Page 29 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

“What did I miss?” Kennedy asked.

“Zeke’s dad had a meltdown when he and Mayor Shithead were leaving The Cove and couldn’t get his truck cranked.”

“You didn’t,” Kennedy gasped.

“Spark plugs are easy to take out if you know how to do it,” I offered. “And I know how to do it, so…”

Sawyer burst out laughing, her fake beard wobbling as she shook her head. “They had to have it towed and called a taxi to pick them up. You should have seen him marching around, opening the hood like he knew what he was doing,” she managed to say between snickers. “I watched the whole thing from the host desk, and it was so damn preposterous in the best way possible.”

“How dreadfully embarrassing for him,” I said with a soft chuckle.

Taking the spark plugs out had been easy with the emergency tool kit under the driver’s seat. The JACass better be grateful I didn’t drive it into a ditch. Because that thought had crossed my mind, but I’d decided to give him a minor inconvenience he couldn’t solve instead. It was a surefire way to get under his skin.

“Do you think he’ll know it was you?” Kennedy asked, her cherry lips still parted in awe.

“That’s the plan.”

“No offense,” Sawyer wheezed, “but I hope. To god. I’m working on your birthday. So I can witness even more of his preposterousness. When you both return to the scene of the crime.”

“Birthday dinner with him? I think the fuck not.” I grimaced and shook my head roughly. The last time we’d all been together at The Cove was to discuss joint custody, and it’d ended with Mom in tears. “I would rather have Billy ‘Lightning’ Peak, thesecond-best pitcher on the Wildcats, punch me repeatedly in the dick than sit through a dinner with them fighting again.”

“Melodramatic much?” she teased, laughter subsiding. “I know how much you love your penis, so definitely don’t do that. Because I’d have to hear you complain for…” She looked to Kennedy. “How long do you think it’d take for a bruised penis to heal?”

“The hell would I know?” Kennedy retorted.

“Probably way, way too long,” I pointed out.

“Fair.” Too much thought etched itself on her brow. She absently ran a hand over the bald cap’s ridges, a result of the traumatic event that had activated her character’s X-Gene. “That just means I’ll make sure your sneaky birthday tradition is extra fabulous then, and we can bingeDoctor Whoafterward.”

“Sneaky birthdaywhat?” Kennedy asked, adjusting her headpiece.

“We go over to West Point and pretend to be hotel guests,” I explained as the third floor’s door clanged open. “Sneak into the complimentary breakfast—”

“Zeke?”

I turned at the sound of my name, twisting in my seat. Bronwen, the librarian who’d messaged me on Instagram, was dressed like Elizabeth Bennet fromPride and Prejudice.She waved excitedly to signal that guests were arriving at the back entrance.

“Showtime,” I announced, standing up from the table.

Sawyer gave Kennedy a soft smile as they followed suit. Together, we took one final look around the space we’d transformed. Tonight was finally here, and no one could stop us. We were ready to party.

I lost count at fifty.

We hadn’t expected this many to show up, but they were here. It wasn’t like last weekend. This wasn’t a makeshift party—it was an actual celebration. Everyone had come in costume, some dancing under the mirror ball while others talked and laughed and posed for pictures. There weren’t second glances over shoulders or darting eyes. We were all here, all in on the same secret, all free from fear.

I walked along the outskirts while Sawyer readied the drag show. Kennedy had lined the back wall with tables for the businesses who supported the QSA. From the owners of Ryland Farms on one end to the rangers from the nature preserve on the other, they were all promoting safe spaces. I didn’t expect any of them to know who I was in my Zelda costume, but a familiar face smiled at me from underneath an orange wig.

My sneakers squeaked to a halt as Carmen Bedolla waved, her glittery planet dress iridescent. Her dark-brown eyes were bright with excitement as I headed toward the Estrella Books table. After spending hours staring into Mason’s, I could see where he’d gotten them from. The way she looked at me felt like he was standing there too, judging me for not replying to his message. It made my phone weigh heavy in my hand as I waved hello.

“Well, look at you!” Carmen greeted as she gestured at my dress. “Are you supposed to be Daisy fromThe Great Gatsby?”

“Zelda Fitzgerald, actually,” I corrected sheepishly, crossing my arms.

“Some say she was a source of inspiration for the character,” she said with a head nod. “How appropriate given these circumstances.”

“Thanks, uh…” I almost asked if her grandson was here but stopped myself. Because it didn’t matter if he was or not. “Who are you?” I asked instead.

“Ms. Frizzle from The Magic School Bus.” She held up a stuffed green lizard with a flourish. “When I was an elementary teacher, I read the series to my students, even taught Mason how to read with the Spanish translations.”

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