December
On the first Monday of December, after Thanksgiving break, Liv came up to my locker. "Do you want to go to a drag show?"
"What?"
"A drag show," she repeated quietly. "Like, drag queens. They're like, guys who dress upâ"
"I know what a drag queen is," I whispered, interrupting her. "Where? When? Also, how do you know about it?"
"Twitter," she said in a duh voice. "It's this Friday. It's a little over an hour away at a club in Mayford."
"I don't know," I said. "Don't you need to be 21 to get into a club? And my parents..."
"Isaac knows someone who knows someone who can get us fakes. And you can invite Josh." She winked at me. "Just lie to your parents. I do it constantly. They still think I'm in Key Club."
"Well yeah, I lie to my parents, too. But they'd never let me stay out past like, one."
"Have you ever considered maybe just...getting in trouble? Like, what's the worst that could happen? A scolding? No TV? Your parents aren't psychos."
I considered this for a moment. In all honesty, I'd never actually gotten into serious trouble with my parents. Partially because they're pretty oblivious, but also because I'd never really done anything worthy of being grounded, other than going to a handful of parties they never knew took place.
"Okay, fine." I smiled at her. "Let's do it." I paused and then added, "But I'm not sure about inviting Josh."
"How come?"
"It's just...I don't know if that's really his scene, and plus the whole drinking thing." I whispered the last two words, even though most of the school knew about his DUI at that point. Secrets didn't stay secrets long in Clareview. It was only news for a few days, though, because a girl in the grade behind us got pregnant.
Liv nodded. "Oh, yeah, that's fair. Well, it's up to you."
"By the way," I said, "what even is Isaac? Like, how is he the hookup for everything...illegal?"
Liv shrugged. "I think every school has an Isaac. It's best to just not question it."
***
That night, while I was talking on the phone with Josh, I decided to bring up the idea of going to the drag show. I really wanted to go with him, but I also didn't want to put him into a situation that would be hard for him. So, I thought it best to just talk to him about it.
When I told him how Liv wanted me to go to a drag show, he asked, "A drag show? Like...racing?"
I had a hard time containing my laughter. "No, like drag queens."
"From your tone I feel like maybe that's something I should know?"
"No, no, it's cool," I said, suppressing my laughter. Then, I gave him an incredibly simplified explanation of what the art of drag was. "It's like men dressing up as women. Or like, it's usually gay men that dress up in women's clothes, with crazy outfits and makeup and stuff. And they sing or lip sync and dance or whatever."
"Oh. Okay. Are you going?"
"I was thinking about it," I answered. "Um, she also said I could invite you, but I didn't really know if you going to a club would be a good idea. Like, because of the alcohol and everything. Plus, you could get in trouble or whatever."
"Oh." He was quiet for a moment. "Sorry, are you trying to invite me or telling me I'm not invited?"
"Um. I don't know?" I let out a nervous laugh.
"You don't need to, like, baby me or tiptoe around me, Connor."
"I know," I said quickly. "I just didn't know...what you'd think."
"I'm not an alcoholic," he said firmly. "I can...be around alcohol. I just won't drink. It's fine."
"I don't think you're an alcoholic," I lied. I was glad he couldn't see my face because I was cringing hard as fuck. "I mean, it'd be cool if you went. It would also be cool...if you didn't."
"When is it?"
"It's this Friday. But um...you know, it's 21+, so Liv said Isaac has a hookup for fake IDs."
"I have a fake," he said.
"Wait, really? Why?"
"Why do you think? To buy booze."
"Huh." I considered that for a moment. Was it possible he still used it to buy alcohol and drank without me knowing?
"I'll think about coming, okay?"
"Okay. Sounds good."
After we hung up, I wondered if maybe it was a terrible idea I kind of sort of invited him.
***
The process of getting a fake ID was surprisingly simple but also sort of sketchy. Basically, Liv and I took headshots of ourselves behind a neutral background. We took them in her basement because the walls were plain white. My photo turned out kind of gross, but it didn't matter because the show Fakes taught me that fake ID photos had to be bad to look real. Then, we emailed them to some guy, as well as Venmo'd $100 each to Isaac, who passed it along to a guy who knows a guy or whatever.
By Thursday morning, Liv and I had our fake IDs that listed our ages as 21. Isaac had met us in the school's parking lot and given them to us in a manila envelope. I was now a proud fake citizen of Connecticut.
"Do these look real?" I asked Liv, inspecting mine. "I don't know what a Connecticut driver's license is supposed to look like."
"Yeah, I think so," Liv said, looking at her own. "Is Josh coming?"
"On Monday he said he'll think about it. So I guess he's still thinking about it?"
