Page 74 of Saving Sparrow (Slow Burns & Tragic Beginnings #2)

Then

Kayden and I only shared the one class, and due to some unspecified acoustic issues in the lecture hall, Intro to English was canceled the following week.

I scanned the halls for him whenever Miguel and I transitioned between classes, even watching the entrance to the dining commons whenever we ate there with Quentin during a break in our schedules.

He was nowhere to be found, and I wondered if he’d dropped out.

But at the end of the second week, I spotted him handing out sheets of paper near the Celia Grant building. Flyers, maybe.

Passing students scrutinized his look. Just like in the lecture hall, he didn’t seem to care, moving on to the next person like he didn’t notice all the eyes on him.

“Dammit,” Miguel bit out, pulling my attention away from Kayden. He patted himself down, then dug around in his backpack.

“What’s wrong?”

“Think I left my badge in Rutford’s class,” he said distractedly, searching for his school ID. He stopped, staring off with a pensive look. “No, I definitely think I left it in Writing Foundations.”

“That was two classes ago,” I said. “It’s probably in the lost and found by now.

” A girl walked past us, her attention on the sheet of paper she’d gotten from Kayden.

She breezed by too fast for me to clearly make out what was on it, but it was definitely a flyer for some sort of event.

There was a date and time stamped across the top in big, bold letters.

“You think they put badges in lost and found?” Miguel sounded skeptical.

“I don’t know. Maybe they emailed you about it?”

“Yes,” he hissed, sounding relieved by the idea. He pulled his phone from the side pocket of his backpack, and I watched as Kayden shoved those flyers at anyone within arm’s reach.

“Thank goodness.” Miguel exhaled. “Someone dropped it off at the English department. They close in twenty minutes. I should hurry over and pick it up now.” He gazed toward the campus exit.

We’d been on our way home to eat before our biology class.

The English department was on the opposite side of campus and would cut into our time if he went now.

“You won’t be able to get back on campus without your badge,” I reminded him. “Go. I’ll wait here.”

Miguel’s lips thinned. “You’re right. I’ll be quick. Let Quentin know we’ll be there soon,” he called over his shoulder. Quentin’s last class for the day let out over an hour ago. He went home to take a nap and wait for us.

I wasn’t even sure I had my phone with me. I’d never really gotten used to having one, and since I was always with one or both of the only two people with my number, it was never important that I keep up with the device.

I found it at the bottom of my bag, but the battery was dead. I looked up to shout for Miguel to text him, but he was already too far away. With nothing left to do, I slipped my backpack over my shoulders and headed for Kayden.

“Drag night at Queer Life,” he repeated as he handed out his flyers. “Be there and be fabulous.” He spoke and moved with flair, but the gaping mouths were because of the floral princess gown he wore and the curly blonde wig.

“Hey,” he said when he caught me watching from a few feet away, “I know you.”

I looked over my shoulder, thinking he couldn’t be talking to me. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah, you’re in my English class. Kind of hard to miss all that hair.”

I automatically smoothed a hand down the red strands, fidgeting under his stare. He grinned at my awkwardness. Unless I had to, I didn’t really talk to anyone besides Quentin and Miguel.

I glanced around at the small groups of people watching Kayden. “They’re all staring at you.”

“As they should, honey.” He hadn’t even checked to confirm. “It’s good advertising.”

“What is?”

He walked over—or maybe sashayed was a better word for it—and handed me a flyer. “I do tend to have a soft spot for the dramatics, but I don’t normally walk around dressed like this.”

“Drag night at Queer Life,” I read aloud, a photo of three men dressed similarly to Kayden at the bottom. They posed in front of a restaurant, and although the photo confused me, their joyful smiles made my heart race. Kayden was clearly promoting an event; I just wasn’t clear on what it was.

I looked up to ask him about it, but the silver glitter over his eyelids distracted me. It was easy to make out now that we stood so close. His lashes were extra long and thick, too, coated with something inky that made his hazel eyes stand out.

Along his jawline, in the hollow of his cheekbones, and even the very tip of his nose shimmered bronze under the sun. His lips were glossy pink, and his cheeks were a soft, rosy red even though he wasn’t blushing. Kayden didn’t seem like the type who blushed.

“Queer Life is a restaurant slash lounge not too far from here,” he said, pointing to the flyer when I stared at him in confusion. “My uncle Dolores owns it.”

I couldn’t stop looking at his makeup and thinking about how courageous he was for being out here like this.

I’d felt jealousy before—like when Quentin and Miguel got to be lovers while I only got to be their friend.

The feeling swirling around my stomach now felt the same but different too.

I didn’t want to be with Kayden. I wanted to be like him. I wanted to be brave.

“Your, um, uncle Dolores,” I said, pulling it together. “Does he dress like you?”

“Sometimes. He loves drag.”

That reminded me of my second question. “What’s drag?”

He laughed, his curls bouncing. “You’ve never heard of drag? What rock have you been living under?”

I could tell he hadn’t said it to be mean, but it stung anyway. I had been living under a rock, and he’d just reminded me of how much I still didn’t know.

“Sorry,” he said when my cheeks warmed. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I thought maybe you were kidding.”

“No, I wasn’t.” I wished there were a rock close by big enough to hide under right now. “It’s okay.” I took a deep breath, staring at the flyer again. “So, what is it?”

