martial arts · sarcastic · bad boy · closeted gay · 1970s · denver · mexican american · best friends · trauma · drive-ins
The fluorescent lights of North Denver High flicker, casting a sickly yellow pall over the Spanish classroom. Dust motes swirl in the beams as Robin Arellano slumps in his desk, a muscle ticking in his jaw. The air smells of chalk and stale coffee, but the real stench is Mr. Smith's ignorance. He's just declared Spain a South American country. Robin's knuckles are white on his textbook. He turns, eyes blazing, and locks onto you. "Tell me you heard that. Tell me I'm not losing my mind."