wouldn’t love you.
Did you say you love me?
He was laughing.
Cut it out.
Cut what out?
he said. And then he kissed me. You taste like the rain,
he said.
I love the rain more than anything.
I know. I want to be the rain.
"You are the rain, Dante." And I wanted to say You’re the rain and you’re the desert and you’re the eraser that’s making the word loneliness
disappear. But it was too much to say and I would always be the guy that would say too little and Dante was the kind of guy who would always say too much.
Three
WE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ON the drive back home.
Dante was quiet. Maybe too quiet. He, who was always so full of words, who knew what to say and how to say it without being afraid. And then the thought came to me that maybe Dante had always been afraid—just like me. It was as if we had both walked into a room together and we didn’t know what to do in that room. Or maybe, or maybe, or maybe. I just couldn’t stop thinking about things. I wondered if there would ever come a time when I would stop thinking about things.
And then I heard Dante’s voice: I wish I were a girl.
I just looked at Dante. What? Wanting to be a girl is serious business. You really wish you were a girl?
No. I mean, I like being a guy. I mean, I like having a penis.
I like having one too.
And then he said, But, at least, if I were a girl, then we could get married and, you know—
That’s not ever gonna happen.
I know, Ari.
Don’t be sad.
I won’t be.
But I knew he would be.
And then I put on the radio and Dante started singing with Eric Clapton and he whispered that My Father’s Eyes
was maybe his new favorite song. Waiting for my prince to come,
he whispered. And he smiled.
And he asked me, Why don’t you ever sing?
Singing means that you’re happy.
You’re not happy?
Maybe only when I’m with you.
I loved when I said something that made Dante smile.
When we pulled up in front of his house, the sun was on the verge of showing its face to the new day. And that’s just how it felt—like a new day. But I was thinking that maybe I would never again know—or be sure of—what the new day would bring. And I didn’t want Dante to know that there was any fear living inside me at all because he might think that I didn’t love him.
I would never show him that I was afraid. That’s what I told myself. But I knew I couldn’t keep that promise.
I want to kiss you,
he said.
I know.
He closed his eyes. Let’s pretend we’re kissing.
I smiled—then laughed as he closed his eyes.
You’re laughing at me.
No, I’m not. I’m kissing you.
He smiled and looked at me. His eyes were filled with such hope. He jumped out of the truck and shut the door. He stuck his head through the open window. I see a longing in you, Aristotle Mendoza.
A longing?
Yes. A yearning.
A yearning?
He laughed. Those words live in you. Look them up.
I watched him as he bounded up the steps. He moved with the grace of the swimmer that he was. There was no weight or worry in his step.
He turned around and waved, wearing that smile of his. I wondered if his smile would be enough.
God, let his smile be enough.
Four
I DIDN’T THINK I’D EVER felt this tired. I fell on my bed—but sleep didn’t feel like paying me a visit.
Legs jumped up beside me and licked my face. She nudged closer when she heard the storm outside. I wondered what Legs made up in her head about thunder or if dogs even thought about things like that. But me, I was happy for the thunder. This year, such wondrous storms, the most wondrous storms I’d ever known. I must have nodded off to sleep because, when I woke, it was pouring outside.
I decided to have a cup of coffee. My mom was sitting at the kitchen table, cup of coffee in one hand, a letter in the other.
Hi,
I whispered.
Hi,
she said, that same smile on her face. You got in late.
Or early—if you think about it.
For a mother, early is late.
"Were you worried?
It’s in my nature to worry.
So you’re like Mrs. Quintana.
It might surprise you to know that we have a lot of things in common.
Yeah,
I said, you both think your sons are the most beautiful boys in the world. You don’t get out much, do you, Mom?
She reached over and combed my hair with her fingers. And then she had that look that was waiting for an explanation.
Dante and I fell asleep in the back of my pickup. We didn’t…
I stopped, and then I just shrugged. We didn’t do anything.
She nodded. This is hard, isn’t it?
Yes,
I said. Is it supposed to be hard, Mom?
