Chapter 2 #2
I’m better off in Chicago than trapped in Solberg.
Matt’s happier with Allie. She’s happy with him; the small town that stifled me provides solace for her.
She never could have built a life with us, because Matt never wanted an “us” that was all three of us, and Allie never wanted me.
I get it. I have other feelings besides acceptance and compersion.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for them. They’re still my best friends.
Most importantly, Matt and Allie think I’m happy. That I’m living my best life, thriving in the big city, and spreading my gay little wings. All of the things Matt said I needed to do when he broke up with me. Because that’s what I’ve told them.
Yeah, I’m going on dates. Yeah, I’m seeing someone, but I’m not sure if it’s going to work out yet, so I don’t want to share too much.
Yeah, I have a ton of friends, we go to drag brunch all the time!
Yeah, my apartment is great, too bad it’s so small, otherwise I’d invite you to visit.
Yeah, classes are amazing! Yeah, I’m confident I’m going to pass the bar on the first try.
But I’m not doing any of those things, unless this pity invite to drag brunch counts as having friends.
No, I’m having an existential crisis and chugging a mimosa, sitting across from a dickhead currently flicking me off.
Because, for the second time in five minutes, I’m glaring at zim while chugging a mimosa.
Dream swats Eris’s hand away. “Bitch, be nice. Blake is obviously going through something.”
“Can they go through something without making that stank-ass face at me?” Eris flicks me off with zis other hand, holding it out so Dream can’t reach.
“Sorry.” I screw my eyes shut because that’s easier than smiling at zim.
Eris has the audacity to laugh. Zis laugh gets on my nerves, too. It’s a high-pitched cackle, which is weird considering how deep and gravelly zis voice is.
“Come on, Blake, spill,” Adrienne teases, rubbing my shoulder. “If you don’t tell us here, I’m going to ask you before class, and you’ll have uptight law students eavesdropping on your drama, instead of tipsy, supportive queers.”
I groan. “My best friends are getting married. To each other.”
“We already knew that. You told us months ago,” says Kelsey. “One of them is your ex you were with for eight years. They got together suspiciously quick, didn’t even warn you that they were getting engaged before texting it to your group chat, and then they didn’t invite you.”
Kelsey creeps me out a little. I don’t know anything about her, not even her last name. I suppose that’s on me for not being the best listener in group conversations. It all blends together until someone speaks to me directly.
I sigh, knowing that between Dream and Kelsey, they’re going to get the explanation out of me anyway, so I’ll stick to the facts; they can jump to conclusions about any too-vulnerable feelings.
“Turns out they meant to invite me, but the maid of honor ‘lost’ my invite, and they just found out, and they were really apologetic and hope I still come.”
“Why not go, then?” Dream asks, like the extrovert she is. “Like yeah, you’re the ex and shit, but like, you’re queer. We do exes differently.”
“They’re all straight, though,” Adrienne reminds her. “The bride and groom might be Blake’s friend, but for everyone else at the wedding, exes don’t get invites. They’ll be an outsider amongst the people who are basically their ex-future in-laws.”
“Gross,” Eris and I say together, scowling at each other.
“I didn’t want them to be my future in-laws,” I explain. “That’s part of the awkwardness with going. They wanted a daughter-in-law who was easy to push around.”
“Are you not easy to push around?” Eris asks skeptically. “You’re a doormat.”
“Thanks, Eris.” I shake my head, hating how Eris not only sees the parts of me I don’t want to acknowledge, but announces them for everyone to hear.
“But I do have a spine, and that spine didn’t fit back in the closet once I came out.
So no, I’m not as easy to push around as Matt’s parents wanted.
Namely, I wouldn’t be a daughter-in-law, and I never let them forget that. ”
Correcting the Jacobsons when they misgendered me was easier than my own parents.
Probably because I want my parents to like me, and that was a lost cause with the Jacobsons.
They don’t even like Matt, and he’s their son.
But they like Allie, and that says a lot about Allie’s lack of spine.
God, everyone is probably walking all over her.
No wonder the invites were pink. She hates pink.
“Again, so why not go?” Dream asks. “You don’t need to make nice with his parents. You have friends to hang out with.”
I don’t, but I don’t want to admit that. “Everyone I used to be friends with is married or engaged, and I’d be the only queer person and the only single person.” I sigh, adding in a mutter, “And I kinda hinted I was seeing someone, and they want me to bring them as a plus-one.”
“What?” Kelsey asks. “You got quiet.”
“They lied about how single they are, and now everyone expects them to show up to the wedding with a hot piece of ass,” Eris supplies.
I glare at zim, but ze only smirks.
“Oh my god,” Kelsey squeals. “This is amazing! You should totally hire an actor off Craigslist to play your fake lover, and see how far you can take it before they figure out you’re not actually together.”
