Page 5 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

“Oh?” My curiosity was piqued. “Pleasetell me he’s as upset as I’m hoping.”

“Upset would be an understatement,” she admitted and sat down on the edge of my bed. My triumphant grin was short-lived as she exhaled slowly, fixing me with a pleading stare. “You can’t keep causing trouble, Zeke. And don’t even get me started on your grades. He had a lot of thoughts about how it wasmyfault they slipped this last semester.”

I ducked my head, biting at my lip. We’d had the same conversation right after midterms. My father blamed Mom, and she blamed him for pressuring me. “They’re not so bad, Mom.”

“Not bad?” She laughed loudly like it was the funniest joke. “You bombed so hard that you nearly failed eleventh grade.”

“I think the operative word is ‘nearly.’ ”

No longer amused, she leveled her gaze. I started to argue but stopped myself. There was no use, because she was onto my self-destructive mission. “Sorry,” I said and took a seat beside her.

She reached across the quilt and grasped my hand. “Hun,” she began, squeezing it gently, “I know it’s been hell, but you can’t let what happened affect your future, okay?”

I nodded even though I didn’t buy her concern. No matter how many times she apologized, she’d still allowed my father to micromanage my life for years. Now I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. Didn’t know who I was without his rules looming over my head. Sometimes, I caught myself wishing I could go back to before. To when I never had to think about where Anthony stopped and Zeke began.

“You need to try,” she added. “Stay out of trouble this summer and start senior year fresh.” I shrugged again; school was the last thing on my mind. “Maybe you’d stay out of trouble if you had a summer job.”

“Awhat?” I blanched. “Everything’s fine, I promise—”

“You’ve been making a lot of those but not keeping them.” The firm line of her mouth told me she’d made up her mind. “It’s either work or be grounded like your father suggested.”

“I’ll take the first option,” I said quickly, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

“Thought you’d see it my way,” she said, and bumped my shoulder. “Good thing I already got you a job.”

“Doing what exactly?”

“You’ll be my mechanic assistant this summer,” sheexplained. “It’ll be like old times when we worked on the SUV together.”

I nodded as the words sank in but knew it would never be like before. Neither one of us was the same person we used to be. The divorce was the first time she’d stood up for herself, for me. My father had manipulated her into thinking she needed him. However, that didn’t excuse the fact she’d allowed him to keep both of us under his thumb. She still felt like a stranger I didn’t know how to trust.

“When do I start?” I asked, accepting my fate.

“Tomorrow—”

“I’m supposed to help the QSA plan for Pride,” I interrupted. “We’re meeting before Sawyer has to work…”

She considered me for a moment and let her gaze drift to the rainbow flag I’d just hung up. “Fine.” She obliged, her narrowed eyes softening. We both knew it hadn’t been easy for me, and she was trying to be more supportive. “You’ll start Friday.”

I groaned inwardly and tried to summon the strength to get through this plot twist. Summer freedom was already fading, and it was only the first day. It would be a long two months stuck in this small-ass town with nothing to do.

Chapter 3

Sawyer and I were on the oversized sofa in her basement, or “the bachelorette pad” as she called it. The home theater setup included a television so big it wouldn’t fit in my new bedroom and too many speakers to count. It was perfect for hours of gaming and blocking out the rest of the world. Even more so for our Whovian summer tradition.

“This scene makes me feral,” I said as the episode’s title sequence finished.

The annual rewatch of our topDoctor Whoepisodes had arrived at my number one favorite. The start of series five held a special place in my heart. The Doctor had just crashed his time traveling ship, the TARDIS, and emerged in his new form, the actor Matt Smith taking the helm as the eleventh version of the character. He was so wet, so glistening, so disheveled that it had given me many emotions when I’d first watched it.

“No doubt this moment was my sexual awakening,” I added as he climbed out of the TARDIS.

“Amy Pond in her police costume was mine,” Sawyer said dreamily. She was referencing Karen Gillan, who played the Doctor’s new companion. “The red hair and short skirt were all the proof I needed.”

We’d started watching this show the summer after seventh grade when the internet had gone out because of a heat storm. Unable to stream, her mother had dug out old Blu-ray seasons of the show, and we were immediately obsessed. After we’d watched this specific episode, we looked at each other in awe. Both of us hadknownwe weren’t straight and shared this new discovery—that’s why it was so important to me.

Things had been simpler that summer. We’d made it a habit to patrol the streets, like the Doctor searches the universe to help people in need, to protect our neighborhood against threats. Of course, we’d argued over who was the Time Lord, but I refused to be just a companion. That sense of control still stuck with me too, and rewatching episodes was comforting. It felt like we were back to being kids who could tell each other everything. So much had changed since, but maybe…

“I went out patrolling last night,” I said with forced casualness, casting a glance over at her. “Like we used to do.”

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