This party was a reminder of that too, that there’s a bigger community of queer people and allies at this school than just the people who come to Queer Alliance. I’ve been focused on making sure my ideas get heard so I can win the reelection, but Forrest’s ideas are good for the club too. And it might not have happened if I’d kept trying to shut him down.
“So, I was thinking,” Forrest says as he rejoins me at the table. “It might be easier to plan our meet-ups if we exchange numbers.”
I scan the floor, looking for any escaped Skittles. The thought of texting Forrest, of all people, makes my brain short-circuit a little. It’s just so ...weird. His request makes sense, though; it would be easier to just text him than lookfor him at school. And I want to keep up our collaboration. Yeah, I want to win the reelection, but more than that, I want the club to succeed.
“I promise I won’t spam you,” he continues. “Scheduling purposes only.”
I scoop up an orange Skittle from where it lodged under a nearby bookcase. “OK.”
“Really?”
I turn and he’s looking at me, head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised. “I can change my mind and say no, if you prefer,” I say dryly.
“No, no! Here, just a second,” he says, searching his pockets for his phone. I tell him my number, and a moment later my own pocket buzzes. I pull my phone out, and there it is: an unknown number, and a single text:
Hey it’s Forrest.
I hope I don’t regret this.
Anna’s house that Saturday is a halloween fever dream. Huge fake spiders adorn the windows, porch, and trees on her front walkway, synthetic webs stretching everywhere, light-up plastic jack-o’-lanterns hanging from branches, and the crowning touch, an animatronic witch sitting on the porch swing who cackles when you get close to her. You’d think after all these years, I’d be used to it, but she still startles me when I step up to the front door.
It swings open before I can knock. “Welcome to our haunted mansion,” Anna intones, and gives me a horrormovie grin.
I come inside and kick my shoes off in the hallway. “Your dad really went all out this year.”
“He did. He’s already got his costume locked down too.”
“Which Hollywood monster is it this time?”
“Freddy Krueger.” She leads me into the kitchen, a large room with honey-colored wooden cabinets anda freestanding island, and opens the fridge. “The originalNightmare on Elm Streetversion, of course.”
“Of course.” I set my backpack down on the island and slide into one of the chairs. Jayden and Makayla are joining us for a movie night after my study session with Anna, and I’m looking forward to it. Between homework and extracurriculars—Makayla has guitar lessons, Jayden’s playing volleyball—and the lead-up to the Coming Out Day party, we haven’t all hung out as a group outside of school since the year started.
“It’s weirdly quiet here,” I say, swiveling back and forth in the chair.
“My brother is spending the night at a friend’s house,” she says, setting an open bottle of ginger ale in front of me, and popping the top off hers. We drink in silence for a moment, then head into the dining room, where we spread out across their huge table.
“What did you think of the party?” she asks, setting up her laptop on its pink stand.
“Um.” I pull up Ms. Lundahl’s assignment from the online portal. “It was ...really fun, actually.”
“Right? Those cupcakes, oh my god.” Her eyes roll back in appreciation. “And there was a great turnout. How are things with you and Forrest?”
I shrug. “I mean, not to jinx anything, but ...I think we might not be mortal enemies anymore?”
Her eyes widen. “So, just regular enemies?”
I laugh. “Maybe not even that. I don’t know. He’s not terrible.”
“The bar is on the floor,” she says dryly.
“It’s not like we’re friends or anything,” I say. “But we’re collaborating, and it’s working.”
“Well, good,” she says.
I look at her over the top of my laptop. Her eyes are on her screen, fingers tapping as she scans whatever is in front of her. “Are you working on the Lundahl assignment?”
“Yeeeeeeeah.” She grimaces. “She didnotfuck around.”
