The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina

by Zoraida Córdova

Rey would never marry Timothy, but they kissed in the halls of their high school at sixteen, and then one last time in Timothy’s room. Before Tim’s dad came home and had a fit. He asked, “What would your father say if he were alive?” And Reymundo only smiled, because he knew in his heart what the answer would be. “He’d say that you’re a homophobic fucking asshole, Mr. Green.”

“Señorita Montoya,” he said. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the opera tomorrow night?” She said no. And he wanted her more.

The sheen of water on an oil slick.