OMG Queer by Various & Katherine Lynch & Radclyffe

Author:Various & Katherine Lynch & Radclyffe [Various & Lynch, Katherine & Radclyffe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay & Lesbian, Romance, Young Adult Fiction
ISBN: 9781602827233
Amazon: B008RSCPQ4
Goodreads: 15830186
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2012-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

*

On our six-month anniversary, Amelle suggests that we go to the Sleazy Queen. We haven’t been back since the night we met, and I remind her that there are reasons for our continued absence. Many reasons, in fact—most of them being bad music and cheap vodka and an eternally sticky carpet. But Amelle loves a bit of nostalgia, and if there’s one thing the past six months has taught me it’s that Amelle is extremely convincing. I’ll have to draw the line at tequila, though; nostalgia can be really bad for your constitution. When we get there she heads for the bar and I try to get us a seat.

The Sleazy Queen looks exactly the same as the last time we were here. The lights are low enough that everyone looks more attractive and less drunk than they really are, the optics are snowed with dust, every low table is occupied by glittering femmes or wide-elbowed butches or a little bit of both, and in the corner there’s a girl in a plaid shirt and hair waxed to a quiff. It’s exactly the fucking same. The girl is rubbing something against the surface of the table and when I squint up my eyes I see it’s a compass and then I feel dizzy and nauseous like I just huffed spray paint because it’s Bex.

I leave Amelle waiting to get served at the bar and I walk over to Bex’s table, standing there until she looks up. She doesn’t smile.

“Bex. Hey. How’s it going?” I lean down and hug her awkwardly, thumping my fist on her back.

“You know.”

I laugh. “No, I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

She doesn’t say anything else, just shrugs. She still hasn’t met my eye. Amelle walks over with a drink in each hand.

“Hey,” she says. She’s got her hair tied back and she’s wearing skinny jeans and there’s nothing peacock-related on her head, so I figure maybe Bex doesn’t recognize her.

“Bex, this is—”

“I know who it is.”

Amelle raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything.

“Can we join you?” I start to pull out a chair at her table.

“No thanks.”

I laugh. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

No one says anything. It’s a standoff of epic proportions; I wait for a tumbleweed to blow past.

“Forget it,” says Amelle. “Let’s just go.”

“Fine,” I say, and I take our untouched drinks from her hands and put them on the table and walk out of the bar without looking back.

In the street Amelle walks on ahead, craning her neck to look for a taxi, and I stop to rifle through my pockets for a light. I get that sixth sense of someone standing nearby, so I turn around and there’s Bex, scuffing her feet on the pavement and looking more than ever like a teenage boy.

“Um,” she says.

“Bex, seriously. Did you take six months out of your smoker’s lungs by running up those steps just to mumble at me?”

She keeps scuffing her feet on the pavement, and I’m getting annoyed at her and I’m just about to tell her good-bye when she says, really quietly, “I miss you.

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