Chapter Text
The glitter started on the kitchen table and moved from there, because Trinity Santos had never agreed that glitter belonged in one place, on one surface, or under anybody's control.
Dennis Whitaker stood at the sink with a damp paper towel pinched between two fingers. A silver fleck clung to his knuckle. He turned his hand over, studied it, and sighed through his nose hard enough that Trinity grinned at him through the mirror propped on the counter.
"You're acting like it bit you," Trinity teased.
Dennis rubbed at the fleck. It stayed right where it was. "I'm acting like I asked you one question. I asked, 'Do we need two jars of glitter?' You told me, 'No, we need four.' Now the apartment looks like a craft store sneezed."
Trinity twisted in her chair and lifted both hands. Loose red glitter shone across her palms. Green specks caught under her nails. A smear of gold cut across her collarbone. "Then the apartment has taste."
Victoria Javadi sat cross-legged on the living room floor in a rainbow slip dress, holding two little adhesive gems near one eye and looking deeply concerned. "Is this too much? Be honest."
Dennis looked over his shoulder. "For Pride? No. For our landlord seeing the carpet later? Maybe."
Victoria pressed the gems below her eye anyway. "I'm choosing joy."
"Good choice." Trinity faced the mirror again and shook her head once, letting her new layered mullet fall forward. The cut was still so fresh that she kept touching it by accident. It brushed her jaw in choppy pieces and flared around the back of her neck. She'd gotten it that morning, then walked home with the kind of swagger that made three strangers compliment her before she reached the apartment door.
Dennis had opened the door, blinked once, and murmured, "Oh, we're starting problems today."
Now Trinity was starting several. Her handmade white crop top sat bright against her skin, the words MOMMY'S LITTLE MEATBALL painted across the front in red and green block letters. The paint had bled a little at the corners, but she liked it better that way. She wore jean shorts, scuffed sneakers, and a carabiner clipped at her hip. Her keys knocked against a tiny Frog and Toad charm. A pride lighter hung from a little hook, tucked beside the rest of the metal mess.
Dennis had tried not to laugh when she showed him the shirt. He'd failed before she finished turning around.
"You can't wear that around thousands of lesbians and expect peace," he warned.
Trinity dragged green liner under one eye. "I'm not going to Pride for peace."
Victoria leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed a tube of lip gloss. "I think it's cute. It's weird, but it's cute. It feels very you."
"Thank you, baby Javadi." Trinity pointed the liner at Dennis. "See? Support."
"I support it," Dennis answered, tugging his mesh shirt straight. "I also support hydration, sunscreen, and not making direct eye contact with anyone who says they know a rooftop after-party."
"Dad mode," Victoria observed.
"Apartment mode," Dennis corrected. "If I lose either of you in a crowd, I'm not filling out a spreadsheet about it."
"Nobody is asking you to make a spreadsheet."
"You say that now." Dennis picked up a bottle of sunscreen and held it out. "Trinity. Arms."
Trinity dropped the eyeliner and gave him one arm without looking away from the mirror. Her phone buzzed on the table before Dennis could squeeze sunscreen into his palm. Yolanda Garcia's name flashed across the screen, along with the picture Trinity had taken of her girlfriend at a diner, half laughing and half pretending she hated being photographed.
Trinity's whole posture changed. Dennis saw it and rolled his eyes softly, but his mouth curved.
"She's calling," Victoria whispered, as if Yolanda might hear before Trinity answered.
"Everybody act normal." Trinity grabbed the phone, flipped her hair once, and accepted the FaceTime.
Yolanda's face filled the screen, close enough that Trinity mostly saw her brown eyes, her glossy mouth, and the edge of the hoop earring she was fastening. "Hey, babe, we're running like ten minutes behind because Emery can't decide if her shirt is funny or mean. I told her those are her two main settings, so either way it's honest."
Trinity propped the phone against a jar of glitter. "Hi to you too."
