Page 19

Usually.

I was so annoyed at Sawyer. It was one of her favorites, yet she was too preoccupied with texting Kennedy to even pay attention.

At least I was capable of ignoring my DMs. It had been my turn to ask Mason a question, and I felt bold enough to ask his idea of a perfect first date.

Despite the fact that my palms were sweating after I pressed send, I’d set my phone to the side.

Because that’s what we did when the Doctor was saving the universe.

The credits began to roll, and I glanced over at her.

Both the bowling shirt and baggy jeans she’d found thrifting made her look tiny.

But her attitude was enormous as her thumbs continued to tap out messages like I wasn’t here.

She’d been giving me the cold shoulder ever since I came over.

I knew she was still ticked about the Instagram post. She hadn’t said much to me other than demanding an emergency QSA meeting tonight to plan the next speakeasy.

I’d agreed even though I’d already made up my mind about what we were going to do.

I reached for the remote and stopped our episode queue.

A hush flooded the basement as she ignored my lingering glare.

Whatever, I groused internally while unlocking my own phone.

Instagram was still open to the message thread with Mason, and my heart soared when I saw that he’d replied.

Then it plummeted as I read his messages.

bedmas_22

Idk the perfect first date. Never really been on one.

bedmas_22

What’s your god tier band?

He’d completely ignored my hint, instead of playing along like I’d hoped.

I should have just asked him out. But no, I’d been too much of a chickenshit.

I sent back that I loved Bleachers, then threw my phone down on the sofa.

First Sawyer and now him? I huffed in annoyance and waited for her to notice me.

A full minute passed, and I couldn’t take the deliberate silence anymore. My annoyance bubbled over. “So,” I began loudly, “is Kennedy on her way yet?”

“She just finished summer cheer practice,” Sawyer said without looking up.

“And Cohen isn’t coming?” I pressed, hoping she’d thaw out.

“Nope.”

She was deliberately holding a grudge against me, when really, I should’ve been holding one against her. Even after they’d completely left me out of planning for Pride, I’d come through and saved the day. What else do I have to do to prove myself?

“Any more sign-ups for the QSA?” I pressed, watching her ignore me. “I know the principal has that new rule about needing twenty members.”

Finally, she lifted her face from her phone screen. Surprise melted her icy attitude. “No, we haven’t…” She trailed off, but I knew she wanted to ask how I knew about the rule.

“Cohen told me,” I explained. “In the middle of verbally trashing me.”

“What is it with you two?” she asked with an eye roll. “Are you still bitter over Geometry Derick—”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the new rule?” I cut in. She went silent, twirling a lock of her hair. The blue tips spun while she bit her bottom lip in thought. Then I remembered how Cohen had texted the wrong thread on Pride Day. “And why did y’all start a new group chat and leave me out?”

“Z,” she began with a sigh, “I know you don’t care. Or you didn’t until now, I guess.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I sat up straighter, angling toward her as Cohen’s words stirred in my memory. You’re not really present.

She gave me a condescending shrug. “You’ve never shown much interest in the QSA or celebrating Pride before now.”

“You…you really think I don’t care?” I asked over the swell of guilt.

“I guess I just don’t get why now you’re all suddenly into Pride.”

“Uh…” I couldn’t find the words to make her understand she had it right in all the wrong ways.

“Is it because Mason’s into it?”

“No, it’s not—”

“Being out and proud because it fits your new personality,” she started, gesturing from my long hair down to the rainbow on my T-shirt, “that’s not what it’s about, Zeke. The first Pride was an uprising, and if you haven’t noticed, we’re still being forced to fight for our rights.”

My hands fisted, fingernails digging into my palms at the accusation.

“Sawyer,” I said through a steady breath, trying to find the words to explain everything I’d kept from her for so many years.

How the JACass had ruled my life like a dictator.

How I was told that I couldn’t be out like her. “It has been really hard for me, okay?”

“And it hasn’t been hard for me?” she retorted. “I hear the shit they say about me, see the looks they give me when I’m not acting textbook femme. Being a lesbian in this small-ass town isn’t easy either.”

“That’s not what—”

“And Kennedy, do you think it’s easy for her?”

I shook my head, too many thoughts buzzing in my mind, and glared at her. “Why are you biting my head off?”

“I’m not—”

“Are you really that pissed about the speakeasy?” I inserted. And before she could answer: “So what? You’re gonna sit there and bulldoze me like we’re back in middle school?”

Her eyes went wide, and I knew I’d struck a nerve.

“I’m the QSA president, and you didn’t even discuss it with me before making plans for the club,” she said heatedly and too quickly, as though she’d rehearsed for this very moment.

“In fact, you didn’t discuss anything with me before deciding we were doing a month of speakeasies. ”

“Saw, c’mon.” I laughed, trying to defuse the situation, and brought my hand to my chest. “It was just an Insta post. I didn’t do it on purpose, titty promise. I’m sorry—”

“It was a total simp-for-attention move, and you know it.” She closed her eyes and exhaled roughly. I could tell she was trying to mask how hurt she was. “Are you even taking this seriously?”

I’m trying! I yelled inwardly. “Look, I wasn’t trying to offend you,” I said with forced calmness. “It was because of my—”

She cut me off. “I bet you didn’t even consider the safety of everyone at the nature lodge.”

“ What an astute observation,” I said sarcastically, standing from the sofa before I lost my temper.

She wasn’t in the mood to let me explain myself.

And I was on the verge of blowing up like I had with Cohen.

