Drag Teen Read Online Free

“I don’t think this is for me. I really appreciate your thinking of me, but no.”
    Seth dramatically slapped the countertop, knocking over the age-requirement sign for buying cigarettes.
    “Why?” he challenged. “Give me one reason why not.”
    Just one? I thought, cataloging the talent show, the bathroom stall, the boos, the ugly yellow dress; the look of pity from everyone in the backstage hallway flashed in my head like one of those old flip-books.
    But then I thought— Oh yeah. I can boil it down to just one.
    “Okay,” I said. “How about this? I’m not good enough .”
    “But you are!”
    “But I’m not, Seth! I’m really not.”
    Seth put his phone back in his pocket, shaking his head. “Fine. Forget it. I was trying to help, but you know what, JT? None of us will ever be able to help you until you decide to let us.”
    He was saying, Here, take some help , and I was hearing, You are even failing at being a failure—how sad is that? So I struck back.
    “Why don’t you find another charity, then?” I said. “Take this third-hand knockoff of a Cher wig and send it to some starving child in some part of the world where they don’t have wigs!”
    Seth headed over to the door. “I’ve got to get going.”
    But I didn’t want him to leave like that. He was always trying to build me up, and I hated myself for how much I refused to let him.
    “Seth. Wait.”
    He stopped, took a deep breath, and walked back over to the counter. He kissed me, sweetly and briefly.
    “You know what I want?” he said. “For your sake? I want you to open your eyes. You know I love you, right?”
    I nodded.
    “And you love me?”
    I nodded again.
    “Okay. Then I wish that you could embrace all of that. All of you and me.”
    “And that means me doing a drag pageant?”
    “No. It means allowing yourself to go after what you want, even if you’re afraid. It means embracing yourself enough that you allow me to fully embrace you too.”
    I came out from around the counter. There was something too weird about fighting over a counter full of discounted candy bars and air fresheners.
    “Hey.” I pulled Seth into me. He smelled so wonderful, so clean, so Seth. “I think you’re incredible.”
    Seth looked up at me, his chin resting in that little indention in my chest he always called his spot.
    “You’re not getting out of this that easy. I just want you to loosen up. Be who you are, one hundred percent. And see how great you are.”
    I thought about how much I beat myself up about my love handles and my saggy butt anytime I saw someone like Channing Tatum on TV. I thought about how uncool I felt all the time, every day, as far back as I could remember. I thought about how every time a hot guy posted a gym selfie on Instagram it made me dizzy with envy. I thought about how much I wondered why Seth would want to be with someone like me. And I thought about how little I actually believed I’d ever do anything but pump gas.
    I cleared my throat and swallowed my lack of pride.
    “I’ll work on it.”
    “You felt comfortable and proud of yourself once. I saw you getting ready for the talent show. You were so … you. Don’t forget that.”
    “Yeah, and I went straight from that to worst I’ve ever felt about myself, standing up there in front of everybody, being a loser.”
    I could tell by how red his ears were getting that Seth was annoyed. They always did that.
    Now they were essentially glowing.
    “You aren’t a loser, JT,” he said. “Try to convince yourself of that? Please? For me?”
    “Okay,” I said.
    But I wasn’t sure I meant it.

I HATE TESTS. I GUESS everyone does. I could never trust a person who actually likes tests. The weird thing is that tests are something you mostly only have to worry about when you’re a kid. After college, tests are basically done. Which is one of the many reasons I think life doesn’t really start until after these horrible teenage years are officially over.
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