Page 28 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

My chest was threatening to burst, and I had to get out of here before I lost my cool. Or he saw me cry. I started to push open the door, but Sawyer’s voice stopped me. “Mr. Chapman and Mayor Buchanan,” she welcomed with sarcasm-laced politeness.

I glanced over Cohen’s shoulder and saw my father standing at the host desk. He had a generic smile in place, and the mayor’s self-righteous stare was pointed at Sawyer. My fists were shaking as they were led into the dining room. I turnedon my heel, and Cohen reached to stop me again. Crimson had bloomed up from his neck as he stood there, as he licked his bottom lip, as his eyes filled with pity I didn’t want. Another apology was on the tip of his tongue, and I couldn’t take it.

“Don’t,” I warned him, shoving outside.

The summer evening enveloped me with its heat as I straddled my dirt bike. The phone call and Cohen and the mayor’s Family First ordinance—that magnifying glass was back. I needed to calm down. Go for a ride so the engine’s warble drowned it all out. But then I glanced back toward the restaurant and faltered.

Through the windows, I could see my father and the mayor in the far-right corner. They were at the same table where he’d tried to coax me into living with him. How could they sit there and laugh like they weren’t destroying my life, the lives of every queer person in Beggs?

I had to get as far away from this place as possible.

Pulling my helmet on, I refocused on kick-starting the engine. Revving the gas obnoxiously loud. Then I went to downshift and tore out of the driveway only to stop short. Across the parking lot sat a bright-blue truck. The same one the JACass had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday. The same one with a window decal for Wildcats Baseball. The same one that carried the weight of all his expectations. And I could unlock it with the fob on my dirt bike key ring.

Don’t be immature,he’d ordered, but I was feelingveryimmature right now.

Chapter 12

Reflected green light glistened from the mirror ball. I watched it slowly spin, staring upward as Kennedy concealed my nearly healed black eye. The last two hours were spent decorating—streamers and inflatable arches, balloons and the green carpet rolled out, curtains of twinkling lights and sprinkled confetti. We’d thrown everything Mom had used for the shop at the library’s third floor. And if anyone happened to walk in, they would have thought we were having a prom instead of an illegal Pride.

“This place is legit fire,” I said in appreciation.

“How many people do you think will show up?” Kennedy asked, standing back to check her work.

“Maybe double what we had last time,” I answered as she picked out a tube of red lipstick from my backpack.

Between the new followers and the messages from other businesses already offering their spaces for next weekend, word had spread. There was a good chance tonight would beeven bigger than last Saturday.A good chance I might see Mason again too.Flutters rioted in my stomach at the thought as Kennedy painted my lips. I still hadn’t replied to his message. Still hadn’t decided if I would Z-step him.

I glanced at Sawyer on the other side of the table. Explosions reverberated from her phone’s speakers as she played the X-Men gaming app. She was already dressed in her Captain Jaymes Catz army uniform, fake beard glued down and a bald cap in place. Kennedy matched his girlfriend, Ava Daise, perfectly in the scarlet bodysuit and faux-ruby diadem adorning her twist braids. And she matched the way Ava longingly gazed at the captain too. If all went to plan, Sawyer and Kennedy would be girlfriends by the end of the night.

“Who are you supposed to be exactly?” Kennedy asked after she’d finished.

“Zelda Fitzgerald,” I explained, and struck a pose. The pearlescent beads of the too-snug dress glistened in the light, paired with the jewelry from Mom. I was feeling myself. If only I’d been able to find heels that fit instead of my sneakers. “She’s not a character, but she played one as the first American flapper during the nineteen twenties.” A moment of silence passed as Kennedy stared at me, and I rolled my eyes. “I know you’re gonna say the same thing Cohen did, that you forgot I used to be smart.”

“He’s in his asshat era,” she said with her nose scrunched up. “Iwasgonna say your headband is askew.”

“Oh,” I said, reaching for my phone on the table.

“Sorry that Co is being a dick to you. To be fair, he’s been dickish ever since last Saturday.”

“It’s been longer than that,” I muttered under my breath as I launched the front-facing camera.

“Where is he at tonight anyway?” Sawyer asked without looking up from her game.

“He said something about college essays,” Kennedy explained. “He’s worried about applications for early admittance, so he’s beingextra.”

Of fucking course he’s worried about the future.

I rolled my eyes, adjusting the headband, and checked Kennedy’s work. The makeup really pulled together the look. Darkened brows, bright-red lips, rose blush. I’d even shaved what little stubble I had.

“Thanks for the makeover,” I said. “This is perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” Kennedy replied, putting the lipstick in my backpack. She made a noise in her throat, a hmm, and tilted the bag toward me. “What are these?”

I smirked when I saw the truck parts I’d stashed for safekeeping. “Those are spark plugs,” I explained. “They ignite the combustion of air and fuel in an engine. Without them, it won’t run.”

Kennedy blinked in confusion, and then Sawyer inhaled sharply. “Oh my god,” she said, the game forgotten as she gawked at me. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” I said, my smirk now a full-on evil grin.

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