There was something so completely charming about their rambling speech. Also points for using the word “seduce.” I wasn’t not feeling seduced. What the hell. “I think we should do it. Your series idea. I mean, it can’t possibly make dating worse, right? And maybe it will help someone?”
Sidney pushed their hair back with one hand and stared at me steadily, almost as if part of them was being cool and part of them was totally nervous. “Are you sure? It was a ludicrous idea.”
“I kind of like it. Plus, you said you’d find the people for these dates, right?”
“I could,” they said carefully. “If you gave me some idea who you were interested in. Only if you’re sure this wouldn’t be terrible for you. And ethically I should tell you that I would be making money off your, um...” They cast around for a word. “Off your romantic journey. If you will.”
Across the room Mia kissed Ronnie’s cheek and Ronnie beamed. I knew I didn’t want the exact relationship they had, but some deep thing inside me wanted that spark of desire, that casual affection.
“I think we should try it. And I’m pretty easy. All genders, all ages.” I considered it. “Okay, over twenty-one. Not that I’m a huge drinker but I think I’d feel self-conscious around someone who couldn’t.”
Sidney’s lips twitched as if they weren’t sure if they should smile or not. “Are you serious right now?”
“Dude.”
There. They smiled. “Okay.”
“Good. And it’s okay I called you ‘dude’?”
“Yes. Thank you for asking.”
“All right, then. That’s settled. We’re doing a YouTube thing.” I gulped. “Oh god, what did I just agree to?”
They patted my arm. “Leave it to your spinster uncle. I’ll take care of everything.”
I forced myself to ignore the tingling still alerting my brain to the presence of their hand on my skin. “But wait, isn’t it better for ratings or something if the dates go really horribly? You have a conflict of interest!”
“Maybe, but it’s better for my fans if you have good experiences you can share with them. Even if they’re also awkward or strange at times. I’d love it if people came away from this series thinking that maybe things weren’t so bad out there in the world of romance.”
“Let’s...aim low,” I managed. Romance. Oh god. I had definitely not been mature enough for this sort of thing with Mason. But that was years ago. Decades in developmental time. The mid-twenties changed everything. Didn’t they? “Um, what if I’m like really, really bad at this? What if I fail you? That’s sort of my entire track record right now.”
Sidney’s hand tightened on my arm. “You can’t fail. If our goal is to do some shows, get word about this company out there, and facilitate you going on a few dates, there’s no metric for failure there. There’s no pressure. Anyway, why don’t you think about it for a few days? I’ll propose it to the sponsor and we can talk more when we see each other at drinks with Mia. All right?”
I looked at them, beyond the red frames, into eyes that were darker suddenly than I’d thought they were. “I left my last boyfriend at the altar. Are you sure you want to commit to a YouTube series with me?”
“I told you, I’m not interested in altars. I think we’re safe.”
It was probably just a mark of how weird the night had been, but I found myself thinking we’re safe in Sidney’s voice for the rest of the party and feeling a phantom warmth on my arm where they’d touched me.
Chapter Two
Drinks with the Marginalized Motherfuckers almost always happened at The Hole.
Technically it was The Hole in the Wall, which the gays called—obviously—The Gloryhole. Most people just called it The Hole. To be honest, it kind of resembled the proverbial hole, all brown wood paneling and a vague sense that it was bigger than expected once you were poking around in it.
Marginalized Motherfuckers didn’t have to poke around; we had a favorite table, a second favorite table, and a third choice, which Oscar had decreed could not be considered anyone’s anything-favorite. Despite Mia’s openness with Sidney, very few people ever stuck around long after we asked them for drinks. It had become an unfunny joke, The Drinks Curse. When you sensed a relationship was heading toward a dead end you might gently inquire, “When are they coming for drinks?” Shorthand for “When are you gonna give up already?”
Apparently heading that off at the pass, here Sidney was, at drinks before even meeting the man Mia wanted them to spend the rest of their life with. Alas, very tragic, the end before the beginning and so forth.
I realized I was about to launch into a round of verse about death and volunteered to buy the first round since no one else had shown up yet. “If a random stranger demands to know if you’re you, it’s probably Mason or Oscar,” I assured them.
They stood up. “How about I get the drinks and you wait for your friends?”
Which I supposed was a reasonable plan. Though I’m always uncomfortable when someone new buys me a drink. I know that’s a little backwards, but it ends up making me feel indebted to them in an endless-cycle-of-debt-repayment-debt-repayment way. No, but you bought last time. Yes, but you bought the time before that.
I realized Sidney had said something. “Um, sure, thanks.”
One corner of their mouth crept up. “I asked what you wanted.”
“Right. Shit. Sorry, I’m a little distracted.” I didn’t even know why. It was just drinks. And Sidney, while attractive and smart, didn’t date people, which was handy since neither did I, historically speaking. “I’ll have a Coke, thanks.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I was still watching their retreat when Oscar popped in as if from the ether. “That the one Mia wants to set up Mase with?”
“Seriously, how the hell do you do that?”
He frowned in Sidney’s direction, hovering over our second favorite table without taking a seat. “That’s the new person, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think I want to talk to new people today.”
I weighed a couple of replies—I didn’t think Sidney would be a drag on Oscar’s anxiety too badly, but drinks in general was a drag on his anxiety, so I also didn’t want to dismiss the possibility—before shrugging. “Next week?”
This got me a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Dec. Make my apologies.”
“Sure. Love ya, kid.”