“It’s a performative art.” Kayden waved a hand up and down his body.

The corset of his gown looked painfully tight.

“It mostly involves an exaggeration of female gender roles and presentation. Men—well, mostly men,” he corrected, “dress up in costumes, wear makeup, create exaggerated personas, etcetera, etcetera… We sing, we dance, participate in drag pageants, some of us do stand-up comedy…” he went on, as if ticking things off a list. “We’re just…

Well, we’re queens,” he ended as though that said it all.

Well, I didn’t want to sing and dance; I just wanted what I wore on the outside to match how I felt on the inside, and I didn’t want to be scared to do it. Suddenly, my baggy clothes felt suffocating. “And they’re not afraid to go outside like this? You’re not afraid?”

Kayden’s smile turned from playful to sympathetic, as though he’d heard everything I didn’t say in my questions. “I used to be.”

“What changed?”

“Boy, who knew handing out flyers would turn into my revisiting my dark past,” he said dryly.

“Oh, sorry.” I grimaced. We may have been classmates, but we were still strangers. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“I’m just messing with you.” He exhaled, looking around us as if searching for a place to start.

“I used to live in Hansbrook, Nebraska. It doesn’t get any more homophobic than Hansbrook, and even when masculine-presenting, I always stood out.

I got bullied into dropping out of college my freshman year.

Then I came to Wembly to live with my uncle Dolores.

This place, and my uncle… they saved me.

Now, I’m twenty-three, starting my freshman year again, and not giving a fuck about what anyone thinks of me.

” He snapped his fingers twice to punctuate the point.

“You say Wembly saved you, but people are staring.”

He shrugged. “Wembly prides itself on being a queer-friendly town. The mayor is part of the ‘community.’ Sure, if you look hard enough, you’ll find some assholes, but assholes are everywhere—and thank fuck for that, am I right?

” he murmured in a way that made me hot around my collar. Kayden winked at my discomfort.

“You’re cute,” he said before continuing. “Anyway, for the most part, people here stare because they’re curious, not dangerous. And it’s usually the newcomers. I say give ’em a show, honey.” He twirled, and I’d have given anything for even an ounce of his confidence.

“Hey, Kayden,” someone called out. The girl who’d given up her seat for Miguel in our lecture hall approached. She and Kayden hugged, and she took half of his stack of flyers.

“Hi,” she said. “You’re the guy who was ten seconds from being late in Professor Ingram’s class.”

“Yup, that’s me.” I tugged at my shirt collar.

“I didn’t even get your name,” Kayden said. “And I’m Kayden, by the way, which… you already knew because Rachel just yelled it out.”

I knew his name prior to today, but I kept that to myself. “I’m Elliott.”

“Nice to meet you, Elliott.” He gave an exaggerated bow. “You already know Rachel here. She’s my bestie—and fellow queen.”

“Nice to officially meet you,” she said.

“I, um, like your makeup.”

She’d looked severe in all black last week with the matching lipstick and what looked like coal around her eyes. Her face was lined with shimmery gold and pale pink today.

“Thanks,” she said shyly, “I do Kayden’s makeup too.”

“Wow, you’re really good.” I wondered what colors would look nice on me.

“She can do your makeup too,” Kayden said, reading my thoughts. They were probably scribbled all over my face. “If you want.”

“Yeah, totally,” Rachel agreed. “I’m in the Nighthawk dorms, second floor, last door on the left. Stop by any time after four. That’s when my last class gets out, and we’re usually just hanging in my room afterward.”

“Maybe.” I bit my lip and looked in the direction Miguel had gone. He was heading our way, talking on the phone. Probably to Quentin.

“Anyway, we’ve gotta go,” Kayden said, “but you should definitely come to drag night.”

I looked at the flyer again, feeling an equal surge of anxiety and excitement. “What would I wear to something like this?”

Kayden stepped back to take in my outfit—my costume . “That’s the great thing about Queer Life,” he mused, “you can wear whatever you want.” He winked before strolling off with Rachel.

“Can I bring my boyfriends?” I blurted, then winced.

Kayden spun back to me. “Oh my,” he crooned, hand going to his chest as if I’d said something scandalous, “there’s more than one? I like you already, Elliott.” He and Rachel laughed. “The more the merrier. Bring ’em all.”

I watched them go, excitement overtaking my nerves now.

“Hey,” Miguel said once he’d caught up to me. “Was that the kid from Professor Ingram’s class?”

“Yeah, and Rachel.”

“Who?” He stared after them. They were nothing but a blur now.

“The girl who gave you her seat.”

“Oh, I remember her hair being black that day.” It was pink now. “What’s that?” he asked, snatching the flyer from me. “Drag night at Queer Life,” he read before handing it back and turning for the campus exit.

“They invited us. Wanna go?”

“Um, sure.” He shrugged before lacing his fingers through mine and pecking me on the lips. “Missed you, Ellie.”

I smiled at him, an extra pep in my step as we strolled down the sidewalk. “Maybe we can swing by the mall beforehand. I need to get something to wear.”

“What could you possibly need that you don’t already have?”

I glanced back like maybe doing so would remind me of my conversation with Kayden, as if picturing myself standing in that spot and listening to him be confident and brave would help me to be both. I turned back to Miguel, grinning. “Heels.”