She nodded. Love is easy and it’s hard. It was that way with me and your father. I wanted him to touch me so much. And I was so afraid.
I nodded. But at least—
At least I was a girl and he was a boy.
Yeah.
She just looked at me in that same kind of way that she had always looked at me. And I wondered if I could ever look at anybody like that, a look that held all the good things that existed in the known universe.
Why, Mom? Why do I have to be this way? Maybe I’ll change and then like girls like I’m supposed to like them? I mean, maybe what me and Dante feel—it’s like a phase. I mean, I only feel this way about Dante. So what if I don’t really like boys—I only like Dante because he’s Dante.
She almost smiled. Don’t kid yourself, Ari. You can’t think your way out of this one.
How can you be so casual about this, Mom?
Casual? I’m anything but. I went through a lot of struggles with myself about your aunt Ophelia. But I loved her. I loved her more than I’d ever loved anyone outside of you and your sisters and your father.
She paused. And your brother.
My brother, too?
Just because I don’t talk about him doesn’t mean that I don’t think about him. My love for him is silent. There are a thousand things living in that silence.
I was going to have to give that some thought. I was beginning to see the world in a different way just by listening to her. To listen to her voice was to listen to her love.
I guess you could say that this isn’t my first time at bat.
She had that fierce and stubborn look on her face. You’re my son. And your father and I have decided that silence is not an option. Look at what the silence regarding your brother has done to us—not just to you, but to all of us. We’re not going to repeat that mistake.
Does that mean I have to talk about everything?
I could see the tears welling up in her eyes and hear the softness in her voice as she said, Not everything. But I don’t want you to feel that you’re living in exile. There’s a world out there that’s going to make you feel like that you don’t belong in this country—or any other country, for that matter. But in this house, Ari, there is only belonging. You belong to us. And we belong to you.
But isn’t it wrong to be gay? Everybody seems to think so.
"Not everybody. That’s a cheap and mean morality. Your aunt Ophelia took the words I don’t belong and wrote them on her heart. It took her a long time to take those words and throw them out of her body. She threw out those words one letter at a time. She wanted to know why. She wanted to change—but she couldn’t. She met a man. He loved her. Who wouldn’t love a woman like Ophelia? But she couldn’t do it, Ari. She wound up hurting him because she could never love him like she loved Franny. Her life was something of a secret. And that’s sad, Ari. Your aunt Ophelia was a beautiful person. She taught me so much about what really matters."
What am I gonna do, Mom?
Do you know what a cartographer is?
Of course I do. Dante taught me that word. It’s someone who creates maps. I mean, they don’t create what’s there, they just map it out and, well, show people what’s there.
That’s it, then,
she said. You and Dante are going to map out a new world.
And we’re going to get a lot of things wrong and we’re going to have to keep it all a secret, aren’t we?
I’m sorry that the world is what it is. But you’ll learn how to survive—and you’ll have to create a space where you’re safe and learn to trust the right people. And you will find happiness. Even now, Ari, I see that Dante makes you happy. And that makes me happy—because I hate to see you be miserable. And you and Dante have us and Soledad and Sam. You have four people on your baseball team.
Well, we need nine.
She laughed.
I wanted so much to lean into her and cry. Not because I was ashamed. But because I knew I was going to be a terrible cartographer.
And then I heard myself whisper, Mom, why didn’t anybody tell me that love hurts so much?
If I had told you, would it have changed anything?
Five
THERE WASN’T MUCH LEFT OF the summer. There seemed to be a few rainy days still to come before they went away and left us in our usual drought. While I was lifting weights in the basement, I wondered about picking up some kind of hobby. Maybe something to make me a better person or to just get me out of my head. I wasn’t good at anything, not really. Not like Dante, who was good at everything. I realized I didn’t have any hobbies. My hobby was thinking about Dante. My hobby was feeling my whole body tremble when I thought of him.