Yolanda's fingers stopped at her ear. Her eyes moved over Trinity's face, then up, then back down. Her mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Dennis stepped into view behind Trinity with the sunscreen bottle. "There it is."
Victoria crawled closer on her knees, trying to see the screen. "Did she freeze?"
"No," Trinity answered, smiling slowly. "She's processing greatness."
Yolanda blinked. "You cut your hair."
"I did."
"This morning?"
"Yep."
"And you didn't send me a picture?"
Trinity touched the back of the mullet and tilted her chin. "I wanted the live reaction."
Yolanda sat back. Someone behind her, probably Parker, asked a question Trinity couldn't hear. Yolanda lifted one hand without looking away from the screen.
"Do not talk to me right now," Yolanda called over her shoulder. "My girlfriend got hotter and I need a second."
Trinity laughed so hard she nearly knocked over the phone. Dennis caught it before it slid into a pile of rhinestones.
"Careful," Dennis warned. "The haircut already has one casualty."
"Show me the back," Yolanda demanded.
Trinity stood, angled the phone at Victoria, and turned. Victoria took her role seriously, holding the phone up while Trinity shook her hair. Yolanda's face changed again, softer and worse for Trinity's ego.
"Oh," Yolanda whispered.
Trinity turned back around. "Oh? That's it?"
"That's not 'it.' That's me being respectful because Dennis is in the room."
Dennis lifted both hands and walked toward the sink. "Please continue respecting my kitchen."
Victoria's smile widened. "I'm in the room too."
"You're too young to hear whatever I was going to say," Yolanda replied.
"I'm not that young."
"Today you are."
Trinity took the phone back and sat again. "Where are you?"
"At Parker's, surrounded by chaos. Emery is mad because Samira had to work, Parker is putting glitter on her collarbones like she's trying to blind traffic, and I'm trying to get out the door before one of them changes shoes again."
A face appeared at the edge of the screen, all sharp grin and sunglasses pushed into dark hair. Parker Ellis leaned in. "Tell Trinity I approve of the lesbian highwayman haircut."
"I heard that," Trinity called.
"Good. I'm flirting with you from here. It's efficient."
Yolanda shoved Parker's face out of frame. "Flirt with your own reflection."
"I already did," Parker answered from offscreen. "She flirted back."
Emery Walsh moved behind Yolanda in a cropped black shirt with white letters Trinity couldn't read. Her mouth was set in a line that meant she was one inconvenience away from biting someone.
"Tell Emery her shirt is funny," Yolanda instructed.
Emery leaned close enough for the screen to show: MY GIRLFRIEND IS HOTTER THAN YOURS AND UNAVAILABLE.
Trinity pointed at the phone. "That is funny and mean. Perfect."
"Thank you," Emery returned. "Samira says it's obnoxious. Samira is at work, so her vote is absent."
"That's not how votes work," Dennis called from the sink.
"It is today," Emery countered.
Yolanda's eyes returned to Trinity's hair, then to her shirt. Her eyebrows climbed. "Wait. What does your shirt say?"
Trinity stretched the fabric with both hands and held still.
Yolanda stared. Parker howled from somewhere out of frame.
"No," Yolanda breathed.
"Yes," Trinity corrected.
"Mommy's little meatball?"
"Handmade. Respect the craft."
Yolanda covered her mouth. Her shoulders moved with quiet laughter before she lowered her hand. "I'm going to kiss you so stupid in public."
Victoria clapped both hands over her ears. "I changed my mind. I am too young."
Dennis pointed the sunscreen at Trinity again. "Arms, meatball."
"Don't call me that."
"You put it on your chest."
Yolanda's gaze dropped. She exhaled through her nose. "I'm not going to survive today."
Trinity held out one arm for Dennis and smiled at the screen like she knew exactly what she was doing. "Then hurry up."
