Drag Teen

by Jeffery Self

  “Deal.”

  Some powerful-looking couple pulled him into a conversation, but he shouted over to me as I walked away, “Come to the after-party! Bring your friends! And your family!”

  “My family isn’t here,” I told him. But I said that if Seth and Heather weren’t too tired, we’d stop by.

  When I got to the alley, I found it was massively crowded, with everyone’s supporters huddled around. It was funny how easily I could spot who was there for who, like the group of tough-looking people with piercings in places I didn’t know you could pierce, who were clearly awaiting Roxanne Roll. I scanned the sea of people for Heather, Seth, and Tina … and when I spotted them, my jaw almost hit the pavement.

  Because it wasn’t just Heather, Seth, and Tina.

  It was my parents too.

  My mom and dad. Here.

  Now.

  “Surprise!” I couldn’t hear her but I could read Tina’s lips as I snaked my way over to them. They were smiling—visibly uncomfortable, but smiling nonetheless.

  “Mom? Dad?”

  “Hi, JT,” Mom said. She and my dad couldn’t have looked more out of place in this scene, or in New York City in general.

  “What the … how did you know I was … I’m sorry, can someone explain what’s going on?”

  Tina cackled and shoved herself in between my parents, throwing her arms around them as if they were old friends.

  “JT. After you left my house, I thought, damn, that’s a kid who needs a mama and daddy to tell him he’s going to be okay, not just some looney-tune old country singer. And after we’d had that talk about my folks and your folks, I just thought, what the hell? I’ll track ’em down and fly them up to see the show.”

  I couldn’t believe the words I was hearing.

  I turned to my parents. “But weren’t you surprised when you found out I wasn’t in Daytona but in New York? Wait. Am I grounded?”

  Dad shook his head. “We weren’t all that surprised that you weren’t actually in Daytona. To be honest, I reckon the idea that you would have wanted to go there in the first place was the weirdest part of all this. And you aren’t grounded. You’re going to be working your butt off at the gas station all summer, but you’re not grounded.”

  I looked back at Heather and Seth for some semblance of reality, but they looked as bowled over with shock as I was.

  “Besides, you’re going to need that spending money at school, come fall,” Mom added.

  “But I can’t. I mean, I didn’t win and I …”

  Tina stepped toward me with a look of mischief in her eyes. “Naw, you’re going to school, JT. You might not have won over the dumb old judges of this pageant, but you won over dumb old me. You’re going to college and I’m paying for it.”

  “WHAT?!” I shouted so loudly that everyone turned and looked at me.

  Taking in the scene, someone’s mom asked loudly, “Hey, is that Tina Travis?”

  A couple of older gay guys pushed up toward Tina, losing their minds with excitement.

  “Holy crap! You’re Tina Travis!” a middle-aged man squealed like a child meeting Mickey Mouse. “Barry, get over here! It’s Tina Travis! I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am, but my husband just loves you!”

  Tina was basking in this star worship. She might have been one of the most grounded and levelheaded people I’d ever met, but she still had time to enjoy her fame. She stepped into the forming mob of excited fans, leaving me bewildered and overwhelmed.

  “I can’t believe this. I don’t even know what to say. She …”

  Seth stepped up beside me. “Sees how special you are, JT.”

  Mom looked nervous. I could tell she had something to say, but was afraid to speak up.

  “You okay, Mom?” I asked.

  She grabbed my hand, and for the first time since Nana’s funeral, I saw tears in her eyes.

  “We are so proud of you. You were so, so, so good up there, JT.”

  She pulled me in to hug her, and while I was in her arms, my dad wrapped his around the both of us. This was my definition of surreal.

  “We love you so much. I’m sorry we have such a crappy way of showing it.”

  If somebody had told me a year before that I’d be standing in an alley in New York City, outside a drag pageant that I’d competed in, wearing Tina Travis’s wig, hugging my parents and hearing them say they were proud of me … I never would have believed it.

  But that’s the funny thing about life, I guess.

  You can’t believe it till you live it.

  DARYL’S LOFT WAS REALLY COOL, like nowhere I had ever been. It was a former factory or something that some gay guys with good taste made into a swanky apartment with super-high ceilings and amazing views of the Empire State Building.

  All of the contestants were there, give or take a few who’d gotten really pissed about being cut after the opening number. There was a bar, but Daryl made it abundantly clear that no one under twenty-one would be allowed to drink in his home. I respected that, unlike almost of the contestants there (and Heather). There was room enough for a dance floor and DJ, where a few drag queens and the people who loved them were already dancing.

  “Well, this is different,” Mom said, looking around as we stepped off the elevator that opened directly into Daryl’s loft.

  “God almighty, you’re telling me all of this place is his?” Dad was in disbelief. “I thought New York apartments were supposed to be tiny little holes in the wall.”

  “Not if you’re rich.” Tina stepped off the elevator. “That’s the thing about New York City: It’s a dump if you’re poor, and absolute heaven if you’re rich. Who’s hungry? I see sliders!”

  Tina led the way toward a table of food, which I was exceedingly thrilled to find. I filled my plate to the point of it being embarrassing and forced Seth to hold one of my egg rolls so I wouldn’t look too ridiculous. Heather wandered off to gawk at the apartment.

  “So. You think you’d like living in the Big Apple, JT?” Tina asked, with half a slider in her mouth.

  “Oh yeah. I think that I’d love it.”

  Mom and Dad exchanged a somewhat sad look, and it weirdly made me feel good to imagine them missing me.

  “What about you, Seth? You going to join him up here?”