Maybe my real hobby would be having to keep my whole life a secret. Was that a hobby? Millions of boys in the world would want to kill me, would kill me if they knew what lived inside me. Knowing how to fight—that was no hobby. It was a gift I just might need to survive.
I took a shower and decided to make a list of things I wanted to do:
-Learn to play the guitar
I crossed out Learn to play the guitar because I knew I would never be good at it. I wasn’t cut out to be Andrés Segovia. Or Jimi Hendrix. So I just got on with my list.
- Apply for college
- Read more
- Listen to more music
- Go on a trip (maybe at least go camping—with Dante?)
- Write in a journal every day (try anyway)
- Write a poem (stupid)
- Make love to Dante
I crossed that out. But I couldn’t cross it out of my mind. You couldn’t cross out desire when it lived in your body.
Six
I GOT TO THINKING ABOUT Dante and how he must have been so afraid when those assholes jumped him and left him there on the ground, bleeding. What if he had died? They wouldn’t have given a damn. And I wasn’t there to protect him. I should have been there. I couldn’t forgive myself for not being there.
Seven
I FELL ASLEEP READING A book. Legs was lying next to me when my mother woke me. Dante’s on the phone.
What’s that smile?
I said.
What smile?
Mom, just knock it off.
She shook her head and raised her shoulders in that What? kind of body talk.
I walked into the living room and grabbed the receiver. Hi.
What are you doing?
I fell asleep reading a book.
What book?
"The Sun Also Rises."
I never actually finished that.
What?!
You’re making fun of me.
Yes. But it’s that kind of making fun that you only get to do if you like someone.
Oh, so you like me.
You’re fishing.
Yup.
I could picture him smiling. "So, aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing?"
I was getting to that.
Well, I was just hanging out with my dad. He’s such a dork. He was telling me about all the famous homosexuals in history.
What?
Yup, we were both cracking up.
He’s trying to be all cool about this gay thing. It’s, like, totally sweet.
That would be the word,
I said.
He said I should read Oscar Wilde.
Who’s he?
He was this English guy. Or Irish. I don’t know. Famous writer in the Victorian age. Dad said he was ahead of his time.
And your dad reads him?
Sure. He’s a literature guy.
It doesn’t bother him—this—you know—this—
"I don’t think the idea of someone being gay bothers my father. I think he might be a little sad—because he knows it’s not gonna be so easy for me. And he’s curious about everything, and he’s not afraid of ideas. Ideas won’t kill you. He likes to say that a lot."
I wondered about my own dad. Wondered what he thought. Wondered if he was sad for me, wondered if he was confused.
I like your dad,
I said.
He likes you too.
He was quiet for a moment. So, you wanna hang out? Any minute now, school’s gonna start again.
Ah, the cycle of life.
You hate school, don’t you?
I kinda do.
Don’t you learn anything?
"I didn’t say I don’t learn anything. It’s just that, you know, I’m ready to move on. I’m over hallways and lockers and assholes and, you know, I guess I just never fit in. And now, well, I’m really not gonna to fit in. Shit!"
Dante didn’t say anything on the other end of the telephone. And then finally he said, Do you hate all this, Ari?
I could hear that hurt thing in his voice.
Look, I’ll be right over. We’ll hang out.
Dante was sitting on the front steps of his house. Barefoot.
Hi.
He waved. Are you mad?
Why? Because you’re not wearing shoes? I don’t care.
No one cares about that except my mother—she likes to tell me what to do.
That’s what mothers do. And why? Because she loves you.
"Correcto. Isn’t that how you would say it in Spanish?"
Well, that’s how a gringo would say it.
He rolled his eyes. And how would a real Mexican say it? Not that you’re a real Mexican.
We’ve had this discussion before, haven’t we?
We’ll always come back to this topic because we live in this topic, a fucking no-man’s-land of American identity.
"Well, we are Americans. I mean, you don’t look like a Mexican at all."
And you do. But that doesn’t make you more Mexican either. We both have giveaway last names, names that mean some people will never consider us real Americans.
Well, who wants to be?
I’m with you on that, babe.
He sort of smiled.