The table turns to look at her with shared incredulity.
“Are you trying to get them killed?” Adrienne asks. “Blake, do not do that.”
“Wasn’t gonna,” I deadpan. “Sounds expensive.”
Eris snorts.
“Why did you lie?” Dream asks.
I chug another mimosa, hoping the conversation will shift to literally anything or anyone else. But no, they’re all enraptured by my misfortune. Even Eris, who chugs zis own mimosa while meeting my glare this time. I muffle a belch before answering, “Because I wanted them to think I was happy.”
“Can you not be happy and single? You’re in law school!” Adrienne scoffs. “I do not envy anyone trying to date in grad school. Thank goodness I’m already married.” She and Dream exchange a flirty look.
“Yeah, of course.” I could be happy being single, in theory. But I refuse to admit that I’m not happy in front of the only friends I have. “But I had to be happy enough so Matt could allow himself to be happy too. And that meant acting like I’d moved on, so he could move on.”
“To Allie,” Kelsey says.
I nod. I knew it was coming. Hell, I wanted it to happen.
I just didn’t expect it to happen so quick.
When I was still in the picture, Matt and Allie platonically loved each other something fierce, and the lines between friendship and love for Matt have always been thin.
Allie trusted Matt to have her back, since she so rarely had her own.
It was inevitable, and I wanted them to—
“I’ll do it,” comes that less-grating-than-it-should-be voice from across the table.
I frown at Eris. “Do what?”
“Be your fake hot piece of ass for the wedding,” ze says, like it’s not the most ridiculous idea that has ever left zis mouth.
My face steels into an impassive half smile. I do not want to offend Eris. But no one would ever believe that I’d be into zim. “Uh…I don’t think that’ll work.”
“Why not? I know I’m way cooler than you, but you’re not that bad-looking,” ze says.
I can’t tell if ze’s teasing, but no one laughs.
Dream smacks zim. “Be nice, fuckface!”
So Eris wasn’t teasing. Great. Good to know I’m not just a nerd, I’m an ugly nerd.
“I was just kidding, chill out!” Eris rubs zis arm. “Yeah, Blake’s all right or whatever, if you’re into that deer in the headlights look. I just thought it’d be fun to crash a wedding and fuck with a bunch of uptight white people. I assume everyone’s white, right?” ze asks me.
I nod. “Pretty much.”
“And like, not KKK white, or call-ICE-even-though-I’m-from-Texas white, right?” Eris asks, that marred eyebrow raised into a point. “That would make this plan significantly less fun.”
“No!” I pause, mentally running through the members of Allie’s extended family. “Yeah, no. There’s some religious people, but they usually ignore my existence.”
“Sweet. Let’s fucking go, bro!” Eris extends zis fist expectantly across the table.
“You’re just not…” Staring blankly at the “odio” tattooed across zis knuckles, I gape, searching for an explanation that won’t make me sound like a horrible person.
But no, as far as Eris is concerned, I’m an ugly nerd and an asshole; I might as well embrace it.
If I can be myself around anyone, it’s Eris.
“You’re not exactly who I’d bring home to convince people that I’m doing okay. ”
Eris drops zis fist, and for a split second, I hate that I’ve disappointed zim. But Eris just claps, letting out that high-pitched cackle. “Exactly. We can confuse them!”
I blink, confused myself.
“This is your chance to fuck with the uptight people who want you to be small and quiet. Bringing home a short, hairy, chubby genderfuck weirdo and acting like you traded up from your golden boy next door is going to fuck with their minds, dude! And if your best friends are really your friends, they’ll be happy you’re happy, so don’t worry about them.
” Eris gestures for my phone. “Let me give you my number. Text me the deets, and you can have some fun lying to the people you let walk all over you.”
“I don’t let them walk all over me.” For some reason I can’t explain beyond sheer desperation, I pass zim my phone.
Eris raises zis eyebrow with the scar, stark white against zis tan skin and the dark brown of zis thick brows. “You barely put up a fight against me just now, and you don’t even like me.”
A tiny intake of breath comes from the otherwise silent Stella, a sign that they have gathered their courage. We all turn to them, waiting. I’m relieved I don’t have to pretend to like Eris for the sake of propriety.
“Happiness isn’t found in other people,” Stella says, their thin voice wavering. Their deep brown eyes are thoughtful as they look at me and Eris in turn. “It’s created by appreciating the beauty in front of you.”
For some reason, everyone but Eris and I laugh. Eris chucks a crumpled-up napkin at Stella, who bats it away, still wearing a shy smile. I roll my eyes. Honestly, that’s too far even for Eris, made especially rude considering how rarely Stella talks.
But before I can call zim out on zis bullshit, the show starts. The speakers blasting “We Found Love” by Rihanna drowns out anything else the sage Stella might have mustered.