“What time are you off?” he asks, surprising the fuck out of me, and I bite my lower lip.
“Two,” I answer but quickly follow it up before his face falls any farther. “But come with me. Please.” He turns to Sarra who’s already nodding and mouthing something I don’t quite catch. “She can follow.”
Her eyes light up as Lennix’s roll and I find myself chuckling as I entwine my fingers with his to tug him along.
“Don’t worry,” I shout over the noise that folds in around us. “She’ll fit in just fine.”
CHAPTER 13: LENNIX
“Sooooo,” Sarra drawls as she inspects her nails like she didn’t just drag them down the chalk board of my mind to break me out of the stupor I’ve been in.
Marlo—or Merlot as they know him here—has left the two of us in the changing room where he gets ready, sitting at his station while he does another routine on the stage. Longer this time, since he cut the last one short.
“So?” I ask, an uneasy feeling returning to my gut.
I know she deserves answers to this unexpected turn of the night, and I deserve to say them, but I keep finding myself with a tongue that feels too thick.
“Do you have a label or are you just feeling things out?”
Sucking in a deep breath that’s filled with the faint scent of Marlo andman, I let it steel my resolve.
Because this isn’t new. There is no feeling it out. The questions I had have long since ceased.
“I’m … I’m attracted to men.”
The unexpected delight squealing from my best friend has my gaze snapping to her from the spot I was burning into the floor.
My heart is in my throat, and my palms are damp, but she’s grinning and launching into my chest to hug me.
A warmth spreads in my chest, loosening things I didn’t know I was holding taut, and I hug her back with a burning in my eyes.
“I’m so happy for you,” she sobs into my neck, squeezing me harder.
“I-I haven’t told anyone else.”
“That’s okay!” She leans back enough to cross a finger over her heart. “Best friend’s oath.”
The relief that floods me makes my breath stutter and I nod. “Thank you.”
Sarra returns the nod with one of her own and settles her ass back into the extra chair Marlo brought over for us before he went back out. Though, she seems a little stiff.
I push up my glasses.
“What is it?” I ask her.
“Okay, I … have a confession,” she says, hands wringing in her lap. My heart clenches at what it could be but … Sarra is my best friend. I’ve told her everything else—and I assumed the same on her end considering I know her hair wash days, and where she’s at in her cycle—but she seems nervous. Which is odd for her because she’s always so centered. Certain. Confident.
“Sarra.”
She takes a deep breath and leans toward me, hand reaching the short distance between us to mine. “You aren’t the only queer one.”
My brows shoot up.
“You?” I ask a little too high pitched and clear my throat.
“Yeah,” she answers softly with a nod. “I’ve … been here before.”
An odd sense of relief at her acceptance mixes with hurt swirling inside my chest that she didn’t feel safe telling me until now.
