Page 157 of Saving Sparrow
Quentin didn’t seem bothered by our commentary. He sat between us at the top of the lecture hall, his palms cupping our napes possessively, his gaze plastered to the door awaiting Kayden’s arrival.
I’d told him all about Kayden and Rachel, and the invite to drag night. His response was to drop his economics class—without telling us—and enroll in our Intro to English class under an elective. Imagine our surprise when, instead of him kissing us goodbye in front of Wembly Hall this morning, he announced we’d be classmates.
“How were you even able to make this happen after the deadline?” Miguel asked him. We’d gotten here early, so only a few other students trickled in. Professor Ingram hadn’t even arrived yet.
“I hate to say it,” Quentin started in a cocky tone that meant the opposite was true, “because all humans should be treated equally, but there are certain privileges that come with being the star quarterback.”
“The star?” I asked.
“You haven’t even played a game yet,” Miguel chimed in.
“The first game is this week, and they know a star when they see one.” He didn’t take his eyes off the door.
“Would you stop watching the door?” I batted his hand away. “You don’t even know what he looks like.” I refused to give him a description after he’d gotten all territorial and jealous. Miguel wouldn’t either.
Quentin gave me a sharp look. “Is he already here?” He turned his attention to the few people down in front. “Is it the mouth-breather in the leather biker jacket? It’s eighty degrees outside, for fuck’s sake.”
“Will you please not make a scene?” I said under my breath as someone took a seat a couple of spots down in our row. “Nothing is going on. He just invited us to a drag show.”
Quentin leaned into my space. “Another man’s got you wanting to shop for heels and makeup, pretty girl. I’d say a whole lot is going on.”
“It’s for the party, not him, you… you… youidiota!” I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but I’d never been so annoyed. “Sorry,” I whispered, looking around.
“See,”—He looked to Miguel for support—“this guy’s coming between us already.”
“Knock it off, Quentin,” Miguel said softly. “It’s one thing to protect us from assholes, but this is a stretch, even for you.”
“Why are you pretending not to be pissed about this? We’ve always hung out with each other. We don’t party with other people.”
I waited for Miguel to defend me, to call Quentin out again, but he just faced forward with a guilty expression.Washe upset?
Quentin was right, though. Until then, it’d been all about us. I wasn’t trying to change that, but there was a part of me crying out for something they couldn’t provide. The same part that snuck into my mother’s dress, the same part my parents couldn’t pray away. My sexuality was only a fraction of what I needed to express and explore.
“I’m never leaving you,” I whispered to him, turning his face toward me. “I’m never leaving either of you.”
“That’s what they all say.” Quentin shook his head, going back to watching the door. This time, I didn’t push him away when he squeezed the back of my neck. This was more than him being an asshole. He was scared.
I peeked over at Miguel. His eyes landed on me for a quick second before he looked away. I slouched in my seat, second-guessing myself. Maybe I was being selfish. Maybe what I needed wasn’t worth screwing things up with Quentin and Miguel.
Students poured in, raising the cacophony of sound in the lecture hall. Kayden and two other guys slipped through the doors, and I pushed up in my seat. Quentin noticed.
“Which one?” he asked in a low, menacing tone. He looked over the three options, dismissing Kayden immediately. “Is it buzz cut? Or the dude with the hunch?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“It’s the one in the frilly top and pink wig,” Miguel blurted out. “Sorry,” he said when I gaped at him, “but you know he wasn’t going to stop until he knew.”
“What?Can’t be.”Quentin watched Kayden cross to the other side of the hall. “He’s a him?”
“I’ma him,” I reminded him.
“I wasn’t trying to be offensive. I genuinely didn’t know. Don’t pretend there isn’t a difference between you two.”
I wasn’t flamboyant, but my looks and bone structure could definitely get me mistaken for a girl, especially when I dressed like one.
“Doesn’t matter, he’s non-threatening, and he doesn’t want to fuck me.”
“Did hesayhe didn’t want to fuck you?”
