Page 15 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

The small basement of Estrella Books was packed. The community members who’d set up earlier were here, along with a few others I’d never seen before. They mingled as music blasted from the cheer squad’s borrowed sound system. A rainbow-hued glow from pride flags draped over lamps served sophisticated nightclub vibes. Sawyer and Kennedy were dancing, Kennedy’s floral sundress twirling, while Cohen was stationed by the back exit door as a lookout for the alley.

It felt like a real speakeasy.

I had been expecting something like we’d planned, with a drag show or maybe even a parade. Neither of those options was possible in the small space, but it was somehow better. Less public than the town square and stress-free after the hell that’d happened earlier. A safe space where none of that mattered.

The room was growing warm and stuffy as we danced. I didn’t mind it, though, pushing sweaty hair off my face. No one could judge me down here. Not even myself. The pressure was lessening with every new song. Every spin Mason and I did on the makeshift dance floor. Every time his hands found a way to rub and squeeze and linger on my body like he couldn’t get enough of me.

His warm palm stilled on my biceps, squeezing gently. He leaned in close to whisper, “Be right back.” The sudden nearness of his mouth made me tingle as he excused himself.

I watched him take the stairs up to the bathroom. A smirk curled my lips as I envisioned where tonight might lead. It grew wider when I saw Sawyer motioning for me, nodding at the door before slipping outside. The next song started upwhile I excitedly worked my way across the room. I couldn’t wait to tell her about Mason.

The music faded away as I followed her into the alley, the door clanging shut behind me. I inhaled the fresh night air and grinned. “You’re never gonna guess…” My voice fell when I saw Cohen pacing back and forth, chewing at his thumb. “What’s wrong?”

“A cop showed up,” he said shakily.

“Don’t worry, I handled it,” Sawyer added. “Told him we were having a party for Ms. Bedolla, which technically isn’t a lie.”

“Hold up,” I said, not following. “Whathappened?”

“It was because of the noise,” Cohen explained. His anxious stride came to a stop in front of me, and he wrung his hands. “We tried to get your attention, but you were in your own world as usual.”

“Sorry, I was dancing with this Mason guy,” I offered. “Do you know—”

“I’m well aware of who fucking Mason Bedolla is, Zeke,” he spat out.

“Wait…were you trying to get with him tonight?” I asked, taken aback by the thought of Cohen being sexual. Being anything other than annoying.

“Hell no, he’s the absolute worst—never mind, it’s not important,” he nearly shouted, his words tense. “I’m freaked because we could have gotten caught, and you’re too busy beingyouto care.”

“Cohen,” Sawyer said, holding her hands up to calm him. “It’s not Zeke’s fault.”

“It’ll be fine,” I told him. “The cops are useless. I trashed my dad’s billboard without them seeing.”

“So you’re the reason they installed security cameras after they cleaned it up?” He threw his hands up, muttering “Unbelievable.”

“Relax, Coco,” I urged. “Come back inside and dance—”

“I can’trelax,Zeke.” He stressed the word with sarcasm. “Do you know what would happen if we got caught? Because I actually read the small print on those Family First posters. No Pride events. Period. We could get fined or, worse, arrested.”

“They’re not going to arrest us,” Sawyer pointed out.

“We’ll at least be forced to do community service or something,” he went on. “Then it would be on record when we apply to college. And there go my chances for scholarships.”

“Hey,” Sawyer began in a gentle tone, “we’ll be fine.”

“Hewill be,” Cohen said to her, shaking his head. “His father will pull strings, since Chapman Law represents the town, but henevercared about Pride until now—”

“Stop saying that,” I interrupted. “I’ve always fucking cared”—I motioned toward the alley door—“and we’re having Pride like the QSA wanted. At least I’m trying.”

“We’retrying,” Sawyer corrected, side-eyeing me. “We finally did something for the queer community in Beggs.”

I wanted to ask if he knew how proud I felt tonight, but I was sick of explaining myself. “You’ve made it clear how hard y’all have worked,” I said instead, “and I understand how dangerous the consequences are. But it’s one night, okay? I’ll stay here and monitor the door if you want.”

“I don’t know…” He trailed off, gulping as the thumps of music suddenly died. “Do you think the cop came back?”

Sawyer shook her head in confusion, and she opened the door to check. “It’s just Ms. Bedolla,” she assured him. “Sheasked if she could say a few words”—she checked her phone—“and it’s almost time for it to end.”

“Let’s just go back in and have fun, okay?” I almost patted Cohen on the shoulder to calm his nerves. Then I remembered how much of an asshole he’d been and stopped myself. “This was my idea, and I’ll take the blame if something happens. Swear.”

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