Are you trying that out, the ‘babe’ thing?
I’ve been trying to work it into the conversation so, you know, so you wouldn’t notice.
I noticed.
I didn’t exactly roll my eyes. I just gave him that look that said I was rolling my eyes.
What do you think?
I mean, I’m a babe,
I said, but ‘babe’?
Just cuz you’re a babe doesn’t mean you have to get cocky.
He had this tone when he was amused but also annoyed. So, ‘babe’ doesn’t work for you. What am I supposed to call you?
"How about Ari?"
How about ‘darling’?
I knew he was just kidding.
Oh, fuck no.
"How about ‘mi amor’?"
Better, but that’s what my mom says to my dad.
Yeah, same with my mom.
Do we really want to sound like our mothers?
Oh, hell no,
Dante said. I loved that he brought so much laughter into what was once the pathetic-melancholy-boy thing I used to do all the time. And I wanted to kiss him.
You know, Ari, we’re screwed.
Yup, we’re screwed.
We’ll never be Mexican enough. We’ll never be American enough. And we’ll never be straight enough.
Yup,
I said, and you can bet your ass that, somewhere down the road, we won’t be gay enough.
We’re screwed.
Yeah, we are,
I said. Gay men are dying of a disease that doesn’t have a cure. And I think that makes most people afraid of us—afraid that somehow we’ll pass the disease on to them. And they’re finding out that there are so damned many of us. They see millions of us marching on the streets in New York and San Francisco and London and Paris and every other city in the whole world. And there’s a whole lot of people that wouldn’t mind if we all just died. This is serious shit, Dante. And you and I, we’re screwed. I mean. We. Are. Really. Screwed.
Dante nodded. We really are, aren’t we?
We were both sitting there getting sad. Too sad.
But Dante took us both out of our sadness when he said, So, if we’re screwed, do you think that sometime, we could, like, screw?
There’s a thought. It’s not like we can get pregnant.
I played that line very casually. All I could think about was making love to him. But I wasn’t going to tell him that I was going fucking crazy. We were boys. And all boys were like this, whether they were gay or whether they were straight—or if they were whatever.
"But if one of us did get pregnant, then they’d not only let us get married—they’d make us get married."
That is the smartest dumb thing you’ve ever said.
And, man, did I want to kiss that guy. I mean, I wanted to kiss him.
Eight
LET’S GO WATCH A MOVIE.
Sure,
I said. What?
"There’s this movie, Stand by Me. I wanna see it. They say it’s good."
What’s it about?
A bunch of kids who go looking for a dead body.
Sounds like fun,
I said.
You’re being sarcastic.
Yup.
It’s good.
You haven’t even seen it.
But I promise you, you’ll like it.
And if I don’t?
I’ll give you your money back.
It was the middle of the week and it was late afternoon and there weren’t many people in the theater. We sat near the very top row and there wasn’t anybody sitting close to us. There was a young couple, looked like college students, and they were kissing. I wondered what that was like, to be able to kiss someone you liked any time you wanted. In front of everybody. I would never know what that would be like. Not ever.
But it was really nice to be sitting in a dark movie theater next to Dante. I smiled when we sat down because the first thing he did was take off his tennis shoes. We shared a large popcorn. Sometimes we both reached for the popcorn and our hands would touch.
As I watched the movie, I could feel his glances. I wondered what he saw, who he was making up when he looked at me. I want to kiss you,
he whispered.
Watch the movie,
I said.
He saw me smile.
And then he kissed me.
In a dark theater, where no one could see us, a boy kissed me. A boy who tasted like popcorn. And I kissed him back.
Nine
AS I WAS DRIVING BACK to Dante’s house, he placed his feet on the dashboard of my truck.
I shook my head. Guess what?
"What’s so funny?
You forgot your tennis shoes at the movie theater.
Shit.
Should I turn around?
Who cares?
Your mom might.
She’ll never know.
You wanna bet?
Ten
DANTE’S PARENTS WERE SITTING ON the front porch when we got back from the movies. Dante and I walked up the stairs.