It didn’t matter if the rangers had ensured everyone’s safety when they’d offered, or that I was doing all this to prove to Sawyer and the QSA that I was good enough. “I’m gonna dip out.”

“Are you for real right now?” she shot back. “Kennedy isn’t even here yet, and we have to get this plan in place, especially since you already announced it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, holding back what I really wanted to say. That I couldn’t sit here and let them both shit all over me. That I was so pissed I was seeing red. That I refused to let anyone tell me what to do, how to be. “I’ll figure it out since it’s my fault.”

My palms gripped the handlebars as I gave the dirt bike some gas.

Warbles sounded from the engine. I turned sharply out of Sawyer’s neighborhood, picking up speed.

The headlight beam lit up the darkened streets of Beggs while my mind raced, my phone weighing heavy in my pocket with messages from Mason I couldn’t reply to, a message in the group chat demanding I come back.

Sawyer might’ve been pissed, but now I was too.

She didn’t care enough to let me explain myself, just like Cohen.

It was like dodgeball all over again. We might not be playing the game anymore, but I was still ducking her aim.

Ever since she and I became friends, she always called the shots.

First at recess, and now with the speakeasies.

But they were mine. She was trying to take them away from me. Doubt ensnared me as I drove home.

You have to stop this nonsense rattled inside my head as I looked up at the new Chapman Law billboard my father had installed.

The picture of us in matching dress shirts reminded me that I’d had no authority over my life when the photo was taken.

Now I got to decide what my college plans were and live with Mom and be out like I should’ve been all along.

That’s why I’d really wanted to join the QSA, to find a way to be me.

I just hadn’t realized what I was doing before the speakeasies.

I lowered my gaze to the town square and saw the Family First posters still on the lampposts.

It was as though we’d never set up Pride Day.

Not a single rainbow flag was still flying.

Mayor Buchanan had done his best to soothe the anger we’d caused with the event, a debacle that had been covered up with his new ordinance.

My eyes moved toward the pavilion and the donkey statue.

A literal jackass, just like my father, like the mayor and everyone else who supported him.

I could feel the spark of anger deep inside my chest as I stared at it.

How it’d once mesmerized me but now made me feel like I didn’t belong in Beggs.

That I needed to keep my head down so nothing could hurt me.

I gripped the handlebars harder in frustration.

If only they knew we hadn’t gone anywhere.

We were still here, still celebrating Pride.

My line of sight focused behind the statue on the bright lights of Jones Hardware.

The front window displayed signs for a paint sale, and I glanced back at the billboard.

An idea formed as I steered the dirt bike toward the parking lot.

This town was in desperate need of a reminder that they couldn’t erase the pride in Beggs.

It was as though I was moving on autopilot, the same as when I’d climbed up that rusty ladder weeks ago.

I lowered the kickstand and marched to the hardware store.

A waft of cold AC blasted me as the automatic door slid open.

Blinking away the harshness of the fluorescents, I searched the aisle signs for the paint section.

“Welcome to Jones,” a clerk called in a smooth baritone. “Can I help you find something?”

My momentum fizzled to a stop. The sound of Damian’s voice took me back to that same night when Billy punched me. I wanted to spontaneously combust. To be anywhere other than here.

“Zeke?” Damian called, and I reluctantly turned.

He was propped up on a stool behind the register.

The store’s orange shirt was bright against the brown expanse of his biceps, stretching tight as he crossed his arms. I focused on the white hammer logo instead of meeting his gaze.

“Didn’t realize you were working here,” I muttered, a ghost ache radiating from my right eye.

“Dad needed help this summer,” he said carefully. Too carefully. My attention snapped up to his face. The reserved set of his mouth told me he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit. “We’re about to close.”

“I won’t be long,” I offered, unable to move as he considered me.

His tight expression was giving apprehension.

It was the same one he wore when he was up to bat, bases loaded at the bottom of the ninth inning.

“Look, man, I’m not here to start anything.

I just need to get some paint and I’ll be gone. ”

He nodded once, his jaw relaxing. “Sorry about Peak,” he said with a sigh. “How’s your eye?”

“Fine.” The bruising had nearly faded, along with the sting of Billy’s words. “It was my bad. Totally forgot they don’t call him Lightning for nothing.”

“For real,” he breathed out. “I tried to stop him, but you were making it worse.”

“Sorry,” I said. “It’s just that the team’s response to me being gay…Billy has been such a dick about it. And yeah. I’m sorry, man.”

We maintained eye contact for a few seconds, and then he nodded once. “I don’t give two shits about you being gay, just so you know.”

“Thanks, Damian. Really.” I tried to smile, but I couldn’t. I’d just assumed Damian was like Billy, was like the others who’d gone full-on paranoid in the locker room.

“I know it might be too late, but I’m here if you want to talk.” He shrugged, offering a smile. “I never stopped being your friend. Okay, that’s a lie. I might’ve been mad at you for like five seconds when you quit the team without telling me. I had to hear it from Peak.”

“Sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up,” I offered.

“We’re all good, bro,” he said, glancing at his smartwatch.

“Right, you’re about to close.”

“Let’s hang soon, okay?”

I nodded, turning toward the paint aisle. Just like that, we were on friendly terms again. It felt like we were back in the dugout and sitting together on the bench. As though I hadn’t tried to fight Billy and put Damian in the middle of it. Too bad Sawyer and I couldn’t make up so easily.

Some fights hurt worse than getting a fist in the face.