Why We Fight (At First Sight Book 4) Page 9

  “No,” I said honestly. “I don’t. Labels are good for a lot of people. But some don’t need them. Or even want them.”

  “And that’s you?” Diego asked. He had the barest hint of an accent that curled around each of his words like a caress.

  I shrugged. “Not necessarily. But I just want to make sure that’s clear. I don’t know that it’s cool, demanding to know who people are.”

  Kai laughed, and it wasn’t the nicest of sounds. “Cool, huh?”

  I stared hard at them. “Yeah. Cool. Is that a problem?”

  I thought they were going to push more, but they didn’t. They relaxed, leaning into Diego, who put an arm around their shoulders. Ah. So that answered a question I didn’t even know I had. That was… cute. Baby queers had the tendency to make my heart melt a little. “I’m enby,” Kai said. “Do you know what that is?” It sounded like a challenge.

  “I do,” I said evenly. Nonbinary, like I thought. “And good for you for figuring that out. That’s awesome.”

  Kai’s eyes narrowed. “You mean that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “A lot of people don’t. I say nonbinary, and most people stare at me weird.”

  I knew what that felt like. “That might be because they’ve never heard the term before.”

  “Straight people,” Diego said, rolling his eyes. “They don’t know shit.”

  I frowned. “While I get what you’re saying, there are plenty of straights who at least make an attempt.”

  “It’s Pride Month,” Kai said, which was technically true, though Arizona had to be different and wouldn’t celebrate until September. “I don’t have to care about their attempts.”

  “Right,” I said slowly. “But while we can be proud, we don’t want to cut off potential allies.”

  “Oh Jesus,” Kai moaned. “You’re one of those queers. Unity and blah, blah, blah.”

  “Maybe. But I’d rather be unified than divided.”

  “Come on, Kai,” Diego said, nudging them down the hall. “Let’s go see what Marina brought for breakfast. I’m hungry.”

  Kai looked like they were going to protest but then allowed themself to be pulled away. They glanced at me once over their shoulder before leaving. I watched as Diego dropped his arm from around their shoulder and took Kai’s hand in his.

  “Fucking cute asshole baby queers,” I muttered to no one in particular.

  THE REST of my first day was a whirlwind. I barely had time to breathe, much less think about everything that had happened. Marina found me after Kai and Diego left, telling me she had a bunch of people for me to meet. She looked concerned, asking if I was all right, but I smiled tightly at her and told her I was fine. She nodded, walking past me to knock on Jeremy’s door. I hurried back down the hall.

  The front of Phoenix House had more people in it, at least a dozen, most of them kids. My official title at Phoenix House was peer navigator, and during the interview there’d been pretty words about facilitating conversations about intersectionality and the importance of living authentically. Stephen—former director, Super Gay, and apparently friends with Jeremy—had seemed less interested in these particulars, merely asking me about the courses I’d taken and my plans for the future.

  When I’d gotten the call with the offer, I’d been relieved rather than happy. I’d tried not to put all my eggs in one basket, but the two other social service centers I’d applied with weren’t as… bright as Phoenix House. There was something depressing about the other offices, with their dingy, flickering lights and sterile rooms. It was offensively clinical, and while I understood that’s how things were most likely going to be (social work wasn’t glamorous), I’d practically shouted my acceptance when Marina called me.

  So I was a peer navigator.

  Phoenix House had Jeremy (my life was a comedic tragedy) as its director and Marina as its program manager. There were three case managers, a psychologist, one random dude who handled finances pro bono, and… me. That was it. Seven people to handle the entire queer youth community in Tucson.

  The kids turned to stare at me. The three adults with them—I assumed the case managers—didn’t step forward to introduce themselves.

  Diego leaned over and whispered something in Kai’s ear. They snorted and shook their head.

  I glanced back over my shoulder to see if Marina would save me. Hell, I’d even take Jeremy at that moment.