Where are your shoes, Dante?
You’re not supposed to be sitting on the front porch waiting for me to get home. It’s called entrapment.
Mr. Quintana was shaking his head. Maybe you should give up the art thing and become an attorney. And if you’re hoping I forgot that you didn’t answer my question, think again.
"Why do you like to say think again?"
Mrs. Quintana just gave him that look.
I took them off at the movie theater. I forgot them.
Mr. Quintana didn’t laugh, but I could tell he wanted to. We’re not making any progress here, are we, Dante?
Dad, who gets to define ‘progress’?
I do. I’m the dad.
You know, Dad, when you get all adult on me, it doesn’t really work for me.
Mrs. Quintana wasn’t going to laugh.
And then Dante had to keep going. He couldn’t help himself. Look at it this way. Some guy will find them and like them and take them home. And he’ll have a new pair of tennis shoes. And maybe his parents can’t afford to buy him a new pair of tennis shoes. So it all works out.
I did want to kiss that guy. Dante didn’t know he was funny. He didn’t say things to make people laugh. He was too damned sincere for that.
Dante’s father just shook his head. Dante, do you really believe all the things you say?
I think so. Yes.
I was afraid of that.
Mr. Quintana and Dante kept playing their game of verbal chess, and I just stood there and watched them. I couldn’t help but notice that Mrs. Quintana was beginning to look very pregnant. Well, maybe not very. But, you know, pregnant. What a strange word. Maybe there should be a more beautiful word for a woman who was going to have a baby. When they settled down, Mrs. Quintana looked at me and asked, How was the movie?
It was really good. I think you’d like it.
Mr. Quintana squeezed Mrs. Quintana’s hand. Soledad doesn’t like to go to movies. She’d rather work.
She gave her husband one of her smirks. That’s not true,
she said. It’s just that I’d rather read a book.
Yeah. Preferably a book on the latest theories of human psychological development—or the latest theories of how behavioral changes really happen.
She laughed. Do you find me criticizing your tastes in postmodern poetry?
I liked how they got along. They had a nice easy way of playing with each other that was really sweet. There was so much affection in Dante’s household. Maybe Mrs. Quintana was harder than Mr. Quintana. But she was nice. She was tough and she was nice.
Dante looked at his mother. Have you thought of a name yet?
Not yet, Dante.
The way she said it was as if she was both annoyed and amused by Dante’s new hobby. We still have four months to decide.
It’s gonna be a boy, you know.
I don’t care. A boy. A girl.
She looked at Mr. Quintana. No offense, but I hope the baby turns out to be more like the mother.
Mr. Quintana looked at her. Really?
"Don’t give me that Really? thing, Sam. I’m outnumbered. Dante takes after you. I live with two boys. We need another adult in this family."
That made me smile. That really made me smile.
You wanna hear the list I have?
List?
You know, the names I’ve picked out for my baby brother.
He was lying on his bed, and I was sitting on his chair. He was studying me. You’re laughing at me.
No, I’m not. Do you hear me laughing?
You’re laughing on the inside. I can tell.
Yeah, I’m laughing on the inside. You’re relentless.
I taught you that word.
Yeah, you did.
And now you’re using it against me.
Looks that way.
I shot him a look. Don’t your parents get a say in this?
Not if I can help it.
He walked up to his desk and took out a yellow legal pad. He threw himself back on the bed. These are the names I have so far: Rafael—
Nice.
Michelangelo.
That’s nuts!
This from a boy named Aristotle.
Shut up.
I don’t do ‘shut up.’
Like I hadn’t noticed.
Ari, are you gonna hear me out? Or are you gonna editorialize?
I thought this was a conversation. You always tell me I don’t know how to talk. So I’m talking. But I’ll shut up. Unlike you, I know how to do that.
Yeah, yeah,
he said.
Yeah, yeah,
I said.
Look, just listen to the list, and then you can throw in your irony and sarcasm after I’m done.
I don’t do irony.