By the time Yolanda promised they were leaving, Dennis had coated Trinity's shoulders in sunscreen, Victoria had attached two more gems to her cheek, and the apartment had picked up a rainbow sheen on nearly every reachable surface.
Trinity ended the call and leaned back in her chair. For one second, she looked too pleased with herself to move.
Dennis nudged her ankle with his shoe. "You done making her forget language?"
"For now."
"Great. Shoes. Water. Wallet. Keys. Lighter. Frog and Toad."
Trinity patted the carabiner. Metal clinked against denim. "Present."
Victoria got to her feet and checked herself in the hallway mirror. "Do I look like I'm trying too hard?"
Trinity came up behind her, set both hands on her shoulders, and met her eyes in the glass. "You look like you wanted color and you gave yourself color. That's the whole point."
Victoria's shoulders lowered. "Okay."
Dennis grabbed three water bottles from the freezer where they'd been chilling. "Let's go before the glitter unionizes."
The street outside was already loud. Pride had taken over the neighborhood in waves, music from open windows, whistles from the corner, people draped in flags, people painted in colors, people laughing like they'd been waiting all week to do it in public. Heat rose from the sidewalk. Trinity shoved her sunglasses onto her nose and felt sweat start between her shoulder blades before they reached the train.
Victoria walked between Trinity and Dennis, turning her head every few steps. "I love everyone's outfits. I want to compliment every single person."
"Then do it," Trinity encouraged.
Victoria lifted both hands toward a person in platform boots and a cape of tiny trans flags. "Your cape is amazing!"
The person spun once and bowed. Victoria looked delighted enough to float right off the curb if Dennis hadn't touched her elbow when the light changed.
At the meeting spot near the parade route, nobody needed introductions. They all worked at the same hospital, which meant Parker and Emery already came with their own opinions, their own shorthand, and enough shared history to skip polite small talk. Yolanda saw Trinity before Trinity saw her. Trinity only knew because Parker's voice cut across the sidewalk.
"There she goes. Garcia has lost motor function."
Yolanda stood in the sun wearing a red tank, loose shorts, and glitter along the bridge of her nose. Her hair was pulled back, but loose curls framed her face. She looked at Trinity's haircut with the same stunned focus from FaceTime, only now she was close enough for Trinity to enjoy it properly.
Trinity spread her arms. "Well?"
Yolanda walked straight into her space, slid both hands into Trinity's hair, and kissed her before answering. It wasn't a quick hello. It was warm, firm, and public enough that somebody nearby cheered.
Dennis looked away with practiced patience. Victoria covered her smile with her water bottle.
Parker clapped once. "Strong opening."
Emery adjusted her sunglasses. "Nine out of ten. Needed more dip."
Yolanda broke the kiss and kept her fingers in Trinity's hair. "Hi."
Trinity's mouth stayed close to hers. "Hi."
"I hate that you were right to hide the haircut."
"You love when I'm right."
"I tolerate it when you're pretty."
Trinity slipped a hand around Yolanda's waist. "So all the time."
Parker turned to Dennis. "Are they always like this?"
Dennis took a sip from his water bottle. "Sometimes they're louder." He then looked around before asking. "Samira had to work?"
Emery's mouth flattened. "Yes. During Pride. Rude of the universe. I sent her three pictures already and she sent back 'drink water' like a very hot park ranger."
Parker hooked an arm around Emery's shoulders. "Samira loves you alive and hydrated."
"Samira loves being correct."
"Both can be true." Parker released her and gave Trinity a slow once-over. "The shirt is worse in person. Congratulations."
Trinity pinched the hem. "It's art."
"It's a public service announcement," Yolanda murmured, combing her fingers through the back of Trinity's hair again.
Trinity glanced at her. "You're still touching it."
"I know."
"You planning to stop?"
"No."
