Why We Fight (At First Sight Book 4)

by TJ Klune

  “Jesus fucking Christ.”

  “By the time I got back out, the room was empty. I figured he was gone or still back in with his doctor, and I thought about waiting. But that seemed a little….”

  “Creepy?” I supplied helpfully.

  Charlie glared at me. “I was going to say forward.”

  “That works too.”

  “But it didn’t matter, because as soon as I went outside, he was there sitting on a bench under a tree. As soon as he saw me, he stood up and all but demanded that I take him to lunch.” Charlie reached up and rubbed his jaw. “Haven’t been able to shake him since.”

  I laughed, delighted. “Like you’d want to.”

  He smiled ruefully. “I suppose. And maybe I was grouchy about it first, but I knew I couldn’t waste time anymore. After my marriage dissolved, I… went a little wild. I told myself I wasn’t going to be tied down again. And then Vaguyna Muffman came into my world, all sequins and feathers and an ass like you wouldn’t believe.” He looked down at his hands. “I should have done more. For her. You regret all the chances you don’t take, some more than others. She knew, though, I think. She’d be happy for me.”

  “I know she would,” I told him. “Robert’s pretty great, huh?”

  “He is,” Charlie agreed. He glanced over at me. “Armor, kiddo. My jacket. My camera. Your… you. It’s okay to have it. But don’t let it be all you know.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He rolled his eyes. “That I find hard to believe. Obtuse, maybe, but not clueless. You’re smarter than the rest of us combined. If Paul and Sandy can do what they did, I expect you to do the same.”

  “It sounds like you’re trying to pimp me out. I won’t have it, Charlie.”

  He snorted. “Of course not, dear.” He opened his mouth to say something else but then closed it and shook his head.

  Though I’d probably regret it, I asked, “What?”

  “It’s—I don’t know. You know when you meet someone, and you know them from somewhere, but for the life of you, you can’t remember from where?”

  “Sure,” I said slowly. “Happens to the best of us.”

  He looked frustrated. “At the wedding, when Jeremy came, I could have sworn I’d seen him before.”

  I blinked. “Wait, what? Really? Where?”

  “I don’t know. But he looked familiar. Could just be my mind playing tricks on me.” His lips curved. “He’s hot, though.”

  “You’re dating his father,” I hissed at him, horrified. “You can’t just say things like that!”

  “I speak only the truth—”

  I threw my hands up. “I hate this. I hate everything about this. I’m done with this conversation. You—”

  A light began to blink up in the corner of the Queen’s Lair.

  Charlie laughed at me. “Showtime. How convenient. I’m sure whatever else you were going to blather on about would have been not even remotely pointless.” He picked up the mic sitting next to the camera. He switched it on and blew into it. People from below us began to cheer, knowing what was about to begin.

  I muttered threats under my breath as I leaned forward to watch the show. It wasn’t going to be the same without the others here, but at least I could forget all the life lessons Charlie had just laid out for me. Ah, the spoils of youth.

  And I really did forget—mostly—when instead of the queen from Phoenix bursting out onto the stage, a familiar purr echoed around the bar as a leg clad in red fishnets stuck out from behind the curtain, long and slender. “The bitch is back,” Helena Handbasket growled.

  The crowd went nuts.

  I turned wide-eyed to Charlie. He grinned at me as he muffled the mic against his chest. “Told you that you needed to be here tonight. Surprise, Kori.”

  The curtains parted as the lights flashed. Helena Handbasket burst out onto the stage. She was fierce and fabulous, and it hit me then that even though it’d only been a couple of weeks, I’d missed my friends fiercely.

  “Damn right!” she crowed into the microphone. “Did you cocksuckers think you could ever be rid of me?” She licked the length of the mic as everyone screamed at her. “I thought not. And if you did, go fuck yourself. Because even though my vacation was restful and filled with me getting… filled, I couldn’t stay away forever. So I return to you, well rested and well fucked, both as the power bottom and the power top that I am. My boo can attest to that.”

