Music From Another World - Robin Talley Page 0,101
same way. He talked about Anita Bryant and John Briggs, and how we all had to work together to stop Prop 6.
He was literally giving us orders in the middle of a huge party, but no one minded. His were the kind of orders we wanted to follow.
Mostly, though, he talked about coming out. He said all gay people should come out, to everyone. He said there could never be equality until the whole world knew how many gay people there really were.
I never thought of that before, but it makes sense. If everyone was out, no one would have to lie.
But it still didn’t seem possible. As far as I could tell, he might as well have been describing some magical land from a fantasy story. Even if there was a woman walking around today with a sign about loving her gay son, she had to be one in a thousand. Or a million.
Just telling me was a big deal for Peter. And when Tammy’s family found out about her, she had to leave her entire life behind.
I wondered if Harvey’s words were making her uneasy. But when I glanced over, there were tears in her eyes…and she was beaming. As I was about to ask if she was all right, the crowd erupted into another cheer.
“WOO-HOO!” Tammy shouted along with the rest of them.
She looked back at me, her smile as bright as ever, and when she saw me turned her way, she reached for my hand and threaded her fingers through mine, her smile widening.
For a second, I thought I was imagining it. She seemed so casual about it, I wasn’t even sure it was really happening. Until she turned back to the stage, and I screwed up the courage to look down.
There it was. Tammy and I were holding hands. Right in the middle of the street.
I didn’t know what to do. No one else seemed to have noticed, but…did this mean something? What did it mean?
My fingers twitched. Tammy must’ve thought I was squeezing her hand, because she squeezed back and smiled at me again.
Harvey finished his speech, and the crowd let out its biggest, wildest cheer of the day. I pulled my hand out of Tammy’s to clap along before she could notice I was shaking. She glanced at me for a second, and now she looked a little uncertain.
“Sharon?” She had to lean in close so I could hear her. Very close.
Close enough that she could’ve kissed me. Or I could’ve kissed her.
“Hey,” she began. “I, ah…”
Why was I thinking this way? Did I want to kiss her?
I did. Oh, God, I did, I did, I did.
The crowd surged around us, thousands of people moving in every direction, laughing and pushing and shouting. I couldn’t see Tammy in the throng, and suddenly, I realized just how lost I was. In every way there was to be lost.
I started to run.
“SHARON!” I heard her shout, but I didn’t stop moving.
Running wasn’t easy in that swarm of happy, cheering people. I had to duck under arms and over feet, darting around couples with their arms around each other’s shoulders and between groups of men and women holding beer cans overhead. It was too loud for me to make out individual sounds, much less individual footsteps, so I had no way of knowing if Tammy was following me, but when I reached the sidewalk and felt a hand on my arm, I knew without having to look that it was her.
“Sharon, wait.” She wasn’t holding tightly—I could’ve pulled away if I’d tried—but I stopped, anyway. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” All I felt in that moment was fear, but somehow, anger was what came out. “You—you think you can just come here and—”
“I—You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“You showed up out of nowhere, and now everything’s different. You put on this huge act for everyone, saying whatever they want to hear—and I don’t know where I fit, with you or with anyone else, and I can’t—”