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“Coach Ethan!” Daniel June shouted from the sidewalk, James beside him, both waving frantically.
I returned their enthusiasm, grateful for the distraction. Memories of working with Daniel alongside Liam years ago further validated my choice to help Kirk.
The parade route curved past storefronts festooned with Pride flags and rainbow decorations. Outside the theater, my moms were there, and I blew kisses. Mom’s slight frown caught my eye—she’d sensed my tension despite my efforts to mask it. It was impossible to hide anything from her, even at a distance.
“Looking good, Gallagher!” Mickey’s voice boomed as we passed Red’s. I flashed an extra-bright smile when his phone pointed my way.
Rainbow colors and familiar faces blurred together as the parade continued. My media smile remained fixed while emotions churned underneath.
At the park, the parade’s end point, I exited the car and met up with Mayor Axelrod as she got out of hers. We headed toward the maple tree for our photo opportunity as the floats continued behind us.
“Biggest Pride crowd I’ve ever seen,” she remarked as we took our positions.
“Completely different from being a spectator on the sidewalk. It was thrilling seeing everyone.”
Andre wasn’t here—still at the starting point as floats entered the route.
Alex positioned us expertly to get us pictured with the maple while floats passed behind us. Some other media people and parade-goers captured shots as well.
Home beckoned, but first I needed to retrieve my car from the rink—preferably without encountering Andre. I needed a mental reset before any reasonable conversation would be possible. Plus tonight’s hosting duties demanded a calmer state of mind.
“Ethan!” Kirk bounded over, guitar bouncing against his back, Oscar following close behind. “Thank you! I did it!”
“You killed it out there, Kirk,” Oscar added. “The crowd loved you.”
“And you danced! I couldn’t believe when I saw you moving to the music.” Kirk beamed before his dad called his name from across the park. “Gotta go, but… thanks again. I’ll never forget what you two taught me. Happy Pride.”
As Kirk jogged away, Oscar squeezed my shoulder. “You did a good thing, stopping for him. Some moments are more important than being on time.”
The validation warmed me, but Andre’s reaction still stung. “Not everyone agrees.”
“Give him time.” Oscar’s voice softened. “You’ll work it through.”
“Hope you’re right,” I murmured as the coaches and campers spilled off the float that had just arrived.
TWENTY-SIX
ANDRE
I’d treated Ethan like I had in high school—demanding, dismissive, cold.
Exactly what I’d promised myself, and him, I wouldn’t do again.
Part of me wanted to abandon my post at the start of the parade and chase after the car that was carrying Ethan.
But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let down all these people counting on me to keep the parade running smoothly. Still, every time I waved another float or group into the parade, the weight of choosing responsibility over making things right pressed down on me.
Three times, when I had a few moments, I’d sent texts.
Andre: I’m sorry.
Andre: Let’s talk as soon as the parade’s done?
Andre: Please.
Sending more might be too much, but holding back felt equally wrong.
My phone sat like a weight in my pocket.
