“Did she tell the group or did you?” Naija asks.

“She said she’d take care of it. All I know is that Milton is the leader of the youth division now,” I reply.

Naija groans. “That’s why that fool has been walking around with a superior look on his face. Can’t stand him.”

Shawn shrugs. “He’s kind of . . . cute.” We all look at him in shock. “What? I like the preppy know-it-all type,” Shawn admits.

“Wait, are you saying you like Milton?” I ask.

Shawn bites his lower lip and gives us a mischievous smile.

“I know that look. Talk!” I say.

The others follow. We demand that he gives us all the tea. “Okay, well, I was coming back from practice and I saw him coming out the laundromat. We started to talk, and . . . he asked me out.”

The table explodes with cheers. Shawn and Dell dap while Naija and I move our hips and arms around, shouting, “Ay!” When the noise dies down, Shawn hits us with a caveat:

“I told Milton I couldn’t go out with him until I talked to my pops.”

“Are you sure?” Dell says.

“Ever since my mom died, it’s been me and Pops. We have always been real with each other. I’ve been putting off telling him, but now I wanna be honest and let him know what’s up.”

We all nod with understanding. Shawn and his dad are close. They go to basketball games, movies, and concerts together. Being gay is the only secret he’s ever kept from his dad, and we all know how hard it’s been for him to do so. But while we understood the hesitation, we get why he kept it secret: Black guys coming out as gay doesn’t happen every day around here. And while Shawn’s dad isn’t super religious, he damn sure ain’t “live and let live,” so I really hope it goes well.

“Are you scared?” Naija asks.

“Yeah. I am,” he admits.

“Telling your parents stuff is . . . Sometimes if you don’t find the right words, that’s a wrap. You messed everything up,” Naija says, mostly to herself.

The guys and I exchange a look. This was the point of the whole night. I tried the day before to get Naija to tell me what’s going on. But she didn’t. I could tell she wanted to talk but wasn’t sure how to start. So I talked to the guys, and we agreed we needed to get her to relax, and then maybe she’d open up. The party came at the perfect time.

“I get it, Shawn,” I say. “I didn’t think I’d ever have the nerve to be honest with my mom. I thought for sure she’d regret having me in her life. Like she’d walk around the house secretly hating me.”