Stay Gold - Tobly McSmith Page 0,39

my ear and leans in. “Having fun?”

“Maybe,” I admit.

“I’m a fun guy, Georgia.”

“Prove it,” I say with a mischievous smile.

“OK,” he says, then grabs my hand, leading me off the dance floor.

PONY, 9:17 P.M.

I’m either the bravest guy at Hillcrest or the dumbest.

I stay a couple steps behind Kenji and Jerry as we enter Jake’s house. This is enemy territory. It’s a freaking mansion, packed with rowdy kids. The place smells like expensive furniture and cheap beer. People are scattered around in small groups, talking and laughing. To the left, there’s a room that looks like a club, complete with a DJ.

Kenji heard about the party when we were at Sonic last night and invited me. Parties aren’t my thing—I get overwhelmed and bored—but I figured Georgia would be here. And seeing how Jake is now my sworn enemy, I need to know what I’m up against. I look around at the sparkly chandeliers and football field–size television. I’m screwed.

On the bright side, I’m here with my new friends. Guys’ night. Last night was awesome—after the game, we pigged out at Sonic and made dirty jokes. We even talked to some girls from Plano, in town for the game. They had no interest in our witty banter, but it didn’t matter to me. Getting to hang out with guys and talk to girls—who all see me as a guy—is exactly what I have wanted.

Today was brutal. I spent most of the day separating Ted London’s possessions into piles and thinking about Georgia. Repeatedly going over the events of last night: meeting her mom, getting misgendered by said mom, Georgia going cold on me when I mentioned her mom, and Jake. Stellar night.

“Let’s find the booze,” Jerry says, and we follow him toward the kitchen. He’s making snide comments to almost everyone we pass. It’s clear that Jerry is the funny guy at school. And Kenji is the tall and handsome guy. All the girls are transfixed on him, but he is shy. Not Jerry. He’s making farting noises to a group of girls. He needs some help.

I grab a beer (which tastes like moldy bread but is a manly selection) and start wandering around the house. It’s not every day that you get to see how the one percent lives. There’s a study full of expensive and untouched books. The dust in the room makes me sneeze. I head into the formal dining room, which contains real art in expensive frames. And tablecloths. I try to imagine what a dinner looks like for this family. Much different from mine, that’s for sure.

I want to play a few rounds of Big Buck Hunter in the game room, but I’m looking for someone. And then, I turn a corner and see her. Dancing with her eyes closed. Georgia moves with confidence, like she likes her body. She’s beautiful. I could stand here all night.

She opens her eyes and locks them with mine. Again. The electricity pours through me like it did the first day. My heart races. This is why I’m here. She smiles and waves. I think she signals for me to come over, but Jake moves in and starts dancing with her. I can only see his back and backward baseball cap.

I have spent the past couple days in this dream fantasyland where the popular cheerleader falls for the secretly trans guy. The against-all-odds love story. It’s pathetic.

I came here to size up my competition. Well, he’s right in front of me. Jake is rich, good-looking, fun, and a real guy. Not a freak like me. I can hear Max’s voice in my head, yelling at me for saying that, but it’s how I feel.

I quick-walk back to the kitchen, looking for Kenji and Jerry, but they are nowhere to be found. I pull out my phone and text: HELP. I’m at party. Big crush on a girl. But she’s dancing with another guy. What would Rocky do?

The typing bubble immediately pops up.

ROCKY: WHAAAAAAA?

ROCKY: Go talk to another girl, duh! YOU GOT THIS.

Good plan. I scan the kitchen—no girls. Wait, there’s one. She’s in the corner, on her phone with disinterested eyes and wildly curly hair. She absentmindedly twists a curl between her finger and scrolls on her phone with her other hand.

I need to be smooth. And calm. Too bad I am neither. My palms are sweating. I wipe them on my jeans and walk over to the sink. I rearrange a few bottles. Look in a drawer. Open