“I think you’re amazing,” Dylan said. “You’re talented, smart, and classy. You’re pretty badass.”
Blair smirked and lifted her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
They both took a sip, but then Blair sobered a little. “Look, Dylan, I appreciate this. Thank you.”
Dylan shook her head. “It was a long time coming.”
“Yeah, it was. But for what it’s worth, I recognize your—” Blair sighed, hesitated. “I get that the way you grew up wasn’t easy.”
“That’s no excuse to be a dick.”
Blair laughed. “No. But it explains it a little, at least.”
Dylan laughed too, and then they sat there, people dancing and whooping around them, finally a comfortable peace between them. A real one. Air cleared, shit owned.
And god, it felt good.
It felt good just to be honest, to take responsibility for her choices. Dylan had been putting shit on her parents for so long, and sure, they held their share of the blame for a lot of things, and like Blair said, that explained a lot, but this was Dylan’s life.
Not Jack’s or Carrie’s.
And Dylan decided its shape and path.
“Hey, you two,” Iris Kelly said, approaching their table. She had on a pair of navy high-waisted pants covered in yellow suns and moons and a green crop top. Her red hair was long and thick, tiny braids woven throughout. “I’ve been looking for you. May I?” She gestured to the other chair at the table.
“Please,” Blair said, sliding her wineglass out of Iris’s way.
Iris sat, took a sip of her own white wine. “I just wanted to tell you both how wonderful you were. Truly, I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect Eloise and Mallory.”
“Really?” Dylan asked.
Iris laughed. “Really. That surprises you?”
“A little,” Dylan said, laughing too. “Took me a while to find Eloise.”
“She did it though,” Blair said, winking at Dylan.
“She absolutely did,” Iris said. “Thank you both. This has been a dream come true for me.”
“Thankyoufor writing a kick-ass queer romance,” Dylan said, lifting her club soda.
“I’ll drink to that too,” Blair said.
Iris beamed and they all clinked glasses and took a sip, then Iris glanced around the room.
“Where’s your girlfriend, Dylan?” she asked. “Ramona, right?”
Blair just widened her eyes at Dylan, as though waiting for the answer too, even though Dylan knew she already knew what had happened between them.
“I’m not sure,” Dylan said, her stomach tightening. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Oh,” Iris said, making ayikesface. “Sorry. Put my foot in my mouth. I tend to do that.”
Dylan waved a hand. “It’s fine.”
An awkward silence filtered between them.
“Okay, I’m just going to keep my foot in my mouth and ask what happened,” Iris said.