Like hell you don’t.
God, I wanted to kiss him. And kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. I was going fucking nuts. Did people lose their minds when they loved someone? Who was I? I didn’t know myself anymore. Shit.
Okay,
I said. I’ll shut up. Read the list.
Octavio. Javier. Juan Carlos. Oliver. Felipe or Philip. Constantine. Cesar. Nicholas. Benjamin. Not Ben, but Benjamin. Adam. Santiago. Joaquin. Francis. Noel. Edgar. That’s what I have so far. I’ve eliminated all the ordinary names.
Ordinary names?
John, Joe, Michael, Edward, etc. What do you think?
You do know a lot of those names sound very Mexican.
What’s your point?
I’m just saying.
"Look, Ari, I want him to be Mexican. I want him to be all the things that I’m not. I want him to know Spanish. I want him to be good at math."
And you want him to be straight.
Yes,
he whispered. I couldn’t stand to see the tears running down his face. Yes, Ari, I want him to be straight.
He sat up on his bed, covered his face with his hands—and cried. Dante and tears.
I sat next to him and pulled him close to me. I didn’t say anything.
I just let him sob into my shoulder.
Eleven
ALL NIGHT I DREAMED OF Dante. Of him and me.
I dreamed his lips. I dreamed his touch. I dreamed his body.
What is this thing called desire?
Twelve
I WAS DOING MY HOMEWORK at the kitchen table when my dad came in, looking tired and sweaty. He shot me a smile—and just then he looked young again.
How was work?
Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night—
I interrupted him and finished his sentence: —stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.
My father looked at me. So you’ve memorized our motto?
Of course I have. I memorized it when I was seven.
It seemed like he was on the edge of tears. I was almost certain that my father had felt like crying many times in his life—it’s just that he kept his tears to himself. I was a lot like him. Sometimes we couldn’t see what was right in front of us. Things had changed between us. I thought I hated him—but that had never been true. And I thought he didn’t give a damn about me. But I knew now that he’d thought about me, worried about me, loved me in ways that I would never fully understand.
Maybe he’d never kiss my cheek, like Dante’s father did. But that didn’t mean he didn’t love me.
I’m gonna take my shower.
I smiled at him and nodded. His ritual shower. He did that every day when he came back from work. And then he poured himself a glass of wine and went outside and smoked a couple of cigarettes.
When he came back into the kitchen, I had already poured him a glass of wine. Is it okay if I sit with you in the backyard? Or is that kind of your private time?
He walked toward the refrigerator and grabbed a can of Dr Pepper. He handed it to me. Come and have a drink with your father.
My father. My father, my father, my father.
Thirteen
Legs and I went for a run in the morning. And then I bathed her—and then I took a shower. I got to wondering about bodies and, well, I don’t know, I got myself all worked up. See, this love thing, it’s not just a heart thing, it’s a body thing too. And I wasn’t all that comfortable with the heart thing and I wasn’t all that comfortable with the body thing either. So I was screwed.
I thought about Dante all the damned time. And it was making me crazy and I wondered if he thought about me all the damned time too. Not that I was going to ask him. I. WAS. NOT. GOING. TO. ASK. HIM.
Wanna go swimming?
Sure.
How’d you sleep, Ari?
That’s a funny question.
That’s not an answer.
I slept fine, Dante.
I didn’t.
I didn’t want to have this conversation. Well, you’ll sleep better tomorrow. I’ll send Legs over. You can sleep with her. I always sleep better when she’s next to me.
Sounds good,
he said. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice. And I thought maybe he would rather have me sleeping next to him than Legs. I mean, did guys go over and sleep with their girlfriends right under their parents’ noses? Nope. They didn’t. Sleeping next to Dante in his parents’ house? Not going to happen. In my house? No. Hell no. Shit!
People say that love is like a kind of heaven. I was beginning to think that love is a kind of hell.
My mom was drinking a cup of coffee and looking over some notes.
Writing a new syllabus?
"I don’t like teaching the same class in the same way over and