I scoffed at her as she disappeared into the garage, then my eyes darted to the painting in her wake.Got any wild ideas for a speakeasy?I silently asked, half joking. But then I sat upright as Mom’s words resonated in my mind.
She would be gone on Saturday, meaning I’d be home alone. With a very large garage that had plenty of room when cars weren’t being serviced. I looked around the lobby, recallinghow it’d been transformed into Zelda’s Music Emporium for the opening-night speakeasy…
Here,I decided.Right here would be perfect for Saturday.I could still remember where we’d hung the decorations and moved the tools to make space. Roaring Mechanics would be the perfect place for Pride Month to go out with a bang. I could decorate when she left Saturday and clean up before she got back on Sunday.
Excited and relieved, I grabbed my phone. The selfie I’d taken awhile back for Mason,FakeMason, would be perfect for Insta, with the tools spread out around me and grease smudged on my cheek.“Gettin’ dirty this weekend” would be a great caption…My thoughts stopped short when I saw the message thread still pulled up. He’d sent another DM thirteen minutes ago.
bedmas_22
I know you’re not talking to me, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. Mayor Buchanan knows about the underground Pride speakeasies.
Chapter 22
zekechapman
who are you?
He dodged my question. His reply was that it didn’t matter, only that he was warning me. For a split second, his message had me worrying over everything Sawyer had said.Dangerousandrecklessandif you get caught…But then the comments on the selfie I’d posted—excited RSVPs and pride flag emojis and praise—reinforced how I’d felt last weekend. The people in Beggs were listening, rallying behind what I’d created.
I wasn’t scared of Mayor Buchanan, of Family First, or of getting caught.
Screw the warning. The mayor was shaken because of the upcoming election. Because I’d painted that donkey statue and called him a jackass. Him knowing about the Pride events only strengthened my resolve. I’d make this last weekend huge inspite of him, my father, Fake Mason, the QSA. Everyone else was expecting me to be their King of Pride, and Iwouldfinish this month with a bang.
I reread my DM thread with bedmas_22 for what felt like the millionth time and shoved my phone into the pocket of my khakis. Shoved his warning out of my head as I took the steps up to the rec center. He might’ve been trying to help, but he was also a stranger who’d tricked me into telling him things I’d never told anyone else. I was so unbelievably ashamed over it, because I’d actually started to like whoever this person was. And I was sick of being betrayed by everyone I let in.
The lobby’s doors slid open, and I crossed over to the elevator to press the call button. I welcomed a deep inhale of the AC-chilled air after the stifling heat. Summer break was nearing the halfway mark, and it felt like it was only getting hotter. My reflection in the shiny metal panels glared back at me in a disheveled state. My polo was damp and wrinkled underneath my unseasonable leather jacket, my hair slick with sweat from the dirt bike helmet. I adjusted the shirt and ran my hands through my blond waves while I waited.
The elevator arrived with a ding, and Cohen rushed out as soon as the panels slid open. He collided with me and knocked both of us off-balance. We tangled together, his bookbag spilling. “Sorry,” he mumbled in a thick voice, scrounging to shove everything back inside the bag. Then I noticed his bloodshot eyes, his wet cheeks.
“Are you okay?” I asked, picking up a wadded pride flag.
“No, Zeke,” he choked out while snatching it from me. “I’mobviouslynot okay.”
His snide remark felt too much like how things used to bebetween us. “Seriously,” I began, putting a hand on his shoulder, “what’s up?”
He shook me off with a heavy breath. I almost cussed him out, but the retort died on my tongue. His eyes met mine beneath his glower. I knew that expression, knew how the lurking sadness looked on my own face. “Hey,” I tried again, my voice low. “What happened?”
“It’s over,” he said with a sniffle, gripping at the rainbow material. “They even tore down the flag.”
“What is?”
A beat passed before his facade cracked, and then he was hugging me. The smell of rosemary and tea tree shampoo filled my nose as he put his head on my shoulder. I patted him on the back, unsure of what else to do. “The mayor defunded the mentor program,” he said hoarsely. “They fired Jess and told the volunteers to go home.”
“What the actual fuck?” I asked, pulling away to look at him.
“One of the parents didn’t, didn’t…” He sniffled, wiping his nose on a shirtsleeve. “They said we were teaching their kids to be queer. There was a complaint filed, and now…That damn ordinance has ruined everything.”
I immediately thought of my father, how he’d told me just to keep my head down and I wouldn’t be affected. But Family First wasn’t just about me, and it was affecting more and more people in Beggs—this was proof. “That’ssuchbullshit,” I said. “What can we do?”
“Nothing, Zeke,” he replied despondently. “It’s hopeless.”
Hopeless.I was tired of feeling that way. “Surely there’s something. We could do it ourselves—”
“We can’t!” He cut me off with a shake of his head. “I’ve spent the last hour trying to think of something, but I doubt parents are gonna risk singling out their kids now. This meant so much to me and…Sorry, I don’t mean to be a dick.”
“You have every right to be a dick,” I offered. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” He let out a sigh and leaned against the lobby wall. “I’m so pissed off right now. I keep thinking about how much I’d needed something like this when I was younger. How I’d been confused and felt out of place.”