‘Right.’
‘But do you want to come back here tomorrow night?’ he says. ‘Come by early and we can talk about drag, talk makeup, wigs, heels, the whole shebang. I’ll get you a ticket for the show too.’
‘Really?’ My heart flutters a little in my chest. He can’t be serious. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Absolutely,’ he says. ‘We need to look out for each other and if I can stop one baby drag queen from going out into the streets like a busted mess, then I’m doing a good deed.’ He pauses. ‘Not that you looked like a busted mess,’ he says. ‘You just cried your make-up all down your face and then looked like a busted mess. That we can fix.’
I don’t know what to say.
‘Sweetheart, you can speak. I won’t bite,’ he says.
‘I’ll be there,’ I say. ‘What time?’
‘Well, the show starts at around eight thirty, so if you can get yourself here for four thirty we’ll have time to chat and I might even let you watch me paint,’ he says, winking and walking away. ‘If you’re looking for your boy, he’s down there.’
Natalie appears at the end of the alleyway, Greg, Priya and Seth in tow. She runs towards me and wraps me in a hug, her grip so fierce it almost knocks the breath right out of me.
‘I was so worried,’ she says. ‘I followed you outside, but you freaking vanished. The bouncer didn’t even see you go – we were looking in town.’
‘Sorry,’ I mumble into her neck.
‘I don’t think you’re the one who needs to be apologizing right now,’ she says, pulling away and looking at my face. ‘You’ve taken your make-up off.’
‘Kaye had a wipe.’
She blinks. ‘Kaye? Kaye as in Kaye Bye?’
I nod.
‘Holy shit’ she says. ‘Well, I’m glad we didn’t come outside and interrupt you getting to know Kaye Bye. Are you OK?’ she adds. ‘That performance was . . .’ She trails off. We both know what it was. It’s just whether or not I want her to know why it was the way it was.
‘It wasn’t my best moment,’ I say, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I look past Natalie’s shoulder to Seth. ‘I swear I’m better than that.’
He nods. ‘Greg’s been telling me.’ Greg goes a little bit pink. ‘We’ll have to try again sometime.’
I nod. ‘Let’s go back inside.’
We go back inside and I’m fizzing. The knowledge that I’ll be seeing Kaye Bye tomorrow night stops me from caring so much about the people eyeing me as I walk back in, people who probably think I’m shit and wonder why I even got up there. I can’t hear them. I shift my focus. It will get me through.
EIGHTEEN
‘OK,’ Natalie says as she walks out of her front door the following morning. ‘I feel freaking awful. Please don’t tell me these auditions have ruined you forever because that would be beyond tragic.’ She looks at me, eyes wide, waiting for me to fill in the blanks. I refused to talk about it last night, but now she’s looking at me expectantly and either I tell her now and get it all out, or I hold it all in and feel like shit.
And while the words are on the tip of my tongue to tell her exactly what happened with Connor last night, I swallow each and every one of them. They taste like acid on the way down. The words have been running around my head all night, despite everything that happened with Kaye. Disgusting. Faggot. A constant loop of torment from a boy who is supposed to care about me.
‘My nerves got the better of me, I think,’ I say, blinking back tears, averting my gaze from Natalie. ‘I saw Connor outside and realized what I was doing and got so, so nervous. It’s honestly nothing. Stage fright.’
‘You saw Connor?’
‘He was with his friends,’ I say. ‘But that’s nothing. It was the nerves. I just could have done with a little bit of warning that it was going to happen.’ I add a laugh so she knows I’m OK, so she knows that I’m not annoyed about it, not really.
‘And that’s why you were hugging Seth?’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘He was really good, actually. Pep talks and everything.’
Natalie shrugs.
‘What?’
‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘I just don’t trust him with you – that’s all.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know . . . He just seems like bad news, Robin, don’t you think?’ she says. ‘Not showing up for classes, getting into shouting matches with Mrs Finch—’
‘You’re always so flirty with him.’