  “Jesus Christ,” a voice filled with familiar disdain said from behind me. “I told her not to say that. I have a fucking reputation to maintain.”

  I whirled around.

  There, standing in the Queen’s Lair, the door closing behind them, were Paul and Vince Auster and the Homo Jock King, a constipated look on his disgustingly handsome face.

  I almost fell down trying to get to them. I did lose a shoe, but I’d worry about that later. Vince caught me as I jumped at him, wrapping those big arms around me as Paul squawked when I accidentally kicked him in the junk.

  “You bastards!” I cried into Vince’s ear. “What the hell!”

  “Hi, Kori,” Vince said happily, squeezing me so tightly my back cracked. “We came back from our honeymoon early! Sandy said you were sad, and I know how much you like it when I hug you, so here I am.”

  Goddammit. I loved that asshole. I pulled back to glare at him, my legs still wrapped around his hips. “You should have told me.”

  “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Paul said, still holding his balls. “Also, keep your feet away from me. They’re freakishly strong, and I’m sure I just lost a testicle.” He laughed when Vince set me down and I went to him. He wrapped an arm around me, kissing the side of my head. “Hey, girl. Looking good.”

  I ignored the burning in my eyes. It’d only been two weeks. “You too,” I managed to say. “You look… weirdly tan. Like you should have a mustache and be saying inappropriate things to teenagers still in high school.”

  He shoved me away. “That’s it. Moment over. Get the hell off me.”

  I turned to the Homo Jock King. “Darren.”

  He glared at me.

  I waited.

  He sighed and opened his arms.

  When one gets an invitation from a King (asshole though he may be), one takes it. “It’s good to see you,” he muttered in my hair. “Sandy missed you. I didn’t.”

  “You’re a liar,” I whispered in his ear.

  He grunted but held on for a moment longer before letting me go.

  “Did we get her?” I heard Helena say from below.

  Charlie glanced back at us before raising the mic to his lips. “We did. Good job, Helena.”

  “Damn fucking right! And oh, my babies, I have so many things to tell you. But first, let me take you back to a different time. When things made more sense. When the world was young and we didn’t have a single care. When a former Mouseketeer all but flashed us her cooch.”

  The crowd went nuts as Christina Aguilera’s “Dirrty” started playing overhead.

  And just like that, all was right again.

  In those moments that followed, I barely remembered what Charlie had said at all.

  Chapter 2: Teenagers are Terrifying Creatures Who Exist to Cause Chaos

  I YAWNED as I came into the kitchen early Monday morning, my skinny tie loose at my throat. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep the night before, nervous about my first day at Phoenix House. I didn’t do very well with starting new anything, but today was a pretty big deal for me.

  Sanford Stewart was not a morning person. He’d told me he was a creature of the night and that he shouldn’t be seen in the early morning light unless it was by someone he was kicking out from the night before. Which is why it was so surprising he was already in the kitchen, dressed for work and whistling cheerfully as he poured me a cup of coffee. The radio was on, playing NPR. I wasn’t too fond of the news these days.

  “Good morning!” he trilled far too loudly.
r />   “Blargh,” I told him as I slumped into a chair at the table.

  “Indeed.” He poured a terrible amount of creamer into the coffee. He knew me so well. He turned and set the mug in front of me, as well as a small paper sack that I hadn’t seen him carrying. “There,” he said, sounding pleased with himself. “You missed Hot Jogger Guy again this morning.”

  Ah, yes. Hot Jogger Guy, Sandy’s current obsession, much to Darren’s consternation. Some random dude who jogged by our house almost every morning wearing nothing but tiny shorts and running shoes. If asked, Sandy wouldn’t be able to describe him from the neck up, mostly because he was focused on the neck down and the way his ass and junk bounced in his shorts. I hadn’t seen him yet because he always came way too early.

  I poked the sack before going for the coffee. “What’s that?”

