Page 21 of Cleats and Pumps

Finally, it was decided we had to do a performance standoff. “Pick your songs carefully, girls,” the MC said.

My competition went first, lip-syncing to “Read You, Wrote You” fromRuPaul’s Drag Race. The audience reacted like they were on ecstasy, screaming and dancing to the beat.

I figured my chances were over. I was a ballad guy. I didn’t know the songs onDrag Racewell enough to sing them, and I sure as hell couldn’t put on a show like the diva before me had, at least not in these heels, so I decided to go old school.

I leaned over to the DJ and said, “Karaoke Whitney Houston, ‘I Have Nothing’.”

“For real?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It’s all I got,” I said as I followed the diva who’d now left the stage, knowing I’d have to give it my all, since I was following a high-energy performance with a slower ballad.

Several audience members groaned, which did nothing for my esteem, but fuck them all. I was here to perform, and I’d be damned if I didn’t give them a show.

When I got to the point where the music picked up, I’d caught a few followers, and I once again sang to Tommy after finding him in the audience.

The alcohol was doing its job, causing me to lose what few inhibitions I had left, as I did my best Whitney impersonation, arms in the air before sliding them down my sides. As I sang, I stretched the note out perfectly, generating applause.

The audience was singing with me, a really good sign. I noticed Tommy blushing— bizarre, but I didn’t have time to ponder that now.

By the time I got to the second stanza, I’d garnered support from my audience skeptics. Luckily, the music naturally built emotions. The entire audience was now singing.

I put all my alcohol-induced emotions into the song as I sang to my muse…

The audience erupted in applause as I finished. I did my best Whitney wave and exited the stage, trying my hardest not to fall in the stupid shoes.

I thought I’d done well, but apparently, not well enough. The drag race diva took first, leaving my ass in the dust. Oh well,it was worth it though. I’d take two things from tonight. One, I loved to play dress-up, and two, if I wanted to win, I’d have to put a lot more energy into my act.Nothing was handed out on a silver platter, I could hear my old man say in my head, which fit perfectly.

Owen and I chatted and bantered like crazy all the way back to campus.

“Girl, you mopped up tonight. I didn’t think you had that in you.”

“Guess all I needed was some fake tits and a wig to release my inner diva.”

“Please, you’ve always been a diva, ” Owen countered causing me to laugh.

Tommy was quiet, even more so than normal, and when we got back, he didn’t hang with us like he usually did. Instead, he went upstairs to bed.

“What’s up with him?” I asked Owen.

Owen just shook his head. “You’re such an ass,” he said and got up to leave too.

“What?” I asked, totally confused.

“You are a clueless ass, at that.” And he left me sitting alone in the living room.

I searched my memories for something I’d said or done to upset Tommy, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I’d done wrong. Then I remembered I’d hugged Tommy and teased him as I grabbed his ass. Damn, I’d done that before but not when I’d been thinking of him sexually. Maybe I’d given off some sexual vibes. I was treading on our friendship, and I needed to make it clear I didn’t mean to sexualize us.

By the time I got to the room, got the makeup off, and showered, Tommy was turned away from me. I crawled into bed and thought about how I’d handle things now they were gettingweird. Quietly, I said, “Sorry, Tommy,” under my breath, hoping he’d at least feel how sorry I was to have hurt him.

7

Tommy

Icouldn’tshakethememory.While Amos stood on stage singing Whitney Houston, he stared at me, and the words struck me in my core.

I accepted then and there that I’d been lying to myself. Yeah, Amos was one of the best friends I’d ever had, but he was more than that.

I am in love with him!

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