‘That’s just fun,’ she says. ‘I’m being nice, but being nice doesn’t mean I want him all up in your business.’
‘Well, he was nice to me last night,’ I say.
Natalie sighs. ‘I’m sorry I did it, Robin. It was shitty of me to throw you in at the deep end like that,’ she says. ‘I thought it would be good for you, thought it would get you out of this funk that you’re in right now. I thought I could help and instead I’ve ruined your confidence.’
‘No, no, don’t say that,’ I say. ‘I wouldn’t have done it by myself – you know what I’m like. And, sure, it’s knocked me a bit, but that’s not because of the singing.’
‘Hey, if nothing else, at least you got to talk to Kaye Bye,’ she says. ‘What is she like out of drag? Like, is she any different?’
‘Oh my God, completely,’ I say, the subject change welcome. ‘I mean, once I realized who he was, you could totally see it. And I’ll know more tonight, I guess.’
Natalie screams. ‘I am so excited for you! Look at you! You’re going to be a real drag queen!’
‘I dunno,’ I say. ‘Maybe she just feels sorry for me. I was kind of a mess last night.’
‘You stop this!’ she says. ‘Find happy Robin again! This is going to be great for you! I’m so jealous!’
‘You can come with me if you want. I’m sure she won’t mind.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not? I thought you’d jump at the chance!’
‘Amber is home,’ she says. ‘Mum wanted to do a family dinner, just us, but Dad invited everybody. It’s a full extended family extravaganza. It’s going to be a lot. And by a lot I mean a lot of food, a lot of people and just . . . a lot!’
‘How did your mum take that?’
‘She’s had to go out and pretty much quadruple everything she bought,’ Nat says with a laugh. ‘But I’m going to help her cook, which means I can earmark leftovers.’
‘Ah, good daughter, but with a motive.’
‘An original Natalie Josephs move!’ She bows and then sighs. ‘Promise me you’ll be careful if you’re going by yourself.’
‘I’ll even leave my phone on loud and text you when I get home.’
She smiles and squeezes my hand. ‘Great, and take videos because I’m really freaking gutted I’m not coming with you,’ she says. ‘Maybe next time. What did your mum say about two nights out in a row?’
‘Well, she wasn’t home last night and she thought I was singing, which technically I was, so I messaged her when I got home as normal. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,’ I say. ‘And tonight she thinks I’m at a class again so . . .’
Natalie takes a sharp breath.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Come on, Robin, lying to your mum is a little much,’ she says. ‘If you’d explained to her, she might have been all right about it.’
I shake my head. ‘I told you she was funny about us going to a drag night in the first place,’ I say. ‘So if she found out we were at Entity last night or that I was going to learn about how to drag with Kaye Bye, she’d lose her mind.’
‘Robin—’
‘I don’t want her to worry,’ I say. ‘I know it’s not good, but one little lie can’t hurt, right?’
‘What about Connor?’
‘That’s not a lie – that’s a lie of omission,’ I say.
‘It still has the word “lie” in it,’ Natalie says. ‘Be careful, OK?’
‘Yes, yes, I’ll text you when I get home—’
‘
I don’t mean that, Robin,’ she says. ‘I just mean—’
‘Yeah, I know,’ I say. I hate lying to Mum more than anything. I try to shake that feeling of awfulness from my head as we make our way into school.
When the bell rings at three thirty I want to hurry home and put on some decent clothes before I head out again to meet Kaye. I’m still a little bit in shock that it’s even happening, half expecting to show up at Entity and be turned away.
It’s as I’m coming down towards the bike sheds that I see Seth. He’s leaning against the technology block, his phone in his hand, his eyes fixed on the screen. He’s wearing his leather jacket, all blond Danny Zuko in a faded Pokémon tee and Converse that are so beat up I’m surprised they’re still on his feet. It suits him, though. You can’t deny that the boy wears it well.
He hears me coming and looks up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. My heart thrills to think that someone as gorgeous and sweet as Seth is that pleased to see me.
‘Hey, you,’ he says. ‘I’ve not seen you all day.’