  But since god apparently had a personal vendetta against me, I was all alone.

  I swallowed thickly as I turned back toward the many pairs of eyes that took me in, looking me up and down. The children were the hope for the future and blah, blah, blah, but they could also be judgmental bitches. I know because I was one not too long ago.

  They continued to stare.

  I cleared my throat and forced a smile on my face. “Hey, I’m Corey. I just started today. I hope to get to know all of you. I ask that you give me a bit of time to remember all your names. And if you ever need anything or have any questions, my door is always open—”

  “How old are you?” a girl near the front asked. She was a skinny thing with brightly colored tattoos on her arms.

  I blinked. “Um, twenty-three.”

  “You don’t look it,” she said, sounding dubious. “You look like you’re fourteen.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Honey, it’s called the perfect skin care regimen taught to me by a drag queen. And genetics. Don’t feel bad that not everyone can look this good all the time.”

  “Whoa,” she breathed. “Hard-core.”

  A couple of the adults looked as if they were covering up laughter as I winced. I had to remember that I wasn’t at home. I had to be authoritative and look like I knew what I was talking about, even though I really didn’t. “Shit. Sorry. That’s not—”

  “You know drag queens?” a larger boy asked me with wide eyes. He reminded me of Paul. “I want to try drag one day, but I don’t know if I’d be any good.”

  “Too many,” I admitted. “My roommate is Helena Handbasket, who works at—”

  The boy gasped dramatically. “You know Helena Handbasket?”

  I squinted at him. “How the hell do you know Helena Handbasket? You better not be trying to sneak into the bar. You’re underage, and Daddy Charlie will kick your ass if you do.”

  “Everyone knows Helena Handbasket,” Diego said, as if I was stupid. “She’s famous.”

  I groaned inwardly. I was never going to tell Sandy about this. He would be more insufferable than he already was. “That’s—”

  “Do you do drag?” another boy asked. He was black, and his head was shaved. He wore expertly applied eyeliner. Better than I could do at his age.

  I struggled to keep up with the conversation. “No. In case you couldn’t tell, I get awkward in front of large groups of people—”

  “What are you?” Kai asked.

  This again. “Does it matter?”

  They shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe we want to know someone working here knows what we’re going through. It’s not too much to ask.”

  One of the case managers—a woman—finally decided to interject. “Hey, maybe we should just let Corey introduce himself without worrying about the little details.” I liked her. She could stay. The other two would face my wrath in this life or the next.

  But Kai wasn’t having any of it. They acted as if they didn’t give a shit, but I could see the exact moment they decided to push. “It’s just a question,” they said, sounding innocent and sweet and filled with lies and evil. “I get crap every day for who I am. I don’t want that to happen here.”

  Oh, this one was going to be trouble. “Do you really think I’d do that?”

  Kai didn’t look put out at all. “I don’t know. I don’t know you, which is why I’m asking. We’re supposed to be inclusive, but queer people can be just as prejudiced as the heteros. I’m nonbinary. I’ve been told for years I need to pick a gender.”

  “I’m bisexual,” Die
go said. “And I’ve had gay people tell me that I’m not really queer because I find women attractive. A girl a long time ago told me she would never date me because she knew I also fucked around with guys.”

  Jesus Christ.

  (Also, I had to stop myself from pointing out that they were kids, and no one should be fucking around with anyone, and that “a long time ago” to them was probably last month. But I kept that to myself.)

  “That… sucks,” I said, eloquent as always. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. If any of you have to go through that. It’s unfair.”

  “So you can see why we’d ask,” Kai said, trapping me neatly.

  I didn’t owe them shit, but I could see where they were coming from. “I’m bigender.”

  It was met with silence.

  A trickle of sweat dropped down the back of my neck.

  Then, “Bigender,” Kai repeated.

  Diego shook his head. “I don’t know what that is. Trans? Is that trans?”

