Who We Could Be - Chelsea M. Cameron Page 0,35

and something sharp. Ginger, maybe?

“I think it’s a Moscow Mule,” Monty said, after taking a few sips. “But with something else. I don’t know, but it’s good. I’ll have to be careful or else I’m going to get white-girl wasted on this.”

“Same,” I said. We sipped and looked around. I kept thinking that we were going to have someone come up to us and ask for a queer card to be here, but it wasn’t happening so far. What was happening was getting constantly jostled by other people wanting drinks.

“Do you want to go find somewhere less crowded?” I yelled to Monty, and she nodded.

Since I didn’t want her to get swept into the crowd, I grabbed her hand and towed her behind me as we attempted to move through a whole lot of people who didn’t want to let us through. I plowed my way forward anyway, and Monty’s fingers kept twitching in my hand.

Somehow, I spotted a table that was at chest height and perfect for two people to set their drinks on. I made my way toward it and set my cup down, claiming this table in the name of bestfriendimoon.

“That’s better,” I said. We were kind of tucked away, so the music wasn’t so loud and there weren’t as many people. Monty’s eyes kept flitting around the room.

“You okay?” I asked. Maybe this had been a bad idea. “Do you want to go?” Someone pushed past me to join their friends at the next closest table, so I had to scoot closer to Monty, our arms touching. They were both bare due to the outfits. Plus, it was kinda sweaty in here.

“No, I’m fine. Just don’t feel like we belong here. I’m scared that we’re going to get booted.”

“I mean, they’re not going to check out queer cards, if there were such a thing. You come to Pride with me every year.”

“That’s different. I feel like I’m an invader.”

She finished the rest of her drink, even though she said she was going to drink it slow. Monty looked down into her cup and then at me.

“Want another?”

I was still working on my first, but I nodded my head. Something was off with her, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I could sort of see what she was saying, but weren’t we being good allies by supporting the bar and buying drinks? It wasn’t like we were here to make fun of people or be homophobic or transphobic.

While I sipped at my drink, I tried to curl back into a corner so I wasn’t taking up any space.

“Hey, you here alone?” a voice said. I looked up to find a person with long dark hair and an eyebrow piercing smiling at me. If I had to guess, I’d say she was a few years older than me and clearly lifted a few weights. Her shoulders were barely contained by her tank. I wanted to congratulate her on all her work, but my mouth was completely dry.

“I’m Lucinda,” she said, leaning closer to me. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Oh. OH.

She was hitting on me. The realization hit me like a train and I almost fell over, even though I was leaning on the table. I was getting hit on at a gay bar and I didn’t really know what to do in this situation.

Before I could come up with anything to tell this person I was a heterosexual, an arm snaked around me and a soft voice spoke right next to my ear.

“Hey, babe, who’s this?”

I almost fell over again, but Monty’s arm was tight around me so I didn’t go anywhere.

“Oh, sorry,” Lucinda said, backing off. “Nice to meet you.” And then she was gone, and I was dizzy and wondering if this was real life.

MONTY

I couldn’t put a name to the feeling that blazed through me when I saw someone talking to Tessa. It was hot and unpleasant and it completely consumed me until I could barely breathe. I walked away from the bar, completely abandoning the drinks, and what I did next made no sense, but I had moved without thinking.

My arm wound around her, pulling her close and I looked right at the other person, telling her with my entire being that she was treading too close to something that did not belong to her. Her eyes went wide and she left, but I would have fought her if she persisted. I would have ripped her to shreds and not have