I raise an eyebrow. ‘Were you looking for me?’ I ask.
‘Uh, well . . . not looking exactly, but I kept an eye out,’ he says. ‘I wanted to check in and see if you were OK after last night. And I saw your bike was still here when I was leaving so thought I’d wait and ask you in person.’
I’m a little lost for words. A silence pushes its way between us, him looking at me, me looking at him and taking in every inch of his face: the sharp jawline, the crooked teeth (still smiling – gosh, this boy loves to smile), the sparkly blue eyes, the swoopy blond hair. He flicks it out of his face with a twitch of his head. I’m doomed.
‘So are you going to ask me?’ I whisper.
‘Huh?’
‘If I’m OK?’
‘Sure,’ he says. He clears his throat and waits a beat, like he’s thinking of a way to do it that isn’t so obvious. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Profound, did you come up with that yourself?’ I say, which makes him laugh and oh God yes I love it when he laughs. ‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘I wish you didn’t have to see me, one, make an ass of myself last night and, two, cry.’
‘Well, I didn’t run away screaming.’
‘You flatter me,’ I say.
‘And last night was fun,’ he says. ‘We should do it again sometime.’
‘Yeah, the five of us should—’
‘Robin, you can’t honestly be that innocent,’ he says flatly. And it floors me. I really don’t know what to say. ‘I like Priya, Natalie and Greg, but I meant that we, you and I, should do it again sometime.’
I take a deep breath. ‘I’d like that.’
He smiles. ‘Me too.’
‘I gathered.’
‘And I need to hear you sing properly,’ he says. ‘So next time Natalie decides to throw you up onstage at a moment’s notice you let me know.’
‘I’ll be waiting for your pep talk,’ I reply.
‘I’ll start working on it now, shall I?’
I’m just looking at how perfect his face is again when I realize that I need to go. There are so many bits of me that want to spend more time talking to him because I want to get to know him so badly, but opportunity awaits and it is in the form of a drag queen.
‘I’m so sorry to do this to you, like you have no idea how sorry, but I have to go. I have a thing tonight.’
‘OK,’ he says, shrugging. ‘But how will I know?’
‘If he really loves me?’ I reply.
‘What?’
‘Whitney.’
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I just meant how will I know if you’re performing again.’
‘Wow,’ I say. ‘I really want to die right now.’ And he laughs again and holy shit this is such a score. ‘Well, you could always give me your number?’
His eyes widen. ‘I could?’
‘Is that horrifyingly forward?’
He puts out his hand and I give him my phone. I watch his fingers as they tap the screen, and I’m aware of how close to him I am, of how, as he’s typing, his tongue is sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he concentrates. He suddenly looks up, catches me staring. He laughs.
‘Here,’ he says, handing me the phone. ‘Message me.’
I smile. ‘Sure.’
Seth leans in. ‘We’ve got company,’ he says.
I turn sharply and see Connor standing behind me. Seth is looking directly at him, confused, challenging. The events of last night suddenly come crashing over me as I see Connor’s face. I don’t want to have to go through this right now.
‘Isn’t that the guy from last night?’ Seth says to me.
‘Yeah . . .’ I trail off.
‘Are you OK?’ he says. ‘Do you need me to—?’
‘No, no, no, I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Um . . . I’ll message you.’
Seth eyes me curiously. ‘Okaaaaay. See you tomorrow?’
‘Sure,’ I say, watching as he walks away. I’m singing Whitney Houston in my head. He’s got me good.
‘Robin?’ Connor says, and I turn to face him, fixing him with the harshest stare I can manage.
‘No,’ I reply, walking past him and to the bike sheds. I can hear him following me. I know what he wants, I know what he is expecting, but I do not want to deal with it right now.
‘Robin—’
‘Please don’t,’ I say, checking my phone and feeling my heart jump at the fact that it is already getting close to half past three. I still have to get home and then actually get to Southford. At this rate I’m not going to make it.
‘I just wanted to talk to you.’
