But we did nothing. Because Matty was on a mission.
“So,” Matty said. “Kori. Beautiful Kori. Darling, sweet Kori. Is there a special someone in your life that we possibly need to meddle about so that we can be intrusively involved in your courtship process? I do hope that answer is yes, and even if it’s not, you must at least tell me your type so that I can be on the lookout. For all I know, I’ve passed the love of your life on the streets when I could have stopped him and showed him that picture I carry of you on my phone. You know, the one where you fell asleep while studying and was almost drowned in your soup bowl. So precious.”
Kori looked panicked for a moment. Then her features relaxed and h
er lips curved wickedly.
And I knew what she was going to do. “Get up,” I grunted at Darren. “Oh my god, you have to get up!”
“Why?” Darren asked, frowning down at me.
“We have to stop her! We have to—”
“Darren and Sandy weren’t actually together until two weeks ago because they were faking their relationship the whole time to try and save a gay bar,” Kori rushed out. “And everyone in this room aside from parents and grandparents knew about it.”
“Oh sweat balls,” I sighed.
Matty, Larry, Sherry, and Nana all turned slowly to look at us.
“Um,” I said. “Hey. How are you? You all look good. So good.”
Darren lay his face on my neck, breathing against my throat. “We’re doomed,” he murmured as the parents and one grandparent began to yell over the top of each other at us, each sounding more incredulous than the last.
And you know what?
It was okay.
It was good.
It was better than good, because even as the overdramatic outrage of our family poured over us, even when Paul and Vince jumped in and tried to defend us while also throwing us under the bus, and even when Kori sat back against the couch, a pleased look on her lips in the face of her obvious betrayal, I could feel the smile Darren pressed into my neck, the warm weight of him on top of me, and I knew that regardless of how we’d gotten here, we’d done it together. And would continue to do so for a long, long time, if I had any say in it.
Was it perfect?
No. Of course not.
But I was a queen. And he was the Homo Jock King.
We’d make it work.
We had a grave to spit on, after all.