Why We Fight (At First Sight 4)

I glanced back over my shoulder to see if Marina would save me. Hell, I’d even take Jeremy at that moment.

But since god apparently had a personal vendetta against me, I was all alone.

I swallowed thickly as I turned back toward the many pairs of eyes that took me in, looking me up and down. The children were the hope for the future and blah, blah, blah, but they could also be judgmental bitches. I know because I was one not too long ago.

They continued to stare.

I cleared my throat and forced a smile on my face. “Hey, I’m Corey. I just started today. I hope to get to know all of you. I ask that you give me a bit of time to remember all your names. And if you ever need anything or have any questions, my door is always open—”

“How old are you?” a girl near the front asked. She was a skinny thing with brightly colored tattoos on her arms.

I blinked. “Um, twenty-three.”

“You don’t look it,” she said, sounding dubious. “You look like you’re fourteen.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Honey, it’s called the perfect skin care regimen taught to me by a drag queen. And genetics. Don’t feel bad that not everyone can look this good all the time.”

“Whoa,” she breathed. “Hard-core.”

A couple of the adults looked as if they were covering up laughter as I winced. I had to remember that I wasn’t at home. I had to be authoritative and look like I knew what I was talking about, even though I really didn’t. “Shit. Sorry. That’s not—”

“You know drag queens?” a larger boy asked me with wide eyes. He reminded me of Paul. “I want to try drag one day, but I don’t know if I’d be any good.”

“Too many,” I admitted. “My roommate is Helena Handbasket, who works at—”

The boy gasped dramatically. “You know Helena Handbasket?”

I squinted at him. “How the hell do you know Helena Handbasket? You better not be trying to sneak into the bar. You’re underage, and Daddy Charlie will kick your ass if you do.”

“Everyone knows Helena Handbasket,” Diego said, as if I was stupid. “She’s famous.”

I groaned inwardly. I was never going to tell Sandy about this. He would be more insufferable than he already was. “That’s—”

“Do you do drag?” another boy asked. He was black, and his head was shaved. He wore expertly applied eyeliner. Better than I could do at his age.

I struggled to keep up with the conversation. “No. In case you couldn’t tell, I get awkward in front of large groups of people—”

“What are you?” Kai asked.

This again. “Does it matter?”

They shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe we want to know someone working here knows what we’re going through. It’s not too much to ask.”

One of the case managers—a woman—finally decided to interject. “Hey, maybe we should just let Corey introduce himself without worrying about the little details.” I liked her. She could stay. The other two would face my wrath in this life or the next.

But Kai wasn’t having any of it. They acted as if they didn’t give a shit, but I could see the exact moment they decided to push. “It’s just a question,” they said, sounding innocent and sweet and filled with lies and evil. “I get crap every day for who I am. I don’t want that to happen here.”

Oh, this one was going to be trouble. “Do you really think I’d do that?”

Kai didn’t look put out at all. “I don’t know. I don’t know you, which is why I’m asking. We’re supposed to be inclusive, but queer people can be just as prejudiced as the heteros. I’m nonbinary. I’ve been told for years I need to pick a gender.”

“I’m bisexual,” Die

go said. “And I’ve had gay people tell me that I’m not really queer because I find women attractive. A girl a long time ago told me she would never date me because she knew I also fucked around with guys.”

Jesus Christ.

(Also, I had to stop myself from pointing out that they were kids, and no one should be fucking around with anyone, and that “a long time ago” to them was probably last month. But I kept that to myself.)