‘I think you said enough yesterday,’ I say, and I see the words stab him. He looks hurt and I do my absolute best not to feel the slightest bit of sympathy towards him.
‘It’s complicated.’
‘I know it’s complicated – it’s always complicated,’ I snap. ‘But last night you stood there and you let that happen to me. You didn’t stand up for me again, Connor. What the hell?’
‘Robin . . .’ He trails off. None of it sounds like an apology and it’s making me angry. I like him. I like him a lot. But then there is Seth, sweet and lovely Seth, who just gave me his number and wants to spend time with me. It’s not complicated, it’s not making me upset, it’s just light. All of this Connor stuff feels too dark right now.
‘Will you move so I can get to my bike, please?’
‘No.’
‘Connor.’
‘Robin.’
‘I have places I need to be,’ I say.
‘You have to let me explain,’ he says. ‘When I saw you, I didn’t know what to say.’
‘That’s funny, because you seemed to know exactly what to say,’ I reply, and I can feel myself getting upset, and I don’t want to get upset in front of him, nor do I want to show up at Entity with tears in my eyes. ‘The word you chose was disgusting, Connor.’
‘I’m sorry.’
I open my mouth to speak then stop. I don’t know what to say to that.
I steel myself and move towards him, and there is the briefest moment where I can tell that he thinks I’m going to kiss him and it scares him. He flinches backwards and moves out of my way. I take a deep breath, keep telling myself not to cry, and unlock my bike.
‘Robin, please—’
‘I don’t have time for this, Connor,’ I say. ‘I have to go.’ And I don’t know if I’m talking about right at this very second or us as a thing entirely, and I can see he’s thinking the same thing.
I ride off, trying to push thoughts of Connor out of my head, trying not to think about Seth and his perfect face, the fact that I lied to Natalie, to my mum. None of that matters right now; all that matters is that I make it to this freaking club and that Kaye actually lets me in.
I swing home and get changed, before heading off again, pedalling like my life depends on it, because it feels like it does. I lock my bike up over the road from Entity and walk in. The bouncer from last night isn�
��t there to check my ID or anything, and no one behind the bar seems to care, so I wander inside.
‘What can I get you, babes?’ A gorgeous black man is standing behind the bar. He’s wearing a waistcoat in place of a shirt, which is more than a little unnerving, and has enough tattoos over his body that he can only truly be described as a walking work of art.
‘I’m here to see Kaye,’ I say. ‘Kaye Bye.’
‘Oh yes, I know Kaye,’ he says with a little laugh. ‘She’s not performing until later, but you’re more than welcome to wait.’
‘No,’ I say. He looks taken aback and I realize just how short I sound. ‘Sorry. I’m meant to be meeting her here. My name is Robin, and I’m late. Would you mind getting her?’
‘I said four thirty,’ a voice says from a door near the back of the bar. Kaye, in her male form, is standing in the doorframe wearing a T-shirt bearing a picture of Kaye in full drag, make-up stains all over it. ‘What time do you call this?’
I check my phone. ‘Quarter to five,’ I say, still a little out of breath. ‘But I cycled here, and I swear I got here as fast as I could, and I’m not normally late and—’
‘If you know anything about the theatre, it’s that to be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late and to be late is unacceptable,’ he says, looking unimpressed. ‘Let this be your first lesson about drag: to be on time is to be early, to be half an hour late is to be top of the bill.’ He giggles. ‘Don’t be the kind of queen that’s late – I will not have it. Not in my house, do you hear?’ He sighs and pinches the brim of his nose. ‘Come on up. The girls are waiting.’
‘The girls?’
He smiles. ‘You didn’t think it would just be me, did you?’ He chuckles. It’s girlish, a little high-pitched. ‘No, my dear, you’re going to have to get acquainted with the whole Dragcellence family. Follow me.’
NINETEEN
Kaye leads me through a blue painted door and up a creaky set of stairs. Along the wall, written in whatever the writers could get their hands on, are tiny messages, signatures and lipstick marks.
Boy Queen Page 14