Kyle smiles. “I love you.” He claps his hands together. “So I have news.”

“Are you pregnant?” I ask.

Clem snorts, but stops the moment she realizes we’re still in a weird place.

Kyle gives a thin, impatient smile. “No, we are not expecting, but my parents are leaving town next weekend to visit my great-aunt Connie in Del Rio, and I, Kyle Meeks, have decided to host my one and only high school party.”

Our table falls silent. “I’m sorry,” Hannah says. “But did you have a stroke? Did an alien species invade your body?”

Beside Kyle, Alex bounces with excitement. “This is the real deal, y’all. A real party with real booze.”

Kyle takes Alex’s hand. “We’ve already made a plan for what parts of the house will be off-limits and who’s on our invite list. Think of it as well-designed chaos.”

“Ahhhh.” Hannah nods. “You know how our peers love an organized house party.”

“I’m sure it will be great,” Clem says.

Hannah reaches into her pocket and slams down a crumpled-up red flyer. “Not as great as this.”

Clem picks up the paper and reads, “All-ages night at the Hideaway! Bring a friend! Bring ten! Amateur Divas of Drag Contest! Cash prize!”

Her eyes light up as she turns to Hannah. “Is this that bar you were telling me about? With the Dolly drag queens?”

“Oh my God,” says Alex. “I’ve never been to a drag show. I can’t go to college without having been to a drag show. That’s like showing up to college a virgin.”

“Virginity is a construct,” I pipe in, hoping that no one notices the flush in my cheeks when I think about how maybe I never went far enough with Lucas. Or maybe we went too far. Who knows?

“Well, we’re going to this thing on Saturday,” Hannah proclaims and then points at me. “And you’re coming with.”

I don’t want to go. All I want to do is spend every weekend until graduation holed up in my room with reruns of Fiercest of Them All. “I guess it sounds fun,” I finally say.

“It’s a date then,” says Kyle.

Fifteen

On Friday morning, when I walk into first period, Tucker hands over his phone. “Your number. I need it.”

I look down at his lock screen to find a picture of a dog wearing a Princess Leia costume. “Who’s your girlfriend?”

“That’s Duke, and he’s a very good boy,” he tells me.

“In drag.”

He grins, and I realize that he’s got one of those goofy, lopsided smiles when he’s not trying to be cool. “Leia’s my favorite. Duke’s more of a Han, but I dressed as Han. I needed a Leia.”