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Her grey eyes snap up as she grabs his arm excitedly. “Oh my god. That's it. Christian, you and Arya are geniuses.”

He tilts his head. “No shit?”

“Yeah!” A gorgeous grin pulls at her mouth, hitting me right in the gut—just like it does every time she aims it at someone who isn’t me. “Tomorrow is our last show in Ohio, and since Pride month just started… I know exactly what we're going to do.”

I don’t stick around to hear the idea, turning to make my way back toward the goldfish with my heart in my throat.

The second I reach the bench near the restrooms where I left him—uh, it—my chest eases just a little.

The fish is still there, swimming dizzy circles in its plastic universe, going nowhere fast. I'm not a complete fuck up.

“Hey, buddy,” I breathe, crouching down to stare into the water. “You still alive?”

The fish flutters a fin like it's reaching for help, but it doesn’t die. It just... exists pointlessly.

For some reason, that's enough to split my heart in half. I grab the bag, cradling it carefully to my chest.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

Me, too.

Chapter

Sixteen

Logan

“Someone is going to crash and die, I swear.”

I say it mostly to myself, but Salem snorts beside me as she lifts her camera, lens trained on the trio of maniacs revving a dirt bike at the bottom of the ramp.

That’s right: One dirt bike, three guys.

Taylor’s in front, hands on the throttle. Christian is in the middle with his arms around Tay’s waist and Devon is crouched behind him like he’s auditioning for Jackass. All three of them wear Pride flags as capes, their helmets covered in dozens of rainbow stickers. This had been Salem’s solution to that jerk-off homophobe yesterday.

“This is such a bad idea,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. “Seriously, someone is going to get hurt.”

Arya giggles, reaching around Salem to nudge my arm. “Oh, ye of little faith, Logster.”

“They’ll be fine,” Huck says, though his eyes are trained on his boyfriend and his leg bounces a million miles a minute. “...I hope.”

Jesus Christ.

The engine revs loud enough to rattle the aluminum bleachers we’re sitting on, and I swear my soul momentarily leaves my body.

“Here we go,” Salem murmurs, finger hovering over the shutter button.

The bike peels out, spraying dirt in every direction. The three of them rocket toward the ramp, launching into the air at full speed.

BOOM.

Fireworks crackle across the sky, bursts of color lighting up the dark night. Cannons fire, showering the crowd with glittering rainbow confetti, catching the floodlights like stars. Taylor pulls upward on his handlebars, tilting the bike backward. They spin in mid-air once.

Twice.

Three times.

The whole stadium erupts. My stomach drops into my fucking ass as Huck and I grab onto each other for support. They hit the ground hard, tires screeching, balance teetering for a fraction of a second before Tay corrects. The moment they stabilize, the crowd goes wild, so loud I nearly cover my ears. My hand instinctively goes to my chest like I’m having a heart attack. “Nope. I’m out. I can’t watch that again. Holy shit.”