Page 159 of Saving Sparrow
“I’m the new QB.” Quentin curled his forearm, his biceps doubling in size. “ThestarQB.”
“Oh my, and is this your throwing arm?”
“Yeah, it’s packed with power. The team calls me The Arm—but I can also rush a touchdown like nobody’s business.”
“Ooooh, arunningquarterback. I hear those are rare.”
“Eh, not really. But I guess you can sayI’mrare. I make miracles happen on the field.”
Kayden kept squeezing as Quentin ran down the high school stats that landed him at Wembly. Rachel waited patiently for the conversation to end, while Miguel and I crossed our arms, glaring at Quentin. He cleared his throat when he noticed.
“Unhand me, Teddy.” He yanked his arm away.
Kayden recoiled. “Teddy?”
“His name isKayden,” I said, not putting it past Quentin to go into the whole Ted Bundy thing. “And this is Rachel. Kayden and Rachel, these are my boyfriends Quentin and Miguel.”
Kayden and Rachel offered friendly hellos, while Miguel and Quentin mumbled their greetings. I’d expected that from Quentin, but Miguel’s rudeness surprised me.
“Um, we’ve gotta go.” I wanted to put an end to the awkward silence. “Miguel and I have ten minutes to make it across campus.” We were the only ones lingering in the room now, and I waved goodbye as I ushered Quentin and Miguel out.
“I’ll save a booth for you guys at Queer Life in case you change your mind!” Kayden called out.
I pretended not to hear him, walking ahead of Quentin and Miguel once we’d made it outside. I went through the rest of the day feeling anxious and low, Miguel and I not speaking much at all. I tried to remember the last time I’d felt that bad, and only one word came to mind.
Alaska.
I heard the TV blaring from our apartment before even reaching our landing. Miguel and I shared a look before unlocking the door and stepping inside.
“What’s this?” I asked once we’d reached the bedroom doorway.
“It’s RuPaul’s Drag Race,” Quentin said from behind us. I whirled around, staring at him through the converted spare bedroom’s door. He wore one of my dresses, but it was too tight around the chest and shoulder area, and the side zipper was stuck less than halfway up.
Miguel must have turned the TV down because suddenly I could hear myself breathing.
“My last class was canceled,” Quentin said. “I was hoping to have everything set up by the time you got home.” He’d set up a vanity in the corner, and drugstore bags surrounded it. I assumed they were full of cosmetics.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think you look silly.” I couldn’t hide my annoyance.
“Yeah, well, the things we do for love, right?” He pulled me over to the vanity stool. “Sit.”
Miguel leaned against the doorjamb, watching as Quentin unloaded the makeup onto the vanity table.
“I got every shade in every brand. You can try things until you find a look you like.”
I picked up a purple lipstick, turning it over in my hand.
“And I bet your cell phone isn’t charged, so you can use mine to watch the tutorial I found.” His phone rang in the distance, the ringtone set toWe Are the Champions.
“Shit, Coach. Be right back.” Quentin hurried to the door, the fabric of the dress tearing as he went. He really did look ridiculous.
I tossed the lipstick onto the table, dropping my head back on an exhale before turning to Miguel. “Why aren’t you helping?” Without Miguel’s voice of reason, Quentin’s fears got the best of him.
“Maybe because I agree with him.”
“When has that ever stopped you from talking him off a ledge?” It didn’t normally matter whether he agreed with Quentin. Miguel always did what was best for Quentin, what was best for us, even if he thought Quentin’s intentions were good.
