Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World (Aristotle and Dante, #2)

by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

Vera looked at me. She had this look that was kind but firm. “Just try not to take responsibility for things you’re not responsible for.” “You mean like me being gay?” “Exactly.”

I’m not like you, Dante. You have always understood that your parents loved you. And you loved them back. You never thought it was cool to look down on your parents. You’ve never cared what other people thought because you’ve always known who you were. You’re kind and you’re sensitive (and yeah, a little bit moody, and you get hurt maybe a little bit too easily). But you feel. You feel and you’re brave. I used to think maybe you needed me around to protect you. But you don’t need protecting. Because you have a special kind of courage that most people don’t have and will never have. I’ll never have the kind of goodness you have living inside you. But you’ve taught me a lot of things. All those things I thought about my parents, well, they were mostly lies, and I believed my own lies. My dad noticed, even before I did, that I loved you. And not only that, he didn’t judge me for it. And I’m beginning to realize that he really loves me. And yeah, he loves me because I’m his son, but he also didn’t judge me for loving another boy. And that’s because he’s a good person. God, Dante, I never saw them as people. Not really. You know, I’ve been a piece of shit for a long time. I don’t want to be a piece of shit anymore.

we not only have to be smart enough to be cartographers—we also have to be brave enough to dive into waters that may not be very friendly.”

I don’t know how long we sat out there on his steps. Sometimes, when I was with Dante, time didn’t exist—and I liked that.

my father was proud of what he did, saying, ‘You don’t get extra credit for doing what you’re supposed to do.’

And then I realized that all of the people gathered in that church were standing, applauding. All of those people—their applause, I knew it wasn’t for me. It was for the man they had come to honor. And I was proud.

I had always wanted to meet love, understand it, let it live inside me. I ran into it one summer day when I heard Dante’s voice. Now I wished I’d never run into it. No one had ever told me love didn’t come to stay. Now that it had left me, I was a shell, a hollow body with nothing in it but the echoes of Dante’s voice, distant and unreachable. And my own voice was gone.

“If we ignore something, then we’ll pay the price. Governments love to ignore things that are not convenient. No one gains anything by pretending it isn’t there. We all suffer for it.