The parade rolled forward in bursts. They joined the crowd along the curb, shoulder to shoulder with strangers who passed flags overhead and shouted lyrics when a float blasted music from huge speakers. Trinity danced with Victoria until Victoria forgot to be shy. Dennis stood behind them, smiling when he thought nobody was watching, a small bisexual flag painted on one cheek because Trinity had pinned him against the bathroom sink and refused to let him leave bare-faced.
A girl with blue glitter on her temples leaned toward Trinity while the music dropped into a bass-heavy chorus. "I love your top."
Trinity turned, bright and quick. "Thank you. I made it."
"You taking commissions?"
Yolanda's hand slid to Trinity's lower back. The touch wasn't possessive, just present. Trinity felt it and smiled wider.
"Depends what phrase you want on your chest," Trinity answered.
The girl laughed, eyes dipping to the carabiner. "Cute lighter too."
"Useful and decorative."
"Like you?"
Trinity tipped her head. "I'm mostly decorative."
Yolanda leaned close to Trinity's ear. "Liar."
The girl clocked Yolanda then, smiled at both of them, and lifted her hands. "Okay, cute. Have fun, you two."
"You too," Yolanda called as the crowd carried her along.
Trinity faced Yolanda with mischief all over her mouth. "You handled that maturely."
"I deserve an award."
"You get a kiss."
"Better."
Trinity kissed her once, quick and sweet, then again because Yolanda tried to chase her mouth when she pulled away.
A few feet off, Parker had gathered attention without trying. A woman in a silver mesh top offered her a temporary tattoo. A tall person in a cowboy hat asked if she wanted to dance. A girl with a rainbow fan leaned in and told her she had dangerous cheekbones. Parker accepted every compliment like she was signing receipts.
"Dangerous cheekbones?" Emery repeated, unimpressed. "That one wasn't even good."
Parker pressed the temporary tattoo to her forearm. "You sound jealous."
"Of your cheekbones? Never. Of the free tattoo? Slightly."
The cowboy hat person held out a hand to Emery next. "What about you? Dance?"
Emery lifted her left hand, where she'd drawn a tiny heart with Samira's initial on the side of her thumb. "I have a girlfriend."
"That's fair."
"She's not here and I'm annoyed about it, so I'm not taking applications."
Parker grinned. "She has an out-of-office message for flirting."
"Automatic reply," Emery muttered. "Denied."
They moved down the route in pieces. Dennis got stopped by a man in a cropped football jersey who complimented his mesh shirt and asked where he got it. Dennis gave the store name, accepted the man's number on a sticker he did not ask for, and stared at it in mild disbelief.
Trinity leaned over his shoulder. "Dennis."
"No."
"Dennis."
"I'm not discussing this."
Victoria bounced beside him. "He was cute."
"He was direct," Dennis corrected, peeling the sticker from his wrist and tucking it into his pocket instead of throwing it away.
Parker noticed and pointed. "Pocket means maybe."
"Pocket means I don't litter," Dennis replied.
"That is not the no you think it is."
Victoria got her own moment at a drink stand. She was reaching for lemonade when a woman with pink braids complimented her eye gems and asked if she wanted to join a group photo later. Victoria flushed, nearly handed the vendor her phone instead of cash, and looked at Dennis like he'd been assigned to translate the interaction.
Dennis hid a smile behind his bottle. "She asked if you wanted a picture."
"I know what she asked," Victoria whispered.
The woman with pink braids waited kindly. "Only if you want. You just look really cute."
Victoria found her voice. "Thank you. Maybe later? I'm with my friends."
"Cool. Happy Pride."
Victoria accepted the lemonade and stared into it as they walked away. "I think I handled that normally."
Trinity tucked an arm through hers. "You did."
"My soul left for a second, but I handled it."
"That's still normal."
Food came next because the heat turned everyone impatient at once. They found a row of vendors where smoke curled over grills, fruit cups sweated in plastic containers, and somebody yelled about cold agua frescas with the passion of a person saving lives through mango.
Trinity ordered skewers, fries, and a lemonade she insisted she'd share. Yolanda bought watermelon and immediately fed Trinity a piece with the little fork from the cup.