"Well, we should probably leave tomorrow at like 7:30 because the show starts at 9. I can pick you up. And Josh, too, if he decides to come."
"Um, I'll ask him again," I said. The bell rang indicating we had 5 minutes to get to first period.
During class, I texted Josh. Did you wanna come to the show tomorrow?
He didn't respond until the beginning of second period. Yeah, I guess I'll come.
You don't have to, I replied.
Just take yes as an answer lol.
Okay, well cool! I sent back with a smiley face emoji.
I was pretty excited to go to the show. To be perfectly honest, my first reaction was wanting to message Miles, but I refrained. We hadn't spoken since I left his house all crying and shit. There were times I wanted to reach out. Not because I was necessarily into him, but because I just felt like he'd be helpful in situations like this. Plus, Miles was definitely into drag queens, so it would've been nice to talk to him about it.
Another thing I wanted to ask Miles about was what does one even wear to a drag show? Knowing Miles, he probably would've given me something of his to wear.
That night, while talking to Josh through my Airpods, I went into the deepest, darkest depths of my closet.
"I seriously have no idea what I should wear," I told him.
"Who cares?" was his incredibly helpful advice.
"I mean...me? I don't know." I stared at an array of button-up shirts that all looked pretty much identical.
"I'm probably just wearing whatever I put on for school tomorrow," Josh said.
"Yeah, well, you could wear a paper bag and still be hot."
Josh snorted. "I don't know about that, but I do know that you'll look good in whatever you wear."
I paused, and then tentatively asked, "What do you...find attractive about me?"
"What kind of question is that?" he asked.
I stared at my shirtless self in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of my bedroom door. I had a kind of lanky frame, whereas Josh had, well, abs. Josh had this effortless, lazy, inherently attractive look and overall vibe. I eyed a zit that had begun to form on my forehead and frowned.
"A super normal, nonchalant question," I said.
I could practically feel Josh rolling his eyes on the other line. "Connor..."
"Ugh, never mind." I cringed because I felt and sounded desperate.
"I think you're funny," Josh said then. "You're weird. Strangely bold. You're really smart and caring, too."
"Oh my god, none of that has to do with my looks! Am I someone that guys defend to their friends as, 'He has a really great personality'?"
I heard Josh's laugh through the phone. "Connor, you're hot. I think you're hot, okay? You're...sexy. Yup, I just used the word sexy. You're perfect. Alright?"
I laughed in spite of myself. "Sorry, I sound so insecure. Gross."
"Everyone's insecure," Josh said. "It's just not always the same thing that you're insecure about. Or they hide it really well."
"What are you insecure about?" I asked. "You know, besides the whole obvious being gay thing."
"Uh, I don't know. Lots of things. Like, sometimes I get insecure because I know you're smarter than me."
"Me?" I let out an incredulous laugh. "Dude, I'm an idiot."
"No you're not! You're in calc and physics and stuff. I could never pass those classes. Plus, I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I'm literally only good at soccer, but not good enough to do it professionally."
"I have no idea what I want to do with my life, either! And being good at those classes is just a different kind of intelligence. Like, I literally just found out that the game Fortnite is called that because it's a play on, like, a fortnight, a period of two weeks, and forts or whatever."
"That's a terrible example," Josh replied, "because I didn't know that until just now."
I had to laugh. "Sorry. Um...one time I accidentally gave myself a bloody nose? The door to my car got stuck, so I was yanking on it, and then it suddenly opened and my hand slipped and I punched myself in the face."
Josh chuckled. "That's pretty funny, actually. How long ago was this?"
"Not that long ago," I admitted. "But I'm just saying, I'm not some sort of genius. Everyone is dumb in different ways."
"I've done so much dumb shit, it's hard to choose just one."
"Try," I prompted him.
Josh was quiet for a bit, and then said, "Umm...okay. So, I was at this party like a year or two ago, and there were these cookies, right? I ate probably 3 of them before someone told me they had weed in them. I had never been high before, and I was sort of drunk, so I was freaking out. Apparently I blacked out and told everyone I had Spider-Man powers and tried to climb the walls and shit."
"That's funny but also...terrifying?" I responded. "Like, how do you not get scared you're gonna accidentally out yourself to everyone? That's why I barely drink."
"I mean, yeah, it's always a fear. I don't know, part of me thinks that sober me is so scared of people finding out that fucked-up me just kind of knows not to say anything. Maybe that's sad."
"Maybe," I said, even though I knew it was.
We talked on the phone for another hour or so until Josh went quiet.
"Are you there?" I asked. I checked my phone and saw that the call was still going.
"Goodnight," I said, mostly to myself, and hung up.