Page 57 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

“Yeah, I know.” I cut her off. “Be safe and—”

“Well, that too,” she inserted, her mouth close to the speaker, “but if anything happens while you’re doing the membership drive, don’t get sucked in. Just walk away.”

“I promise.”

A beat passed as she cleared her throat. “I’m holding you to that,” she threatened. I could practically see her facial expression, eyes narrowed and chin jutted.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll text you when I’m heading home tomorrow. Have a good night, and I love you, hun.”

“Have fun tonight. Love you too.”

We ended the call, and I strolled out of the dinette with a skip in my step.Tonight will be better than good,I assured myself.It’ll be great, incredible even.I needed to remember how it felt to be free, not terrified like I’d been at the rally.

Music thumped in the garage, the bass shaking the mirror ball. The spinning green reflections danced around the mass of bodies that’d packed inside. There were too many people to count, all of them bouncing in waves as Lady Gaga blasted from the speakers. But Cohen had bailed instead of showing up.

What a dick,I thought, shoving my anger back.Just like Sawyer and Kennedy. I don’t need his help anyway.

Sweat drenched my “Exterminate Hate” shirt, my hair dripping as I threw my head back. I’d spent the last two hours dancing nonstop.Thiswas exactly what I needed—to not think of the mob of hate in the town square and the election. There weren’t any vulgar looks or expectations here. So I screamed along to the track as someone draped an arm around my shoulder.

Damian Jones leaned on me. He was laughing and swaying to the beat of the music. Our eyes met, both of us smiling.Could he be bedmas_22?I wondered, eyeing his sweaty shirt stuck to his broad chest.Maybe he isn’t straight—

“You’re killing it, Fastball!” he yelled over the music, leaning in close.

“Thanks for coming,” I tried to say, but my voice was lost in the crowd. He wagged his brows at me and then bent down, his arm sliding down to wrap around my waist. The next thing I knew, he was hoisting me up on his shoulder as the crowd raged. A laugh escaped me as he paraded me around. It was just like when we’d won a baseball game, him chanting my name and me unable to stop grinning.

Because tonight really felt like a win.

I could see the entirety of Roaring Mechanics from this vantage point. From the businesses tabling in the back to the mob gathering under the mirror ball, the party was in full swing. It felt like we were all in a bubble of lightheartedness. Never had I ever felt so sure of myself either. That was one thing I’d learned from these speakeasies. That first night Mason had told me no one would be here if it weren’t for me, and looking around only reminded me of that. To see people I knew in real life—including my new friends Owen, Jess, and Bronwen—all together felt like the song’s bass rattling through me. Every part of my body was alive from the music and high fives and cheers as Damian twirled me around.

My vision got lost in a blur of twinkling lights before focusing on someone pushing through the crowd.Cohen?His face was splotchy, eyes wild as he made his way to me. I tapped Damian’sverymuscular shoulder to set me down.

“You didn’t dick out on me!” I yelled at Cohen as he neared.

His mouth moved, gaze shooting back to the entrance, but I only caught every other word. “Tried to text…called…even Instagram…your phone…”

“Sorry, I turned it off,” I shouted as the last notes of the song faded. “Sawyer was blowing it up, but I’m glad you actually came!”

“Shut up and listen, Zeke,” Cohen said, pulling me closer to him. “Mayor Buchananknows.”

“Yeah, he mentioned it at the rally—”

“No!” Cohen shook his head and placed his hands on both of my shoulders. “He knows the speakeasy isheretonight.”

It took a moment for his emphasis to register, and I blinked as my brain caught up. “What do you mean?” I asked, the levitydraining from my system. All around us the crowd continued dancing as a new song came on. We stayed still, both of us locked in a stare. “How do you know?”

He brought his mouth right up to my ear, his breath hot. “Someone tipped off Carmen at the campaign meeting, and I tried warning you.” He leaned back to look me in the eyes. “Zeke, you have to listen. He’s coming to break this up tonight. He’s gonna use it to his advantage to rally voters ahead of the election.”

My heart thudded as I glanced around the garage, the harsh reality setting in. Breaking up an illegal Pride event would only strengthen what he’d said about the rec center. The speakeasy would give him the perfect ammunition to continue his hate-filled campaign.

“Cohen!” I yelled in terror. “I have to shut this down immediately!”

“No shit, that’s why I’m here.” He spared a soft smile and then motioned around us. “We have to go. Now.”

I nodded once and spun on my heels. He followed closely as I pushed through the crowd, elbowing my way to the back wall. My laptop was connected to the sound system, just under the painting of Zelda. She smiled down at me mischievously as I franticly typed in my password. It was as though she knew what was happening, the rush of being raided by cops like the actual speakeasies of the 1920s.

The music stopped, and the wave of dancing bodies slowed to a standstill. Heads began turning in search of what had happened. Then I heard it: the sound of sirens in the distance—getting closer. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I sputtered, waving my arms.“YOU HAVE TO LEAVE! NOW! THE MAYOR IS COMING TO SHUT US DOWN!”

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