"You're feeding me like I'm difficult," Trinity noted.
Yolanda dabbed juice from Trinity's chin with her thumb. "You are difficult."
"And yet."
"And yet I'm obsessed with your hair and your stupid shirt. Open your mouth."
Trinity obeyed. Dennis looked down at his fries. "I'm eating over here."
"Nobody told you to watch," Yolanda returned.
"We're in a circle."
"That's your choice."
Emery sat on the curb with her knees up, phone in both hands. Her face softened for the first time all day.
Parker nudged her with one sandal. "Samira?"
"Yeah." Emery's thumb moved across the screen. "She sent me a voice message. She sounds tired and cute, which is very unfair."
"Play it," Victoria requested.
Emery pulled the phone closer to her chest. "Absolutely not. That's mine."
Parker held up both hands. "Protect the voice message."
A woman with a shaved head and gold lipstick stopped near Emery and nodded toward her shirt. "So your girlfriend's unavailable. Are friends available?"
Emery didn't look up from her phone. "No. My friends are emotionally booked and physically annoying."
The woman laughed. "Respect."
"Happy Pride," Emery added, then hit play on the voice message with the speaker pressed to her ear.
Music pulled them back into the crowd after food. The afternoon had gone hotter, stickier, brighter. Confetti stuck to Trinity's sunscreen. Yolanda kept finding reasons to touch the back of her hair, combing through the layers, tugging the ends lightly, smoothing them down only to mess them up again.
Trinity caught her wrist after the fifth time. "You're obsessed."
Yolanda stepped closer until their shoes touched. "Yes."
"No argument?"
"No point."
Trinity kissed her wrist, then the inside of her palm. Yolanda's expression went quiet for a second, softer than the noise around them.
"You're really happy today," Yolanda murmured.
Trinity looked past her at the flags moving above the crowd, at Victoria laughing with Parker, at Dennis accepting a rainbow bracelet from a stranger, at Emery sending another picture to Samira. "Yeah. I am."
Yolanda brushed her thumb along Trinity's jaw. "Good."
A loud cheer rose behind them. Parker had somehow ended up dancing with a strange older woman in a linen jumpsuit and red sunglasses. The woman moved with smooth confidence, one hand lifted, the other resting lightly at Parker's waist only after Parker nodded. Parker, who usually treated flirting like a sport she invented, looked surprised by how much fun she was having.
"Parker found her match," Dennis observed.
Emery lowered her phone. "That woman is at least ten years older and absolutely winning."
Victoria shaded her eyes. "Parker looks nervous."
"Good for her," Trinity decided.
The song changed. The older woman leaned close. Parker listened, laughed, and shook her head. The woman held up both hands, backing off with an easy smile. Parker caught one of her hands before she went too far, leaned in, and kissed her.
It was quick, but not timid. The crowd around them whooped. Parker stepped back with her fingers at her own mouth, then bowed as if accepting applause.
Emery stared. "I leave her unattended for two minutes."
Dennis took another sip of water. "You were looking right at her."
"Emotionally unattended."
The older woman kissed Parker's cheek, whispered something, and drifted back into the crowd. Parker returned with a phone number written on a napkin and a grin she was trying to manage.
Yolanda pointed at the napkin. "Well?"
Parker tucked it under the strap of her top. "Her name is Iris, she owns a ceramics studio, and I may need a new mug."
"A mug," Emery echoed. "Sure. That's what you need."
"I've been drinking from chipped ones. This is practical."
Victoria clapped softly. "I liked her. She seemed nice."
"Thank you, Victoria. You're the only supportive one here," Parker replied.
"I'm supportive," Trinity argued. "I'm just also entertained."
Dennis's attention moved back to Victoria then, not because she was gone, but because she had drifted a few feet from Parker while the group was still heckling the napkin.
