Felix Ever After(62)
“Are you crying?”
I don’t say anything. I’m crying so hard I can barely breathe.
“Don’t cry for me. Seriously, don’t. My dad’s horrible, and yeah, it hurt—but it was for the best. I hate the commute, but my granddad’s great. Really. I’m not just saying that. I’m happy. All right?”
I nod. Force myself to choke out the words. “All right.”
We’re silent for a while. Maybe Declan’s just waiting for me to pull myself together, I don’t know. A few minutes pass before I stop crying, before I can breathe again. My voice is stuffed up. “Is that why you broke up with Ezra?” I ask.
Declan must be shuffling through something on the other end. I hear papers. “I mean—yeah, it really fucked me up, and I guess it made me—you know, need some space to figure myself out in my new life, but it wasn’t the whole reason.” He sighs. “I wasn’t lying before. I could tell Ezra wasn’t as into me as I was into him.”
I frown, shaking my head. This isn’t the first time Declan’s said Ezra wasn’t into him. “What made you think that?”
“Because I’m pretty sure he’s in love with his best friend,” Declan tells me. “That guy, Felix.”
Eighteen
SATURDAY NIGHT, EZRA TEXTS ME, BEGGING ME TO HANG out.
I’m finally over this effing cold and I want to celebrate.
As soon as his name pops up in my phone, all I can hear is Declan’s voice. I’m pretty sure he’s in love with his best friend. That guy, Felix.
At first, I’d thought Declan was joking. That’s what I said to him. “You’re joking, right?”
“No,” he said. “No, I’m not joking. You ever watch the way Ezra looks at him? Or the way he follows Felix around like a lost puppy?”
I’d wanted to correct him. Ezra doesn’t follow me like a lost puppy—it’s the other way around. Ezra’s the only friend I really have at St. Cat’s, while everyone flocks around him like he’s the sun itself. I caught myself before I started arguing, though. I’m pretty sure Declan would’ve been able to immediately guess who I am if I did.
Declan kept going. “We all started hanging out at the same time, and the longer we hung out, the more Ezra fell for Felix. Simple as that.”
I stare at the text Ezra sent. There’s no way Declan’s right. Ezra isn’t exactly shy about who he wants or who he likes. Case study number two: Austin. Ezra’s been all over the guy since his party. Why would he be with Austin if he’s in love with me? He would’ve said something. Declan just misread things, or wasn’t feeling the relationship anymore and wanted a reason to break up with Ez.
These are all the things I tell myself, anyway. But there’s a voice in the back of my head: What if Declan’s right? What if Ezra’s in love with me?
I type on my phone, asking Ezra if I should meet him at his apartment, but he tells me no—he wants me to meet him at Stonewall.
I hold in a groan. Stonewall Inn? Really? It’s ten days into Pride month, so it’s going to be packed. A few years ago, I was totally obsessed with the place. It’s where the riots began with trans women of color like Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera—where the marches started. But after visiting the Inn a few times, I quickly learned I’m not exactly the partying type. The crowds, the blasting music, the sticky floors, the white straight tourist girls “accidentally” elbowing me because they think I’m in their way for, you know, existing, the sketchier older guys offering to buy me drinks (which, okay, I’ve definitely taken, who would turn down a free beer?) . . . It’s not exactly my idea of fun.
But Ezra loves anything and everything to do with Pride month, and Stonewall is a part of that. By the time I leave my dad’s place and get to Christopher Street, there’s a line outside with a group of girls in front of me, laughing and talking excitedly. The line moves quickly, and the brawny, bald bouncer in a tutu and Mardi Gras beads takes my fake ID and stamps my wrist without even looking at my face. Inside, the disco spotlights swirl, and a drag queen sings Mariah Carey on a small stage, shirtless boys covered in glitter screaming along to the words. The floor is so packed I have to squeeze in between bodies to push my way through, past the bar and up the stairs.
On the second floor, the lights are low and music blasts. The crowd jumps up and down to a Journey song. A spotlight shines, and I see him—Ezra is right in the middle of it all, shouting the words, hair everywhere, shirt gone, grin split across his face. He may or may not be a little intoxicated.
He’s in love with his best friend. That guy, Felix.
I hope to see Austin, just to prove Declan wrong, but he’s nowhere to be found. I push through the crowd of jumping bodies and pull on Ezra’s elbow. He spins to me, eyes wide, pupils filling his irises. He yells my name, though I can barely hear it over the music, and grabs my hands to dance with me, but I hate dancing—hate the feeling of everyone watching, of feeling so awkward, unable to just let go. Ez wobbles and almost falls, leaning on me—he smells like mint and wine. It’s only eleven. How is he already so drunk?
“Do you want water?” I yell to him.
Ezra nods, so I start pushing my way to the bar. I’m surprised when a hand grabs mine, and I see he’s decided to follow.