Page 29 of Shifting Gears

“He looks it,” Eleanor remarks. They’re still kissing, having passed the glass jug off to someone else to free up their hands.

The disruption is itself disrupted by the bell on the bar top ringing a few times.

“Anyone who’s performing, get your asses to the stage,” Jenny shouts.

“Hell, yes,” Ryan says, pulling a red wig and a pair of scarlet cowboy boots out of a duffel bag Eleanor hadn’t noticed before.

Dani pulls something out of her pocket, humming a song Eleanor only vaguely recognizes. She then applies what turns out to be a large fake moustache to her upper lip.

“Pitter patter,” Dani says, before she disappears backstage. Eleanor is left blinking at the spot Dani disappeared from.

Part of Riverwalk Pride, it turns out, is a karaoke talent show of sorts. Everyone does their own little performance, with the winner being decided by a vote, all for the coveted prize of a free pizza from the place next door. Ryan does a campy drag mash-up of various female country music stars, at one point laying himself across the laps of the entire front row. Mila does a classic pop song, and Owen pulls out an emotional ballad in a lowerkey. Even Sarah gets dragged onstage to do a reluctant number, which Naomi claps disproportionately loudly for.

After Sarah’s performance, the single light onstage swings around dramatically a few times before settling on the centre, and, from the makeshift wings, out steps Dani.

She’s still in her white pants, but now her hair is slicked back into a tight, hidden bun at the base of her neck and the flannel is nowhere to be seen. She’s just in the white tank top and jeans, her arms on full display and her collarbones shining with body glitter. The fake moustache is firmly affixed. She has what appears to be a comically large ball of socks stuffed into the front of her pants.

The look is complete, and as the opening notes to her song play on the speakers, the whole thing starts to make sense.

Dani is clearly the front-runner for the win. She works the crowd like a pro, jumping around and showing off an impressive voice. Not everyone could hit the high notes in a Queen song, and Dani does it with ease. It’s all very campy and manageable, and Eleanor is able to let loose and have a good time without drooling too noticeably.

Until the middle of the song, when Dani starts to move into the crowd.

She does hip thrusts near Ryan’s face that are definitely meant to be funny, but Eleanor finds herself flushing from head to toe instead. Dani sits on Owen’s lap, serenading him as he waves a five-dollar bill, and pulls Mila to her feet to twirl her a few times. And then, horribly—wonderfully—she makes her way to Eleanor, who suddenly realizes she’s in a front-row seat.

Dani doesn’t even really get in Eleanor’s space like she did with the others, though. She just drops to her knees, legs splayed, and sings directly to Eleanor in that same overdramatic way she’s been doing to everyone else.

It’s silly. It shouldn’t affect Eleanor at all. But, oh, it does. Since Eleanor is wearing jeans today rather than a skirt, it’s so easy for Dani to lay a single hand on her knee, which makes Eleanor’s legs fall open a tiny bit, anddear God.

She’s just performing, Eleanor tells herself as her heartbeat skyrockets and seems to land directly between her legs on the way back down.It’s an act. She’s doing it to everyone.But that doesn’t erase the fact that Dani is essentially kneeled between Eleanor’s thighs, undulating her hips in a way that’s giving Eleanor very specific mental images.

Even the stupid fake moustache isn’t enough to calm Eleanor’s libido. When Dani finally leaves to jump back onstage for the finale, Eleanor could probably melt into a puddle in her plastic chair.

Dani wins the contest, of course. Apparently, last year’s winner was Ryan, and Dani was determined to beat him, so she gets everyone a round of drinks in celebration.

“How did I do?” Dani says breathlessly, finally moustacheless, flopping into the chair next to Eleanor and handing her a shallow glass of clear liquor.

Eleanor grips it tightly. She’s not usually one for hard liquors besides the occasional whiskey on the rocks, but right now something stronger than wine or beer might be just what she needs.

“Clearly you did well, considering you won,” Eleanor says.

Dani waves carelessly. “Yeah, sure, but they see me make an idiot of myself every year. I want to know what you thought.”

Biting back her first thought—I wanted you to rip that stupid moustache off, along with my clothes and possibly every scrap of my dignity—Eleanor scrambles to force her brain into neutral territory. She settles on a casual compliment. “I had no idea you could sing like that. You could be a professional.”

Dani smiles, accepting a passing high-five. “Eh, I don’t think I’d like that. Too busy. I prefer this.”

Eleanor prefers this as well. She prefers Dani here, performing for her—muscled and dextrous and so very good with her hands.

Crossing her legs, Eleanor downs the drink Dani brought her in a single swallow.

She’d assumed that it was vodka, but the fluid that burns its way down Eleanor’s esophagus is unlike anything she’s ever had before. It’s liquid fire, unthinkably strong and acrid, with a slight aftertaste she can’t identify. She almost doesn’t get it down.

“Oh my God, what—what the fuck was that?” Eleanor puts the glass down, wheezing and coughing her way through the pain.

Dani winces. She moves closer to rub Eleanor’s back, patting her a few times. “Shoot, sorry—I meant to warn you!” She moves the empty glass away and offers Eleanor some water to wash it down. It does nothing to soothe the burn. “It’s strawberry moonshine. You weren’t supposed to take it all at once.”

Eleanor clears her throat. It feels raspy, like she’s taken a shot of pure ethanol. “I don’t taste strawberries at all.”

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