  Seth hesitated and began to speak, but I stopped him.

  “He doesn’t know that yet, Tina. Come on. Don’t put him on the spot. We’re seventeen … the most we can do is enjoy each other and the moment. Right?”

  I could see Seth was a little surprised to hear those words come out of my mouth—but with a pleased expression, he placed his arm around my waist and agreed.

  “Mrs. Travis?” Mom asked timidly.

  “Tina, for God’s sake!”

  “Ha. Okay. Tina. Would you mind if we got a photo with you? Nobody at home is ever going to believe any of this.”

  Tina took out her phone, opened up the camera, and shoved it into the hand of a random person walking by.

  “It’d piss me off if you didn’t ask!” She got in between my parents, Seth and me squeezing in beside them. “And hey, you! Take it vertical so I can put it on my Instagram. That’s what it’s called, right?”

  I laughed and said yeah. Then I said, “Wait! Heather, get over here!”

  Heather looked up from the food table, where she was stopped in awe, like someone who’d just stumbled upon a pot of gold. “Coming!”

  She got in next to us as Tina counted off the picture. One, two, three. She made the stranger keep taking alternatives. “Just in case you can see my turkey neck,” she explained, grabbing her saggy neck.

  After our spur-of-the-moment photo shoot ended, the music changed to something slow, and groups of people moved onto the dance floor.

  “JT, let’s dance.” Seth tried pulling me behind him, but I protested.

  “No, I’ll look silly.”

  Seth put his hand on his hip and cocked his head to the side like he was posing for a nineties com
edy album cover.

  “You just spent two hours walking around in a seventy-something-year-old woman’s wig and clothes in front of all these people, and now you’re worried about looking silly?”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  “I heard that!” Tina shouted without looking up from her iPhone, where she was busily trying out different filters. “We won’t post it with X Pro II. I look awful in that one.”

  “Come on!” Seth pulled me behind him, and when we hit the floor, we began to dance. Before long, my parents followed, dancing together in what was the first time I’d ever seen my parents dance. Or touch each other, for that matter.

  “This is all so bizarre,” I whispered.

  “I know. Isn’t it awesome?” Seth rested his forehead on mine.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Heather talking to a guy, one of the only guys there who didn’t appear to be gay. She was laughing and flirty, and so was he. He seemed nervous the whole time they were talking, but then I saw Heather boldly grab his hand and pull him behind her. They began to dance, with her leading. We caught each other’s glances and she shrugged, mouthing, “Oh well. Why not?”

  Across the dance floor, I saw Milton and Red dancing together; Milton led, with Red towering over him as usual.

  Tina didn’t join us on the dance floor, or else it really would’ve been the perfect way to end this story. Instead she stayed back on the sidelines, surrounded by adoring gay guys, drag queens, and drag teens, signing autographs and taking selfies with all of them. She was in utter heaven.

  I caught eyes with Tash, who had the nicest smile on his face. He was dancing with Pip, who appeared to be really “feeling the music.” Tash blew me a kiss.

  “You know what’s going to suck?” I asked, my forehead still pressed against Seth’s.

  “Oh good. I’m glad you can still find something that sucks in this situation.”

  “Hey!” I playfully smacked Seth’s butt. He chuckled. “I was just going to say that it’s gonna suck having to go back to Florida, and real life, after all of this.”

  Seth looked around the room, surrounded by dancing couples of all genders, sexualities, appearances, races, tribes.

  “Naw. It’s not.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No. Because now we know what’s out here. Now we know that no matter how low we ever feel, someday, this wonderful world of wonderfully weird and beautiful people, all of it, it’s ours.”

  I looked around the room. He was right. Someday this would be my world. Sure, I’d be returning to Florida, to high school, to the gas station, but I’d been in the world I dreamed of being in. I’d found it, proving to myself that it actually did exist. And not only that, I also felt really and truly in the moment. Sometimes you have to wait a while to live in the exact world you dream of living in, and even then, it’s never going to be exactly what you dreamed of once you get there. But the most you can do is be the person you dream of being, and once you find that person, the one who, no matter what happens, can dig deep inside himself and feel okay, you’ve found your world; you’ve found your otherwise.

  And, finally, I’d found mine.

  It’s weird writing acknowledgments, because it feels like you’re writing an Oscar acceptance speech, except you’re not nominated for an Oscar. Or even a Daytime Emmy for that matter. Major thanks to David Levithan, whose books made me want to write books, and who I never imagined would end up being my editor. Equally big thanks to my reps: Scott Mendel, Kara Baker, and Cullen Conly. And to all the folks that make up my little circle of inspiration and support: Cole Escola, Jim Hansen, Drew Droege, Jordan Firstman, Bryan Safi, Orlando Soria, Edouard de Lachomette, Augustus Prew, and my wonderful parents, Scott and Nancy.

  Jeffery Self is a writer, actor, and vlogger. If his face is familiar, it may be because he’s appeared in numerous films and television shows, including 30 Rock, Desperate Housewives, and 90210. Or you’re one of the millions of people who’ve viewed him on YouTube. Or you used to date him, or sit behind him in bio class. Drag Teen is his first YA novel.

  For more about Jeffery, check him out on Twitter at @JefferySelf and online at jefferyself.tumblr.com and www.youtube.com/user/JefferySelf.

  Copyright © 2016 by Jeffery Self

  All rights reserved. Published by PUSH, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. PUSH and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available

  First edition, May 2016

  Cover photo by Michael Frost

  Cover design by Carol Ly

  Author photo by Dan Collopy

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-82994-6

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.