  “It’s like gender-fluid,” the bigger boy said. “Right? You go back and forth.”

  Yay. This was going so well. “Sort of? Gender-fluid is variable and can run a spectrum of gender identity. Bigenderism tends to only focus on two, though it doesn’t have to be just male or female.”

  They didn’t seem impressed. “So you can be a boy or a girl?” the first girl asked.

  I didn’t think now was the time to get into the psychology behind it. “I… guess? It’s a little more complicated than that. I feel both simultaneously, but sometimes one is more dominant than the other, which is why I tend to use specific pronouns when I—”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” Diego asked. “Or a girlfriend?”

  They all seemed very interested in that.

  Oh god, I was going to murder Marina for taking so long. And possibly Jeremy, but that would most likely mean having to touch him in order to rip his face off, and that brought a whole new set of problems. “No, I don’t. I’m single.”

  “Why?” Kai asked.

  I smiled at them. “Because between going to school for the last five years in order to get to be with your bright and shining faces and getting stuck in plots out of eighties movies, I haven’t had time.”

  They had questions. So many questions. I could see it on their faces. But before they could open their mouths and continue, I was saved.

  “This seems like it’s going so well!” a voice said.

  I turned to see Marina and Jeremy standing behind me. Marina was smiling widely. Jeremy looked amused. Oh yeah, I was going to have to get over whatever problem I had, because I would go after him first for letting me flounder.

  “Does it?” I asked. “I think maybe you’re seeing things differently.”

  She laughed. “Nah. It’s best to get in front of the firing squad early so you can get it out of the way. Take the shots, and then we’re golden. They can be insistent, but they’ve got a point. It’s best to know where everyone is coming from. And speaking of! Everyone, this is Jeremy Olsen. He’s our interim director until we hire a replacement. He loves answering questions, so feel free to ask anything you want.”

  Jeremy no longer looked amused.

  This pleased me greatly. “Yes, Jeremy. Why don’t you come right over here and tell us all about yourself? Perhaps a speech from our fearless leader?”

  He scowled at me as he came to stand beside me. “Trouble,” he whispered, bumping my shoulder. “You’re trouble. How did I not know that about you?”

  I shrugged. “We’re not in a classroom anymore. I’m sure you’re going to find out a lot more about me.” I blanched. “Wow, that did not come out like I meant it to. Do me a favor and pretend I didn’t say that.”

  He snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Whatever the hell that meant.

  Jeremy looked out at everyone in the room. I started to take a step back to let him have the floor, but he reached out and grabbed my wrist, squeezing it once before letting go. I stayed right where I was, my brain screaming about desks and porn and for some reason cursing in Spanish.

  “It’s great to meet all of you,” Jeremy said, and he was using his professor voice, the one I remembered very clearly from the days where he paced back and forth in front of a large class, the women (and a good number of the men) sighing dreamily. “And thanks to Marina for the warm welcome. I can’t wait to get to know all of you. While I may be temporary, I promise that I’m going to work as hard as I possibly can. I’m told that you didn’t see a lot of the previous director, but that’s not how I work. I’m more hands-on—”

  Shoot me now.

  “—and plan on spending time out here with all of you rather than holed up back in the office. There’s a lot of work to be done, and I know that we’re all working toward the same goal of educating ourselves and others. If you ever have any questions, my door is always open. If I’m not here, Marina has my phone number and email, so you can reach me that way. Any time of day. If you need help—even just a ride to get you to a safe place—you can call me. Or Marina. Or Corey here.”

  Well, sure. Except I didn’t have a car. I supposed I could show up on my bike.

  “We’re here to help you,” Jeremy said. “And to make sure that this is a great summer for all of us.”

  Kai opened their mouth, but Jeremy beat them to the punch. “And I’m thirty-six, bisexual, and single.” He grinned at them, waggling his eyebrows. “But that last part isn’t anything you should concern yourself with since this isn’t a dating profile.”

