Getting It by Alex Sanchez

pic.” Toro posed Playboy with his shirt lifted up, and his jeans and boxers pulled down to the edge of his pubes.
    â€œYou sure this doesn’t look gay?” Playboy protested. “I don’t want fags e-mailing me.”
    Carlos peered through the camera screen and recalled Sal scolding him. He now told Playboy, “You shouldn’t use the word ‘fag.’”
    â€œOh, that’s right,” Playboy said sarcastically. “I forgot you’re now bi.”
    â€œYou’re bi?” Toro asked. “For real?”
    â€œShut up,” Carlos told Playboy “I’m not bi.”
    â€œWhatever.” Playboy rolled his eyes,” Just take the picture,
pendejo.”
    Carlos took a couple of shots and everyone crowded around to look at them.
    â€œYou don’t think I look too skinny?” Playboy asked.
    â€œMaybe that’ll discourage any more hippos,” Pulga suggested.
    That idea seemed to satisfy Playboy. After uploading his new photo onto the site, the boys searched through the girl profiles and Playboy e-mailed three chicks he thought were hot.
    Carlos felt great spending time with his buds, in spite of the jabs about his turning gay. They’d always teased each other like that anyway. Except now there was a difference: He actually had a gay friend.

Fifteen
    C ARLOS WAITED TILL Friday, his ma’s payday, to tell her, “I need some money for clothes.”
    She’d just come home from food shopping and he’d quickly offered to put the groceries away.
    â€œI just bought you those sneakers,” she replied. “What more clothes do you need?”
    Carlos resented having to justify what he wanted money for. It made him feel like one of those needy kids on a “Save the Children” ad. But he recalled how his ma liked Sal, so he told her, “Sals helping me with my image.”
    â€œYour …
image?”
His ma smiled at Carlos, her eyes sparkling with interest. “This boy is having quite an influence on you. First your room, now your clothes …”
    â€œYeah,” Carlos agreed. Although he’d originally planned to ask his ma for a hundred dollars, her obvious approval of Sal now emboldened him. “I probably need about two hundred bucks.”
    His ma’s eyes suddenly lost their sparkle. “Oh, really? Well, let me just turn the faucet on and see how much money comes out.”
    That was one of her most annoying expressions.
    â€œI can give you fifty,” she countered.
    â€œFifty?”
Carlos stopped putting away groceries. “You can hardly buy a pair of underwear for fifty.” Besides, Carlos still had to pay Sal his hourly rate and the eighteen dollars he owed him.
    â€œSorry.” His ma resumed putting away groceries.
    Carlos reverted to his original target. “Okay, how about a hundred?”
    But his ma wouldn’t budge. “Fifty.”
    â€œMa, stop being so stingy,” Carlos insisted. “How about eighty?”
    â€œI’m not being stingy. I told you what we can afford: fifty.”
    â€œSeventy?” Carlos pleaded, helping store a box of macaroni on the top shelf.
    â€œNo.” His ma’s tone grew irritated. “I told you fifty.”
    Carlos wrapped his arms around her. “Sixty, Ma. Come on,
please?”
    He felt her body relax beneath his embrace. “Okay. Sixty.”
    Carlos let his arms drop and finished putting away the groceries. Although he’d gotten less money than he’d wanted, at least it was more than his drive-by pa had given him.

Sixteen
    S ATURDAY MORNING, Sal arrived at eight, but this time Carlos had remembered to set his alarm. In the kitchen over coffee, Sal flirted with Carlos’s ma, telling her, “That blouse looks really good on you. It totally highlights your eyes.”
    â€œGracias.”
Mrs. Amoroso beamed. “It’s one of my own creations.”
    â€œNo way!” Sal