Page 20 of Headstrong Like Us

Bang!

I sit up off the window. It sounded like hands or knees just smacked into the glass.

Oscar and Donnelly eagle-eye the window too, and I pry down a blind with my fingertip. Peering out, teenagers pound their fists on the tinted glass. They can’t really see inside, even if we can see out.

“FARROW!” they wail. “FARRROOWWW!”

I release the blind, and we return to breakfast for dinner. But the air is tense as we eat.

“It’s going to get worse, Redford,” Oscar says, eyeing the door and then me. He cuts his eggs benedict with a fork and knife. “We Are Callowayhasn’t even aired yet.”

The first episode broadcasts on the premium cable channel tonight. We’re planning to watch the docuseries here, and I hope Maximoff can make it to Superheroes & Scones before it begins.

I’ve seen most of the footage I’m in. Cleared the clips with production. But fuck, it’ll be strange to be on TV alongside the Hales, Meadows, and Cobalts.

I dig into the scrambled eggs. “I don’t mind the screaming fans.” They’ve always been a part of Maximoff’s world, and if I couldn’t handle that shit, we wouldn’t be as good as we are together.

Oscar and Donnelly share a look.

I wash my eggs down with a swig of water. “What?” I frown.

Oscar reaches for the salt and peppershaker. “Donnelly told me you were offered to be on the cover ofOut LoudMagazine, and you rejected it.”

I glance at Donnelly. “Man, that wasn’t that important to share.”

He swigs orange juice. “I’m a straight boy—”

“We’re well aware.”

“So I just thought Oscar might think it’d be important.”

Oscar jumps in. “It is important, Farrow.”

I groan and lean back against the window, abandoning my eggs. “This is why I didn’t tell you. You’re making this into a bigger deal than it is.”

“Did you even think about it for more than half-a-second?” Oscar wonders. “Or did you just go with your gut—which obviously saidno.”

I wipe my hands on a napkin, heat gathering in my chest.

I love Maximoff, and even after being doxxed and my privacy obliterated, I’m okay with the media attention. There are very few things in my life that have scared the shit out of me—and I’m barreling into one of them.

I tell them, “I don’t want to be a gay icon. And being on the cover ofOut Loudor any other gay magazine is one giant fucking step in that direction. I can’t be a spokesperson for the community.”

Being gay has always been a major part of my identity, but it’s not the first, second, or sixth thing I’d lead with when describing myself. It’s a part of me. Not all of me. And these magazines and the public, they’ll hang onto thatonepiece until it’s all they know. All they see. I don’t want it to happen. I’m more than my sexuality.

“No one’s asking you to speak for an entire community,” Oscar tells me. “You just continue being you, and that would do a lotfor a lot of guys.”

“Okay, but I can do that without being on a cover of a magazine.”

Oscar nods. “Sure.” He seasons his eggs, and I know thatsureis the worst kind ofsures.It’s likeyou’re right, Farrowbut you’re also so fuckingwrong.

I roll my eyes halfway around the store.

Mid-chew, Donnelly says, “You’re already my gay icon.” He throws up a hand gesture that meanslove you.

I toss my balled napkin at his face.

Donnelly smirks and chucks a handful of blueberries at me and Oscar. I dodge them, and we have a mini food fight.