  Half the people in the room looked as if they already had a crush on him. He tended to have that effect on people.

  “So!” he said, clapping his hands. “Tell me what’s on your minds?”

  Chapter 5: How to Be Creepy With Fruit—A Tragedy by Corey Ellis

  “NEED A ride?”

  I looked up from the text thread on my phone (Ty, ever the drama queen: I know, but they could have at least told me they were trying to get pregnant!) to see a bright yellow Jeep stop next to the curb in front of the bus stop. The top was off, and Jeremy sat in the driver’s seat, wearing mirror shades and looking like an all-around douchebag.

  “Sorry,” I said evenly, my heart stumbling in my chest. “I don’t accept rides in vehicles that look like they’re owned by a sorority girl who got it from her daddy because he doesn’t understand love and affection and buys expensive things instead.”

  He looked moderately offended. “I bought it used. And the color is called sunshine, thank you very much.”

  I waved dismissively. “That doesn’t help like you think it does. No, I don’t want to go to your rager, Vanessa. Stop asking.”

  He looked over his sunglasses at me, brow furrowed. “But all the boys are going to be there.”

  I laughed. “It’s not a big deal. The bus is going to be here—”

  “Get in,” the woman who sat next to me at the bus stop said. She hadn’t uttered a word while we’d been waiting. I wished she’d kept that up. “He looks loaded and like he’d treat you right. Back in my day when a man stopped and offered something, we took it.” She paused, considering. “After coming to an agreement on prices and making sure our pimp was okay with it.”

  I turned to stare at her slowly. “I’m not a sex worker.”

  She squinted at me. “Are you sure?”

  “What the—yes!”

  She shrugged. “You’ve got the body for it. I’ve never thought about pimping before, but maybe I could start now. Lord knows working at Walgreens isn’t as exciting as it used to be. What do you think? You want to be my first?”

  I stood abruptly, shouldering my backpack as I walked toward the Jeep. Jeremy was laughing as I pointed a finger at him. “The only reason I’m getting in this vehicle is because I think I was about to be conscripted into a job I didn’t want.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Of course.”

  “I get seventy percent!” the woman yelled after me. “And bring him back in two hou
rs or I’ll have to come after you. Hold on a second so I can write down your license plate in case you’re a murderer and I have to go to the police.”

  “You hear that?” I asked mildly as Jeremy started to look panicked. “You can’t murder me.”

  He gunned the engine (what an asshole) and pulled away from the curb.

  IN AGREEING to accept a ride from Jeremy in his ridiculous car to get away from potentially becoming a sex worker to a pimp who worked at Walgreens, I wasn’t necessarily thinking about the fact that I’d be trapped in a car with him. And even if I had, I didn’t live that far away from Phoenix House. The trip should have taken ten or fifteen minutes at the most.

  Except it was just after five, which meant rush hour. And to make things worse, Tucson seemed to be perpetually stuck in a state of everything is under construction at all times everywhere.

  Meaning that only a few short moments after we left the bus stop, we came to backed-up traffic that barely moved.

  In June.

  In Arizona.

  In a yellow Jeep without the top on.

  With a hot guy in mirror shades who was also my boss.

  Fuck. Me.

  He blasted the air-conditioning, which was completely futile seeing as how the Jeep didn’t have a top.

  “I meant to put the top on over the weekend,” he said apologetically. “But I got so busy preparing for today that it slipped my mind. I tend to get a bit scatterbrained. Dad was supposed to remind me, but I can’t remember if he did or not.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, sure I was already melting into the seat. “I mean, yeah, you’re pretty much destroying our environment single-handedly, but that’s a problem for the next generation.”

  He shot me a glare. “Trouble. I should have known that the whole ‘yes, Professor Olsen’ thing was an act.”

  I immediately starting singing another church hymn in my head before my brain could make his words dirty. “I was worried about my grade. Now I don’t have to be.”