Volume 02, Story 7
Chino and Sarah Yazzie are tangled together on the couch when Chino freezes, staring at the front door. Nothing is there. “What’s wrong?” “Huh? Nothing. I was just… never mind.” Across town, Mary Jane and Homeboy stumble into her apartment mid-makeout, collapse in a heap, and toast: “To painting the town red.” Two tequila shots go down without a grimace. Then Mary Jane feels something different under her hands. She looks down, and Homeboy is Homegirl. “Holy shit!” “Oh no… not again.” The tears come, and Mary Jane holds her: “I like girls too. Don’t worry about it.”
The next knock on Chino’s door is Mary Jane, Homegirl behind her: “We have a problem.” Sarah squints. “Is this one of those weird things I missed while I was in that cocoon?” The culprit is Uncle Rob’s Cursed Joint of Bayankala, per Chino, and nobody has a plan, so Homegirl raises a hand with the only actionable suggestion in the room: “Can we go get some King Taco? I am fucking hungry.” King Taco it is.
At King Taco, Homegirl inhales her fourth taco while Chris, Mary Jane’s perpetually chill friend, walks in with Destiny, Chino’s ex. Destiny spots Homegirl and hisses to Chris: “that’s the skank I told you about. Jumped my girls.” Chris’s memory stitches together wrong: “Homeboy’s cousin? Her? She beat ya asses?” At the table, Sarah learns Homegirl kicked Destiny’s ass four-against-one. Chris drifts over, greets Homegirl as “Juanita,” and nobody corrects him. He apologizes for his cousin, asks about the Marine days (“Let’s just say I was a badass… can we not talk about it? It fucks me up”), and asks Homegirl to dinner. She accepts. “And I think I got another lady boner.” Destiny storms out, appetite gone; Chris orders her food anyway and stays for his burrito. Sarah leans toward Chino, eyes wide: “Now I’ve seen everything.” Chino shakes his head. “Nah… you still haven’t been in space yet.” “You’ve been to space?!” “Yeah… twice.”
The dress montage is a full production: Mary Jane on makeup, Sarah cycling through dresses until the sleeping Chino mumbles, “Go with the blue one.” The purse kit is thorough: money, pepper spray, condoms, tampons, Midol. “Wait… what do I need tampons for?” Chris arrives freshly showered. Homegirl twirls in the blue cocktail swing dress, and Mary Jane’s send-off is “Just be yourself.” Sarah’s is “Do everything I would do… twice.”
The date starts well. Homegirl overshares at volume (“I talk a lot when I’m nervous”), Chris steadies her (“Just be you”), and the Destiny revelation lands: “She’s your cousin?! I don’t have to, like, force-like her, do I?” Back at Mary Jane’s, the science team cracks the case: the change happened after two tequila shots. “So the tequila made him change into Homegirl.” “So as long as Homegirl doesn’t drink any tequila, she’ll be fine.” “What Mexican doesn’t drink tequila?” At the restaurant, Homegirl orders water, Chris orders a tequila shot, and Homegirl immediately upgrades: “Oh! That sounds good! I’ll have one too… bring the bottle.” Mary Jane’s text arrives mid-toast: “Whatever you do, don’t drink Tequila!!!” Homegirl: “Why?” The typing dots drag. “Because you’ll turn back into Homeboy.” “Fuck me.” Chris grins. “Right here?”
Homegirl excuses herself, carries the bottle and her shot glass to the men’s room, and walks past a man mid-stream: “What’s up, homie?” From the stall comes a muffled scream, then a deeper voice: “Don’t worry homie, I’m cool.” Inside the stall, Homeboy texts Mary Jane: “I’m Homeboy again. What do I do?” “Change back into Homegirl.” The dosing consultation runs by text: “try one and if that doesn’t work try another one.” Two shots later, Homegirl wobbles back to the table, victorious and drunk: “I’m getting a huge lady boner right now.” The car ride escalates: panties land in Chris’s lap, the seatbelt comes off. At Chris’s place, Homegirl rides in koala-style, tequila bottle in hand. Chris steps into the bathroom; when he returns, Homeboy is passed out cold on the bed. Chris photographs the stranger and texts Mary Jane: “I have a problem.” Mary Jane’s counsel from the couch: “The truth.”
Homeboy wakes swinging, chugs tequila on the run, mascara streaking down his cheeks, until Chris holds out a hand: “Relax… we’re cool.” They sit on the bed. “I wish I could be Homegirl for you all the time.” “Thank you. I wish you could too.” “It’s just that I really like chicks, you know.” “Yeah… me too.” Somewhere mid-conversation, Homeboy shifts back, and Homegirl smiles up at him: “If you want, I can still fuck your brains out until your toes curl.” Chris laughs: “I would like that, but not tonight. It’s just been a little more weird than I can handle.” She snores softly. He tucks the blanket over her and steps out.
Morning: Chris delivers a hungover Homegirl to Mary Jane’s. “I am never drinking tequila again.” Payment is accepted in barbecues and party invites. Chino lights a joint and passes it over. “Crazy night.” Homegirl inhales deep. “We’ve had crazier. And I’m sure shit’s going to get even more crazy.”
Featuring Chino, Homegirl, Sarah Yazzie, Mary Jane, Chris, Destiny.
Read the full story in The Adventures of Chino & Homeboy, Volume 02