She clicks her tongue. “You’d be surprised.”

I start to ask her what she means, but the theme music begins to play as Carmelo Santiago in full drag takes the stage of the live recording in some huge theater all the way out in Hollywood. “Hello, and welcome to the sixteenth season finale of Fiercest of Them All. I’m your host, Carmelo Santiago, and tonight’s the night we crown our queen. Isn’t that right, ladies?”

The lush, red curtain behind Carmelo lifts to display every single one of the eliminated queens from this season, each one of them decked out in their best signature drag. There’s a wide array, including Marjorie Simpson, who specializes in fandom drag, Betty Deadly, who’s known for her spooky goth look, Sheyoncé, who’s an infamous Beyoncé impersonator from Vegas, and Angela Dolittle, known for being crowned Miss Southern Belle from New Orleans.

For the next fifty-five minutes, I watch as Carmelo interviews the eliminated queens, takes audience questions, and announces lesser titles like Miss Congeniality. The top three queens—Cinderhella, Ruby Slippers, and Mimi Mee—each lip-synch to a song of their choosing, and it’s quickly clear that Ruby and Mimi are the top contenders.

The two queens hold hands as Cinderhella is eliminated, and I find myself reaching for Clem’s hand. She doesn’t flinch when I squeeze.

“Mimi, Mimi, Mimi, Mimi,” I chant under my breath.

“America, your newest reigning queen is . . .” Carmelo pauses dramatically, everyone in the audience and at home hanging on her every word. “The incomparable, the beautiful Ruby Slippers!”

“Turn it off!” I snap. It’s the same thing Dad does when the Texas Rangers lose a game. “Turn off the damn television.” Watching your fave lose is one thing. Watching their opponent win is actual torture. I don’t need to see Ruby’s tearful acceptance. I don’t need to hear about how they were just a gay boy in Chicago, searching for acceptance. We’re all searching, Ruby!

Clementine fumbles as she hunts for the remote. The music on the television crescendos as Ruby is crowned and Hannah marches right over to the TV and unplugs it from the wall.

I cross my arms over my chest. “There was a button on the side.”

“Whatever. It’s off.” She goes back over to the couch to take Clem’s hand. “Walk me home?”

Clem looks to me and I nod. I’d rather be alone anyway.

Hannah’s normally furrowed brow softens. “Sorry about Mimi, Waylon.”

My truck rumbles along the dark road at the edge of town, the sky above milky with clouds. After Clementine left with Hannah, Mom texted to say she’d be working late and not to wait up, so it was just me on a Friday night and barely ten o’clock. Suddenly being alone didn’t sound so great.