Page 48 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

“I’ve tried telling you,” I said, voice wavering. “Honestly, I’m sick of trying to make you listen. If you’re just gonna bully me to quit because you’re jealous—”

“That’s a low blow.” Her words were clipped, her face growing red.

I knew I couldn’t take it back, but now she knew how I felt. Deep down, it was me who was the jealous one, though. Sawyer had always been so sure of herself, unlike me. My father disapproved of her, and that made me want to be like her. But it was clear she thought I’d never be as good as her.

“You know what? I don’t need your permission to throw my own speakeasy.” My breath had grown ragged, and I turned onmy heels. “I’ll just handle everything by myself,” I called over my shoulder. “Again.”

The basement door slammed behind me as tears rolled down my cheeks. I knew I should stay and work things out. But if I went back inside, it would be like going back into that shoebox—hiding a part of myself so someone else could have their way.

And I was done suffocating.

Chapter 20

bedmas_22

Hey, you okay?

Mason’s fifth consecutive message taunted me as I sat in the far-right corner at The Cove. I still hadn’t answered him. Or the text Cohen sent in the group chat asking the same question. I almost told both of them that I was fine, that I had already planned another great speakeasy on my own. However, that would’ve been a lie.

Ever since I could remember, I’d always had to ask for permission, whether it was asking my father to join the QSA or Mom if I could go to a concert with Sawyer. I didn’t know what I felt without someone telling me how to feel. If Mason was acting likesomethinghad happened between us, then I’d have some clue how to react. If Sawyer had made an effort to stop me from leaving last night, I would’ve known I was more than her shadow.

All I could do was stay under a car today, take apart an engine, and put it back together, until Mom flipped the closed sign for Roaring Mechanics. She’d lingered in the doorway, giving me a parting smile before going upstairs to get ready—one full of admiration, like when she’d said she was proud of me. AndIfelt proud too, despite what’d happened. I’d stood up for myself and put myself out there.

I don’t need anyone’s permission,I decided, glancing back at The Cove’s host stand. Sawyer hadn’t even bothered to speak to me when we arrived. Not even a second glance as she motioned us toward the dining room, like she forgot it was my birthday. I guess there weren’t any celebratory wishes or sneaky traditions this year. Just me stuck at a table with the last person I wanted to see.

“You’re being rude, Anthony,” my father said, snapping my attention back to the conversation.

“Huh?” I asked. He cleared his throat and nodded toward my phone. Leaving Mason’s message on read, I shoved my phone in the pocket of my chinos.

“Your father was discussing the future, as always,” Mom replied, setting down her glass of sweet tea. The raised set of her shoulders told me she was holding back her anger. “Please go on, James.”

The JACass smiled his fake smile. “I sent the athletics director at UA some videos of your pitching. He thinks you have a good shot at getting admitted based on your skill,” he said with far too much gusto. “Your coach is more than willing to let you rejoin the team.”

He sat back and waited for me to reply. Judging by the width of his toothy grin, he thought I was finally going to succumb tohis demands. The collar of my shirt was threatening to strangle me. I unbuttoned a few buttons and tried to block out the hundred different conversations buzzing in the restaurant.

“It’s a lot to think about,” he said before I could speak, reaching into his sports coat. A small white envelope appeared on the table in front of me. “How about you open your present first before you decide?”

“What’s this?” I asked, taking it from him. His eagerness only exacerbated my skepticism. I ripped open the seal. A slip of paper fell on the tablecloth, and I picked it up.Huh?He’d gifted me a check for $1,000 made out to the Beggs High School QSA. “I don’t understand.”

“Chapman Law is now sponsoring the QSA,” he explained.

“Why?” I asked, sharing a look with Mom, who seemed equally confused.

He forced a chuckle like I’d just told a bad joke. “Because you’re my son, and I want you to know I support you.”

Support me?I read the check again. A thousand dollars to make up for how he’d treated me ever since I came out.Something isn’t right.

“What are you doing, James?” Mom asked cautiously. “First you throw your support behind Family First, and now this?”

“Katherine,” he began, his shoulders rising to match hers, “that was just business, nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal,” I repeated. “Is that whatthisis, business?”

“Son, I’m trying to meet you halfway, here.” He deflated with a rough exhale through his nose. “I accept you, and it would be great if you could accept me.”

“What does that even mean?” Mom asked for me.

“That our son doesn’t appreciate what I’ve done for him.” He locked eyes with her, and his jaw flexed. “I let him live with you in that dump apartment and how does he thank me? By nearly ruining the life I helped him build, and I refuse to let him continue to do so.”

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