She stood near a booth selling pins, still close enough for Dennis to see the rainbow gems at her eye, talking to a masculine older woman with short blond hair, a sleeveless white shirt, and the kind of easy posture that made people shift toward her without noticing. The resemblance hit Trinity at the same time it hit Dennis.
Trinity's eyebrows lifted. Dennis slowly turned his head toward her.
"Is that..." Trinity began.
"Not Cassie McKay," Dennis finished. "But very close."
The woman laughed at something Victoria said. Victoria touched one of her own eye gems and smiled in a shy, pleased way. Then the woman offered her hand, not taking Victoria's, just offering, and nodded toward the booth behind them. Victoria glanced back at the group before she moved.
Trinity made an exaggerated okay sign. Dennis added a warning point toward his own eyes and then toward Victoria, which made Victoria roll hers. She followed the woman toward the booth slowly, still in sight, still smiling, pausing once when Parker called, "Text the group chat if you get adopted by a cool lesbian."
Yolanda leaned against Trinity's side. "Dennis looks like he's about to turn into a chaperone clipboard."
"He was born with a chaperone clipboard," Trinity answered.
Dennis didn't look away from Victoria. "I can hear you."
"We know."
For the next several minutes, Victoria stayed visible between the rack of denim vests and the spinning display of enamel pins. She held up two choices, listened to the woman’s opinion, and looked back at the group every so often with a smile that got a little more confident each time.
"She's fine."
"I know."
"Then stop doing math with your face."
"I'm not doing math."
"You're doing attendance."
A knot of people passed between them, cutting Victoria from view for a moment. Dennis took one step forward. Trinity caught his wrist before he got very far. The crowd shifted again, and Victoria was right there, laughing, with a little lesbian flag pin in her hand. The older woman helped fasten it to the strap of her dress, then stepped back so Victoria could look down and admire it. Dennis relaxed by a fraction.
Trinity bumped his shoulder. "See? Fine."
"I wasn't worried."
She gave him a long look.
"I was mildly aware," he amended.
Pictures happened after that because Victoria insisted they needed proof that they all looked this good at the same time. They found a mural painted in stripes and took turns posing in front of it. Trinity crouched in the center, shirt on full display, carabiner bright at her hip. Yolanda stood behind her with both hands in Trinity's hair. Dennis tried to look normal and failed because Parker kept telling him to arch his back.
"I'm not arching anything," Dennis warned.
Parker adjusted her sunglasses. "The camera loves commitment."
"The camera can manage disappointment."
Victoria took the photo and examined it. "Actually, this is really good."
Emery stepped in next, holding her phone at arm's length. "Group photo for Samira. Everybody look like you miss her."
Parker pressed both hands to her heart. Victoria made a sad face. Dennis lifted his water bottle in solemn tribute. Trinity leaned against Yolanda and pouted dramatically.
Emery looked at the screen. "Terrible. She'll love it."
Samira replied while they were still arguing over the next pose. Emery read the message, smiled despite herself, and turned the phone so they could see a row of laughing emojis followed by: I miss you too. Stop pretending you aren't having fun.
"She's annoying," Emery muttered, tucking the phone away.
Yolanda bumped her hip. "She's right."
"That's the annoying part."
The sun began to lean lower, turning the tops of signs and shoulders golden. The parade route loosened into block-party drift. People sat on curbs, danced beside speakers, traded stickers, shared sunscreen, and pointed strangers toward shade. Trinity's feet hurt, her shirt stuck to her back, and her cheeks ached from laughing. It was exactly the kind of tired she wanted.
Yolanda tugged her into a pocket of space near a speaker playing an old pop song everyone seemed to know. "Dance with me."
Trinity set her lemonade on a closed cooler beside Dennis. "Watch that. It's mine."
Dennis held up the bottle. "It was always mine eventually."
Trinity let Yolanda pull her in. They danced close, not careful and not polished. Yolanda's hands moved from Trinity's waist to her hair again. Trinity caught her laughing against her mouth.
