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Picking up my barely eaten burger, I take a big bite, forcing it down, even if eating is the last thing I want to be doing right now.
A bell rings behind me, followed by a clamor of chatter as another group enters the diner. At Phoebe’s insistence, after splitting up from the others, the three of us hit up Silk Street for a late night dinner—even though we ate at the festival just a couple of hours ago. Really, she just didn’t want to go back to Will’s parents’ house just yet.
I know the feeling.
If there’s one thing my sister and I have in common, it’s our fear of missing out. FOMO, as she likes to call it. That heavy, borderline unbearable feeling that comes with realizing and accepting there’s a whole other path laid out, one you’ll never get to see. Melodramatic? Maybe. But it is what it is. If you get it, you get it.
And knowing the others are at some gay club, dancing and drinking…
My knee bobs under the table.
Okay, so they’re notalldrinking.
Though knowing Will, he’s probably not either out of respect for Waylon. If anything, those two tagged along to keep an eye on Ivy and Jeremy, who have been drinking on and off since the parade ended.
And apparently rolling on Molly, something Ivy let slip back at the park.
As if summoned, a familiar pair of amber eyes flashes across my mind’s eye, glazed, pupils expanded. Lips curved up in a dazed smile he flashed my way through the crowd. Cheeks flushed as he rolled his body to the music.
And here I thought he was just genuinely happy…
The memory from earlier suddenly darkens, turning into something else. Something manufactured.
I imagine him now. In the club.
It’s all dark with packed bodies and pulsing lights. And he’s no longer dancing and waving his hands to live music, his silhouette blurred by sunlight, friends on either side of him.
But grinding his near-naked body against strange men with wandering hands, who want one thing and one thing only.
The bite of burger I was chewing turns to sand, and I force a hard swallow before reaching for my water.
He can handle himself.
Fuck, how many times have I said that over the years? How many times did I stand up for him to Izzy—insist she give him more credit, when she got all smothering and worried—and he has no idea.
But she’s not here…
Someone has to protect him.
A new voice pipes up.Is that what we’re going with?
I set my burger down, rattling the plate, and take another gulp of my water, washing down the bile threatening to rise.
“You okay?” Shawn asks just loud enough to be heard over the din of the crowded diner.
Nope, going out of my mind. But what else is new?
But all I say is, “Yep.”
I can feel them both watching me, but I pretend I don’t notice, turning to look out the window overlooking our booth instead.
It’s almost completely dark outside now, and a quick tap and glance at my phone lying face-up on the table shows it’s pushing nine.
I don’t miss the fact I have no new messages waiting for me.
I lock it and shove it off to the side, feeling my knee start to bob again under the table.
The parade ended hours ago, and we spent the rest of the day at the Pride festival going on at Cret Park, eating and hanging out and listening to live music until night started falling and we parted ways. Jeremy, Ivy, Will, and Waylon heading off to the Gayborhood to check out some nightclub.
