Mrs. Beckett mouthed, “Thank you,” to me.
Several moments passed in silence. Miles’s heavy breathing calmed. He stared at the ground, looking more drained than I had ever seen anyone else.
Mr. Beckett shared a look with his wife, then stood up. “C’mon, buddy. Let’s get you to bed.”
We followed his lead. He draped an arm around his son and led him into the house.
Mrs. Beckett hugged me and said, “We’ll talk more later. But go find him. And text me when you do, okay?”
“Will do, Mrs. Beckett.”
She let go, smiled, and placed a hand on my cheek. “I meant it earlier. We’re so proud of you, Finn.”
My throat closed, causing the “Thank you” to come out like a croak, and my eyes to blur with tears.
She smiled again, nodded, and walked inside.
Lena looked at me, tears wet on her cheek and more threatening to fall. She said, “I’m so sorry for earlier. But—”
I bent down and hugged her. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I was a dick at the church.”
When I let her go, she hit me. “Ow! That hurt!”
She smiled through sniffles. “I’m really proud of you, too. That was… I can’t even, Finn. Just amazing. Seriously. And I think you kinda got through to him. His whole vibe changed after you came out.”
“I can’t believe I did that.” I held out my hand and watched it tremble. “I’m still freaking out.”
“I know, that’s why I hit you.”
“Thanks.” I smiled at her. “Do you think they’re mad? That was… what the fuck was I thinking?
“No, of course not! They love you, Finn. And you loving Ryder is great news, no matter what.” She smiled. “Now, go find him. But text me before you text my mom. I need to apologize to him and give him the heads up.”
I smiled again. “Will do.”
Chapter Twenty Three
Ryder
My phone died about five minutes after I left the cafe. Waiting a few hours, then finding my way to The Phoenix in the East Village without it, was less than fun. At least it was nice out, and Washington Square Park was a great place to burn some time people-watching.
The Phoenix’s facade was a brick wall painted fire engine red. It looked more like a divey college bar than a place that would have a drag queen happy hour. Inside was dark, with cluttered walls, random shit behind the bar, a pool table, and scattered tables and chairs.
I didn’t know it was five minutes to four until I walked in. Two drag queens and the bartender looked at me as I entered, like I was in an old-timey salon from a Bugs Bunny sketch.
“We don’t open for five more minutes, hun,” one queen said.
“What’s five minutes? If he orders a drink right now and tops… sorry, I meantipswell, I’m sure that’s okay,” the other queen said to the first.
The bartender didn’t mind, and I ordered a beer. I took a sip once I had it. What the fuck was I doing there? Looking for a distraction? I guess, but I couldn’t get drunk with the two-hour ride home ahead of me. Fuck, man. How did I let everything get so goddamn messy?
“RYDER!!!!”
I turned around just in time to see Rickie hurtling towards me. I stood up and took the brunt of her hug full force. For such a small woman, she packed a lot of strength.
“OH MY GOD!! I’m so glad you DM’d me!” Rickie said, choking me with her shoulder.
“Thanks for meeting up,” I said once she released me.
