Page 46 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

He blinked slowly, tilting his head. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“We’ve been messaging on Instagram for a while now, and I thought we were becoming a thing.”

“Wait…What?”

“Like asking each other questions, getting to know each other. And I could’ve sworn he liked me.” I chewed on my lip, my eyes threatening to tear up again. “I dunno, I’m stupid.”

“Zeke, oh my god.” Cohen shook his head, cringing. Red erupted up his neck and spread across his face. “You thought Mason fucking Bedolla—”

“I get it.” I cut him off. “Y’all obviously have history, and you hate him now.”

“That’s an understatement, but you’re wrong—”

“Iknow,and I’m sorry for making this awkward for you.” Ichewed my bottom lip, trying to find the right words to say. “It just felt good to have him care, I guess. It feels like I can’t talk to anyone lately.”

“It’s not…” He trailed off, blinking too fast. His face scrunched up in confusion. “Wait…What do you mean?”

“Just that it’s been really hard with my dad, the divorce, and now Sawyer is mad at me even though I’m trying my hardest to be the right kind of gay. It’s so much damn pressure, and having Mason to talk to helped make it easier, I guess.”

The sound of chirping cicadas filled the silence between us. Cohen stared down at his feet. Then he cleared his throat roughly, not looking at me. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone to be worth something,” he whispered finally. “There is no right kind of gay.”

“Says the guy who told me I was a bad gay,” I pointed out.

“I was wrong.” He glanced up at the forest and grimaced as though it pained him to admit. “You lit a fuse in this town, and now everyone is raging in the best possible way.”

His throat bobbed again, and the moonlight illuminated the softness in his brown eyes as our gazes met. It was a glimpse into the past. Standing in front of me was the boy who I’d met in the town square—and he saw through my hard-ass disguise.

“You spoke up and did something,” he added in a thick voice. “The people in this town are listening. They’re rallying behind what you’ve created. I hope you’re proud, Zeke.”

Chapter 19

Sunshine filtered through the trees, shadows of leaves dancing across the pavement as I steered my dirt bike toward the Fort Wood neighborhood. It reminded me of last night. Each scrap of daylight glinted like the mirror ball, the breeze a reminder of how it’d felt out on the deck. The talk with Cohen had cleared my head. Even though Sawyer was still pissed and Mason had crushed me, I didn’t feel the weight of it pressing down on my chest anymore.

When we’d gone back inside, I’d seen firsthand that Cohen hadn’t lied. More than a hundred people were dancing, laughing, partying because of me. I’d brought them together, and they were the reason why the Family First ordinance was being met with real opposition.So what if Sawyer claims I’ll make the QSA a target?I thought, slowing to a stop at the intersection. I was doing what I’d always wanted, instead of boxing myself up. She was just jealous, like she’d been in middle school when I was teacher’s favorite.

And now, I was everyone’s favorite.

I checked both ways before pulling out, satisfaction manifesting into a smug grin. Right there by the four-way stop was a new sign. White like the mayor’s Family First posters, but instead of red ink the words were in pink. VOTE CARMEN BEDOLLA FOR MAYOR! / ¡VOTA CARMEN BEDOLLA PARA ALCALDESA! they read in the same neon as the donkey pictured below them. Beneath that, endorsements included Roaring Mechanics, Beggs Nature Preserve, Jones Hardware…the list went on.

Everyone is raging in the best possible way.Cohen’s assessment from last night resurfaced as I turned onto Sawyer’s street. He might’ve said that there was no right kind of gay, but I felt like there was—and I was finallyit.

My phone vibrated yet again in my jacket pocket, and I knew it was the group chat reminding me I was late. More donkey signs flashed by as I twisted the handlebar to speed up. Sawyer had called a mandatory QSA meeting, and the quicker I got there, the quicker we could get this over with. After the success of last night’s speakeasy, I fully expected her to apologize. To tell me she was wrong.

Sunlight winked off a silver Camry as I pulled into the driveway. At least Cohen was here. He was on my side now and understood without me having to explain myself. I laughed, the irony of that thought not lost on me. The engine’s warble cut off, and I checked my phone to see what fresh hell was waiting for me.

The notification screen twisted my stomach. Right above a text from Mom reminding me about my birthday dinner tomorrow, there was a new DM from bedmas_22. From thepreview I could tell he was carrying on our conversation. Like offering me a list of his favorite queer movies somehow made up for him wanting to hook up and nothing more.

I shoved the phone away without replying and angrily kicked the dirt bike’s stand. I threw my leg over the seat to dismount, ripped my helmet off. Whatever game he was playing was confusing. It made me regret all the times I’d done the same thing to guys. I’d never been on this side before, and I didn’t know how to react. How to be calm and cool like it didn’t bother me. How to be the Zeke he wanted me to be.

Maybe it’s for the best,I decided, stomping down the basement steps.I wouldn’t know how to be a boyfriend to him anyway.Ignoring the sadness, I opened the bachelorette pad’s door. A gust of AC rolled over me, followed by tense silence. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and when they did, I nearly turned back around.

Sawyer and Kennedy were wearing matching scowls. However, Cohen’s welcoming smile gave me the encouragement I needed to come inside. I shut the door quietly behind me and took a deep breath. “Hey,” I said as casually as I could, leaning up against the wall. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s all good,” Cohen said, but Sawyer narrowed her eyes.

Yep, she’s still pissed, and she wants me to know it,I realized. Her less-than-apologetic attitude only angered me more. “Really, I was putting away the decorations and lost track of time.”

Cohen cut his eyes between us, picking up on the tension. “Thanks for, uh, coming up with the membership drive for the QSA,” he said evenly. “We’ve had seven sign-ups since last night.”

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