Page 42 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

“You know how we usually take you out to eat at The Cove…” she started hesitantly. “He asked if he could—”

“No.”

“—take you this year. He wants to talk.”

Damn it, Sawyer jinxed me.“Hard pass,” I said, risking a glance at my phone. Still no new messages.

“Zeke, I get it. Trust me, I really do.” She huffed from the heaviness of her words. “I won’t make you, but I think you should.”

“Why?”

“He wants to discuss the future with you.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a finger to stop me. “And you can tell him what we decided. I’ll go with you if you want, and we can present a united front. No matter what he says, you’ll be eighteen and free to make your own choices. I’ll make sure he leaves understanding that.”

“Fine,” I muttered.Because I want to see the look on his face.“Only if you come too.”

“Then we’ll both go.”

She let out a tense exhale and leaned against thedoorframe. Slowly, she took in my room. I watched her gaze travel from the pride flag above my bed to the picture of us on the dresser.

“I should’ve done that for you a long time ago,” she said, voice quieter. “Present a united front, I mean.”

Her expression flickered from sadness to the remorse I’d come to know. “Mom,” I heard myself say, “we are now.”

She gave me a watery smile. “I know you had a hard time coming out because of him, but I’m relieved you have the QSA now and that Sawyer is there for you.” At the mention of her name, a pang rattled inside me. “Especially with how scary Family First—”

“I’mnotafraid,” I said forcefully, mainly to myself.

“It’s okay if you are,” she added softly. “You don’t have to hide it.”

But it wasn’t okay. Too many people were looking at me to be their King of Pride. To be brave despite the ban and…Iwantedto be that person.

“An uproar is starting,” Mom continued, “because someone vandalized that statue in the town square.”

“Oh?” I fought to keep my face neutral.

“It’s all over the Beggs Facebook Group. They’re blaming Carmen’s campaign, and now the mayor is doubling down on his Family First bullshit. I swear if I could, I would divorce James Anthony Chapman all over again for sponsoring—” She took a breath in an attempt to maintain her composure, sparing me an apologetic look. She motioned to the mug on my nightstand. “Didn’t expect to get this deep before coffee. Is there any left, or do I need to brew some?”

“I might’ve finished a pot,” I said sheepishly, shoulders rising. “I needed the boost to figure out tomorrow night.”

“What’s happening?” she asked through a yawn.

Shit.I rushed to find an excuse. “A party. Event, I mean. For the QSA. To, um, get more club sign-ups. For the fall.”

“A membership drive?”

“Yeah…that.”

“Still that boy who wants to fix things,” she said fondly, looking once more at the picture frame. Then she turned to leave. “Okay. I’ll put another pot of coffee on and get the shop open. Just meet me downstairs when you finish.”

“Be there in a minute,” I called as she retreated into the hallway.

But I wasn’t anywhere near done. I glanced back at the laptop, her footsteps in sync with the blinking cursor. Everything was spiraling in my mind. The uproar in town and the statue and the mayor and what Cohen had said at the rec center and lying to Mom about Saturday’s speakeasy…

A membership drive,she’d called it.

An idea began taking shape. Tomorrow could be about getting more sign-ups. Then I’d single-handedly save the QSA. I reached for my phone to text the group chat. However, a new-message notification paused my excitement. Mason had finally replied. My heart thundered in my eardrums as I tapped it to read it.

Relief eased the tension in my chest. I laughed softly, a faint “hah” as air rushed from my lungs. Because this response meant that hemustlike me, despite every messy thing in my life.

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