Page 47 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

“Really?” I asked, relief cutting through my resentment. He nodded, and my gaze shifted back to Sawyer and Kennedy. “That’s great, right?”

“Just means we have to deal with jockstrap bros because of you,” Sawyer said.

Before I could ask, Kennedy chimed in. “Some of the guys on the varsity baseball team,” she explained. “Damian Jones signed them up.”

“Wow.” I was surprised by that. It made me wish I’d given the team a chance instead of writing everyone off. “At least that brings us up to eleven members now, including us.”

“Us?” Sawyer asked, and Cohen inhaled roughly. Almost as though he was expecting this. “You’re gonna stay in the QSA then?”

I shot her a WTF expression, because why would I quit after everything I’d done?“Obviously.”

“I wasn’t sure you cared—”

“Saw, really?” I cut her off, crossing my arms. Her nonchalant shrug imploded all restraints I had on my temper. “Of fucking course I do. Look at what the speakeasies have done for Beggs, and Carmen’s election is stronger because of what I—”

“You?” she asked with a dry laugh. “That’s the problem. You’re always only thinking about yourself.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Your main-character energy is through the roof,” she said, shaking her head. “Ever since we came back from winter break, it’s been theZekeshow. We get it. You don’t want to be called Anthony and you changed your entire personality—”

“What she means,” Kennedy amended, side-eyeing her as though it wasn’t what they’d rehearsed, “is that it feels likeyou’re making Pride Month aboutyou,and we’re worried that it’s getting too out of hand. Something bad could happen.”

“Something badhashappened,” I pointed out. “The Family First ordinance! Which only came aboutbecauseof the QSA, if you want to point fingers.”

The tense energy was escalating, and Cohen raised his hands to mediate. “Let’s just calm down,” he said. “Zeke does have a point. None of this would’ve happened if we hadn’t petitioned for Pride. And Sawyer also has every right to be worried.”

“We shouldn’t have fought for Pride Day, then?” She turned on Cohen, and I hated the snippy tone of her voice. Hated how she was acting, how she was making me react. “What were we supposed to do? Keep quiet and not fight—”

“That’s not what he meant,” I said in his defense. “This is a good thing, Sawyer. Everything that’s happenedisgood.” What he’d told me outside on the deck came pouring out. “The speakeasies have helped other people fight with us. They want us here in Beggs, and it’s more important now with the governor and…What?”

“When did you turn into such an advocate?” she questioned, cocking her head. “Last time I checked, I had tobegyou to even join the club.”

“Sawyer,” Cohen warned. He knew about some of the hell I’d gone through. “Regardless of why he joined, I’m glad he did. The speakeasies have helped the work we’re doing for Carmen.”

“Now you’re a fan?” Kennedy asked. “You’re the one who blew us off to work on her campaign because you got scared—”

“Fear doesn’t have anything to do with this,” I interrupted.Cohen glared at her. The situation was going zero to a hundred too quickly. “Why are we even fighting? We’re celebrating Pride in Beggs like we wanted, and now the homophobic asshole mayor might not win reelection because of the support we’ve rallied. Weshouldbe celebrating.”

A beat of silence passed as we all stared at one another. I took a deep breath and digested what Sawyer had said about it beingthe Zeke show.She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either. I’d been second to her for so long while she called the shots. The only thing that had changed was the fact that I now refused to stay silent.

“At least there is only one weekend left,” Sawyer finally said. “Let’s just keep it simple, and then we can go back to normal.”

Normal?I didn’t think I could ever go back to how things were. “It has to be big,” I countered. That’s what people wanted, for me to live up to the expectations they’d crowned me with. “A huge party to end Pride Month.”

Sawyer twisted at her hair, too focused on whatever was happening in her head to talk. It was Kennedy who spoke first. “Zeke, having a membership drive was good. I’ll give you that,” she admitted. “It’s too dangerous, tho—”

“Dangerous?” I narrowed my eyes at her, then Sawyer. “Howwould either of you know? Y’all bailed last night.”

“Because if you haven’t noticed, Mayor Buchanan is on the warpath since you painted that statue,” Sawyer finally said. “He’s looking for any excuse to improve his image. We aren’t gonna risk getting caught by doing something stupid like throwing a rager.”

The expression on Sawyer’s face took me back to middleschool. It was the same pinch to her brow, firm set to her mouth that she’d worn in PE. Like I should feel weak and let her push me around. Let her pummel me with the dodgeball and sit out on the bleachers until the next game. That was how our friendship had always been. Until now.

“They’re not stupid,” I said. “Last time I checked, I was in charge of them, and if I want to throw a giant party then I will.”

“You’re acting so reckless.” She shared a glance with Kennedy that let me know they agreed. Cohen shook his head, but she ignored him. “There’s a lot at stake, and if you’re not gonna take this seriously…then maybe you shouldn’t be in the QSA.”

She locked eyes with me, the amber honey of hers trapping me in their sticky stare. Then suddenly it was only us. Cohen and Kennedy faded away as every moment in Sawyer-and-Zeke’s list of traditions boiled down to one common thread: she was the one who made the decisions.

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