  “Your lunch,” he said, still standing above me expectantly.

  I turned slowly to look up at him. “My what?”

  He grinned. “I packed you a lunch for your first day of work.”

  I groaned. “Why?”

  “Because it’s a nice thing to do,” he explained patiently. “And because I woke up really early. Jet lag.”

  I took a sip of coffee. It tasted like getting punched in the face with hazelnut. It was perfect. “You were in Vegas. You took a car.”

  He shrugged and went back to the counter. “It’s the thought that counts. Say thank you, Corey.”

  “Thank you, Corey.”

  He ignored my morning snark. “I’m just so thrilled. I imagine this is what having kids is like, and being proud and such. Not that I’ll ever really know that about children because they are terrifying, and I won’t have them in my house unless I’m forced to.”

  I wasn’t awake enough for this. “I’m glad you’re using me as a proxy, then.”

  “Exactly. I’m pleased we’re on the same page. I made you a peanut butter sandwich with bananas in it. I don’t know why. Just go with it. And if you throw it away because it sounds disgusting, don’t tell me. My feelings will be hurt.”

  I grimaced at the lunch bag. A sandwich with bananas on it was most likely an affront to god.

  “There’s also carrot sticks,” he said, as if he’d been replaced by a weird queer Mary Poppins. “I don’t know where they came from. They’re probably Dare’s. But since I banished him from this house for two days, as I didn’t want the spark to die after being around each other twenty-four seven, you can have them.”

  “So that wasn’t him grunting like a poodle giving birth in your room last night?” I asked innocently.

  Sandy tossed a glare over his shoulder. “I was watching Animal Planet.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And even if he was, it’s not my fault that he can’t stand to be away from me for longer than a few days. He can be needy, in case you didn’t know.”

  “Riiiight. So you weren’t talking to him on the phone last night when I was brushing my teeth, all but demanding he come over because you, and I quote, ‘needed to grind up all on that shit’?”

  Sandy sniffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I bet you don’t.” I thought longingly about the day when I could afford my own place. I wouldn’t have to hear Animal Planet ever again. Sandy and Darren were attractive people, but getting erections because of the sounds they made wasn’t something I ever wished for. I told Sandy this once. The look on his face had been worth it.

  Sandy filled his own mug with coffee and brought it over to the table, then sat in the chair opposite me. I smiled sleepily at him. It was good to have him home.

  “You look tired,” he said.

  Scratch that. Fuck his entire face. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t tell each other that.”

  He shrugged. “I told you to never tell me that. You’re a baby still. Down a Red Bull and you’ll be right as rain. If I tried that, I’d have heartburn for the rest of the day and still look like shit.”

  “You’re very pretty,” I said dutifully. And he was. People tended to see him for Helena rather than Sandy, but those people were blind and stupid and didn’t deserve him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “You still look tired.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Truth hurts, I know.” He stared at me over his coffee mug. “Everything all—”

  “I swear to god, if you ask me if I’m all right, I’m going to fucking scream.” I sat back in the chair so I wouldn’t reach out and dump my coffee on his head.

  “Fair,” he allowed. “It was late when I went to bed. Your light was still on.”

  “After you let Darren out?”

  He ignored me. “I know how you can get sometimes. And it’s okay to be nervous. It’s a pretty big deal, what you’re going to be doing. I’m proud of you for it. It takes more compassion than I will ever have.”

  “Ugh,” I said, pressing my palms against my eyes. “Why do you have to be vomiting your feelings on me at seven in the morning? And on a Monday, no less.”

  “Because I need to catch up for the last couple of weeks,” Sandy said. “And Nana told me she saw Kori more than Corey while we were gone.”

