Page 188 of While You Were Trending

“Has he been onNaked and Queened?” Cherry snips. “No. Then he’s not a celebrity.”

“Is that a real show?” Ginny whispers to me.

“Are you serious? Do you know nothing about pop culture?” I whisper back. “It’s drag queens doingNaked and Afraid.”

She snorts.

I fucking love that snort.

Peppermint looks directly at me. “Foxy, would you like to be onNaked and Queened?”

And here we go.

Not the first time, won’t be the last.

Because it’s fun as hell.

“How high would my wig be?” I call back, using my outside voice.

“How tall are you in real life?” she replies.

“Six three.”

More murmurs go through the crowd while Peppermint taps her lip. “At least a foot,” she declares. “In fact…I think I have just the wig for you.”

Cherry stomps a foot. “Can we do this later?”

“Darling, no. He won’t be here later.” Peppermint wiggles her brows. “No matter how much I’d like him to.” She blows me a kiss and winks. “You still have my number, big boy.”

Ginny laughs so hard that I’m momentarily worried about her chicken strips.

“Stop flirting with my brother,” Cherry snaps, and the crowd roars.

“That’s not flirting, and you know it,” Peppermint sasses back. She blows me another kiss, this time shaking her ass at me too. “You come on up here, Foxy, and I’ll show yourealflirting.”

“Oh. My. Goddess.” Cherry huffs. “We might as well all go home now. Clearly there won’t be a show.”

“You go home,” Fuchsia Fallenout says. “Foxy, get up here and make your brother uncomfortable.”

“Sister,” Cherry snaps back at her wig. “I’m hissisterwhen I’m—never mind. Assholes.”

“What do you all think?” Peppermint asks the crowd. “Do you want our usual show, or do you want…improv?”

They don’t have a usual show.

They have standard songs they’ll perform, but everything between those half dozen numbers—it’s all improv.

“I can’t sing improv and you know it, you backstabbing knave,” Cherry says.

“I can,” Fuchsia Fallenout pipes up.

Usually, this is the point when the crowd starts chantingimprov, improv, improv.

But there’s a new chant going up that makes my cheeks unusually hot.

Foxy! Foxy! Foxy!

I slip my phone out of my pocket. “You comfortable recording someone else?” I murmur to Ginny.