Page 78 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

We’ve done all we can.I hoped she was right. We had shown up instead of staying quiet, spoken up for our QSA—for everyone in this town. No matter what that citation declared, I knew what we’d done this summer was good.But is it enough?

“I’m waiting,” Sawyer added, her hand still on her chest.

Mirroring her, I brought my hand up. “I titty promise to not let political fuckwads keep me from living my life,” I vowed, hoping it was an oath I could keep. At least for tonight.

The running time for the old 2013 movieThe Great Gatsbywas nearly two and a half hours. Every minute was spent wanting to kiss Cohen right there on the blanket. We’d started off holding hands, electricity zapping between our fingers. His head had found a place on my shoulder by the time the famous green light flashed in the closing scene. Sawyer’s pep talk had calmed me down, settled my nerves enough to be bold.

Smoothly, I tilted his face up toward mine. He broke thekiss after a moment, leaning back to say, “I didn’t think it was that romantic of a movie.”

“I was too distracted to notice,” I admitted with a grin. His reactions to the movie had captured my attention. I couldn’t stop myself from watching him get lost in the story. Every time he smiled or laughed or widened his eyes in awe kept me here with him, not drifting into worry over tomorrow.

“Ah, yes. I don’t blame you,” he said through a laugh. “The themes of the American dream and social class, not to mention the irony of the Roaring Twenties and this summer—”

I kissed him again, and our tongues brushed ever so slightly as someone groaned beside us. He smiled against my lips before pulling back. Kennedy and Sawyer were wearing matching unamused expressions from the blanket next to us.

“I stand by my assertion,” Kennedy began, digging in her cheer tote. “This is so much worse.”

“So. Much. Worse,” Sawyer agreed, but she smiled at me like she had on the video chat. “Hurry up with those Takis before I die from this sweetness overload.”

“But I’m glad you twofinallygot your shit together,” Kennedy added. She set aside cans of leftover spray paint from the rally prep as she kept searching. Finally, much to Sawyer’s delight, she pulled out a bag of the Fuego flavored chips like a trophy. “It’s about time you went on a date anyway.”

Cohen choked, a gurgled cough of embarrassment. “We’re not…I didn’t tell her that, Zeke. Oh my god—”

“It’s okay,” I interrupted his spiral. “Besides, I’d like that.”

“For this to be a date?”

His whispered question was nearly lost in the sounds of people leaving the library’s lawn, the car doors slamming, thecicadas chirping. Uncertainty lined his lips in a restrained smile. Almost as though he was afraid if he gave into it, that I’d take it back. That I’d pull a Mason and change my mind because of something inconsequential.

“Yes,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Me too,” he replied just the same way.

Sawyer snorted around the crunch of chips. “To think all it took for these two to stop fighting was political upheaval,” she said, pointing at us with a flaming-red-stained finger.

“What would y’all have done if Pride Day hadn’t been canceled?” Kennedy teased, grabbing Cohen’s camera from the blanket.

“Stooop,” Cohen said as a bright flash went off. Then he giggled as Kennedy snapped another picture of us. I had never heard him laugh like that before. It was soft, sweet even, and made my stomach flutter.

“This is too cute,” Kennedy said, looking at the viewfinder. “You have to post it to Insta.”

Cohen sat upright but kept leaning against me. “And to answer your question,” he directed at Kennedy, “I think Zeke would probably still be himself…ya know, a Zasshole.”

“Hey,” I said, shoving him playfully, and he winked at me.

“What’s worse than the word ‘worse’?” Sawyer muttered to Kennedy. “Because this is very muchthat.”

They laughed, throwing digs at each other, but what he’d said about me being myself made me think of Sawyer’s promise.It’s not stupid to be an actual person.Her words reverberated through me as I glanced over my shoulder. Across the parking lot, two blocks down, I could see the billboard atop Jones Hardware. The memory of being up there and panicking senta wave of doubt crashing against me again. But it receded as I held on to the fact that I wasn’t alone. We were together, being ourselves despite the hate disguised by the haloed glow of Beggs.

“I think we’d still be here even if it hadn’t been canceled,” I said, tearing my attention away from the billboard. “Still fighting the never-ending bullshit.”

It was silent for a moment as they stared at me, and then Sawyer nodded as she understood what I meant. “We’d still have to fight anti–LGBTQ-plus bullshit,” she said.

“I’d still be nervous about being fully out in this crap town,” Kennedy added.

Cohen licked his bottom lip, catching my eye. “I would still be so preoccupied with planning my future that summer would have passed by without me knowing.” He gestured between us. “Without knowing what could be.”

I reached out and found his hand, a new habit that I didn’t want to break. “And I guess I’d still be fighting my father to be someone else.”

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