  I didn’t need to have it spelled out for me. I knew what she meant. Being trans wasn’t a big deal to anyone I knew. If anyone was ever uncomfortable with it, I’d learned early they weren’t worth my time. I didn’t need shit from people who couldn’t see me for who I was, even when I was at my most confused. Bigenderism was almost predictable for me. I knew when something was happening, when I felt different. My thoughts didn’t change. My brain was the same. It was just a filter through which I saw the world and wanted the world to see me. “It’s nothing,” I said, ready for this conversation to be over.

  “Okay,” Sandy said, thankfully not pushing. He was good like that. “But if it ever is something, just let me know, and we’ll do whatever you need. Pillow forts, getting in the car and driving away for a weekend, a sleepover with all of us and watching terrible TV, anything. Things might have changed a little, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do all the things we normally do.”

  “Uh-huh. When are you and Darren getting married?”

  Sandy rolled his eyes. “Never. I don’t believe in the institution of marriage. Paul and Vince are lovely and I’m so happy for them, but it isn’t for me.”

  I snorted. “Right. I’ll remember that when you’re crying in front of all of us while vowing your eternal love to Darren.”

  “Nah. I don’t know that we need to be married for that. Darren knows how I feel about him, and I know he cares about me.”

  “You’ve actually thought about this.”

  “Sometimes,” he admitted. Then his eyes narrowed, a little bit of Helena coming forward. “And if you ever speak of this to anyone, I will gut you where you stand.”

  An empty threat. Effective, but empty. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

  “A billion needles in your eye,” he agreed. Then, “We talked about it a little after Paul and Vince. I don’t think it’s for us, and he’s on the same page. We’re committed, so what does it matter? It’s a piece of paper. We don’t need it to validate us.”

  “Maybe a little more than that,” I said, amused. “And I’m pretty sure there are thousands of couples who would disagree with you.”

  “And that’s their right,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “But it’s not something we need. It’s awesome how so many queer couples can get married now. It was a hard-won fight. But all happy endings don’t need to end in marriage. I love him. He loves me. That’s enough.” He paused, considering. “For now.”

  I laughed. “You’re so full of shit.”

  His grin was razor-sharp. “Always, baby doll.”

  I opened my mouth to make fun of him some more but was interrupted by a bloviating idiot blaring from the radio. “Jesus. I still don’t know why they give him the time of day. Fuck him, seriously.”

  Sandy shook his head. “It’s all show. Loud noise
s and bright flashing lights. Almost like a drag queen, but without any of the charm. At least he’s got a wig.” He stood from his chair. “Pay him no mind. We’ve had almost eight years of an awesome black man in charge. There’s no way the people of this country will allow someone like this idiot to become the next president. I have more faith in us than that. Not much, but at least a little. You’ll see. Everything will be fine. Now finish up so we can get on the road.”

  That startled me. “Excuse me?”

  He had that look in his eyes that told me he was up to no good. “I’m driving you to your first day.”

  “Nope. Not gonna happen. I’ll take the bus, and that will be that.”

  “But—”

  “No,” I said. “And that’s final.”

  “Okay,” he said with a shrug.

  “GODDAMMIT,” I muttered as Sandy drove us downtown. “I don’t even know how this happened.”

  “It’s best if you just let me do what I want,” Sandy said, peering at me over his oversized sunglasses. He said they made him look like a fifties starlet. I told him they made it look like his head had shrunk. Somehow I hadn’t been murdered and buried in a shallow grave out in the desert.

  “You have to know how that sounds.”

  He hummed under his breath. The music blaring from the stereo was far too clublike for a Monday morning. Some diva was wailing electronically about sex and feelings (or it could have been describing horseback riding, I couldn’t be too sure), and the windows were down. It was warm already, with the promise of hot later. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the headrest.

  I was nervous, but I told myself it was just a case of first-day jitters. It’d been so long since I’d had an actual job that I’d forgotten what first days could be like. But I’d worked hard to get the position at Phoenix House and wasn’t going to let my nerves get the better of me.

  I opened my eyes when the car slowed, hoping we weren’t stuck in construction or a jam. Traffic in Tucson was the worst.