"You have a problem," Trinity murmured.
"I have a girlfriend with a mullet."
"That's the problem?"
"That's the blessing."
Trinity kissed her in the middle of the song, slow enough that the heat and noise fell back for a breath. Yolanda smiled into it, fingers tucked behind Trinity's ear.
When they separated, Parker was filming them with one hand and fanning herself with the other.
"For the archive," Parker explained.
"Delete it," Trinity ordered, reaching for the phone.
Yolanda caught her around the waist. "Send it to me first."
"Traitor."
"Girlfriend. There's a difference."
Dennis brought Trinity's lemonade over before she could protest again. "Hydrate before you threaten anyone."
She accepted the cup and drank half of it. "Happy?"
"Briefly."
Victoria came back from the pin booth after a few more minutes with the older woman gone and the new flag pin fixed neatly to her strap. She touched it every few seconds, as if checking it hadn't vanished.
Trinity nodded toward the booth. "So. Cassie McKay's older cousin?"
Victoria's face went pink. "Her name is Krystal. She was nice. She asked if I wanted help picking a pin. That's all."
Dennis and Trinity exchanged a look, quick and packed with the same thought.
Victoria caught it and pointed between them. "Do not do that roommate-parent thing."
"We didn't do anything," Dennis claimed.
"You looked."
"Looking is allowed," Trinity added.
"Not like that."
Yolanda slipped her fingers through Trinity's. "They care. They're just annoying about it."
"Very annoying," Victoria agreed, but she was smiling.
They stayed until the day softened into evening. Emery finally got Samira on a video call and walked a little away from the group, her irritation melting into a private smile that Parker pretended not to see. Parker kept checking the napkin from Iris as if the number might rearrange itself. Dennis ended up talking to the football jersey guy again when they crossed paths near a trash can, and he came back with the sticker still in his pocket and a new expression he refused to explain.
Trinity noticed anyway. "Dennis."
"No."
"Dennis."
"Still no."
"Pocket means maybe."
He pointed at Parker. "You've infected her."
Parker lifted her hands. "Community service."
The final picture of the day happened on the walk back to the train. Victoria made everyone stop under a string of rainbow paper lanterns outside a bar. A stranger offered to take the photo, and for once everybody fit into the frame without arguing. Dennis stood at one end with an arm around Victoria. Emery held up her phone because Samira was still on the screen, making a face at Parker. Parker blew a kiss to the camera. Yolanda stood behind Trinity, chin tucked near Trinity's shoulder, one hand buried in the back of her new haircut.
Trinity felt Yolanda's fingers there and didn't tease her this time. She leaned back into the touch.
"Ready?" the stranger asked.
"Wait," Yolanda urged.
She turned Trinity's face with two fingers and kissed her cheek. Trinity laughed right as the camera clicked.
The stranger handed the phone back. Victoria looked at the photo and made a sound that brought everyone closer.
In the picture, Trinity's shirt was loud, her carabiner flashed silver, and Frog and Toad hung upside down against her shorts. Dennis looked relaxed despite himself. Victoria looked bright and a little breathless. Emery looked like she was pretending not to be happy while Samira smiled from the phone screen. Parker looked entirely too proud of her own day. Yolanda was still kissing Trinity's cheek, eyes closed, hand in Trinity's hair.
Trinity stared at it longer than she meant to.
Dennis leaned in. "Good one."
"Yeah," Trinity murmured. "It is."
Yolanda squeezed her waist. "Send me that."
"You already have the real thing."
"I want both."
Trinity turned in her arms. The sidewalk moved around them, crowded and colorful, but Yolanda's attention stayed on her face. It made Trinity's chest go warm in a way she didn't need to joke about.
"Okay," Trinity replied. "You can have both."
Yolanda smiled, tugged once at the back of her mullet, and pressed another kiss near her jaw. "Happy Pride, mommy's little meatball."