Chapter Eight

Once she'd gained enough respect from Principal Taylor to finally get to work, Gray found the forward-thinking initiatives at St. Charles Collegiate Academy to be a fascinating first challenge in her new job. Initially, Gray had struggled to reconcile the stuffy, strict principal she met with the progressive ideas she'd learned about from the superintendent and board meeting minutes. But the more Gray worked with her, the more she saw what an impressive visionary Principal Taylor was for the prestigious old school. Since she'd taken the helm at the beginning of the school year, she'd done a lot of incredible work to welcome a more diverse student body, hire more people of color as teachers and staff, make the campus more accessible for students with different abilities, and shake up the curriculum to include thoughtful discussions of prejudice and equity throughout subject areas. But she couldn't escape pushback from school board members, wealthy alumni donors, parents, and even some teachers whose vision of SCCA was stuck in the past.

That's where Gray came in. Her brain lit up with ideas during her makeup meeting with Principal Taylor. She may have been new in town, but she wasn't afraid to put herself out there to support the school's mission. Gray had found a couple of networking events with local journalists and PR professionals to attend so she could start charming her way into the papers and blogs writing less than favorably about SCCA. But she didn't just want to run damage control; Gray wanted to get ahead of Principal Taylor's opponents by giving the middle school's public image a big boost. Overhauling the school website with a more modern and accessible design, finding new community partnerships, reaching out to companies to sponsor scholarships and student events, getting positive press coverage of their updated priorities…Gray talked a mile a minute about everything she wanted to do. It was a gift to have a project at her new job that she could throw herself into wholeheartedly. Although the principal hadn't fully forgiven her for their first meeting—she'd shot down nearly all of Gray's initial ideas and seemed skeptical of the ones she hadn't downright rejected—there was enough of an opening for Gray to eventually prove she was capable of quality work.

And now that her work life was back on track, Gray had no qualms about moving forward with her astrology dating challenge. With her steamy rendezvous with Carmen and her friendly morning with Riley fresh in her mind, Gray returned to Mercurious in search of the next sign in the zodiac: a Gemini.

As a Gemini herself, Cherry was overly invested in Gray finding the perfect third date. "Your first air sign! It's the element that makes the most sense for you," Cherry said over pizza on Friday night after Gray caught her and Robbie up on her morning with Riley. "We all knew Taurus was a long shot, so honestly, I'm glad you got along as friends. Gemini though, this could be the one."

After dinner that night, Gray scrolled through a page of single Geminis on Mercurious while Cherry shot down anyone she thought might give her sign a bad name. It didn't take too long for Gray to find a match on which they could agree. Jackson was a nonbinary Gemini who, based on their profile and early conversations with Gray, was charming, clever, and cute. Even better, they were a concierge at a boutique hotel downtown, so when Gray mentioned that she was new to town, Jackson dove into a list of their favorite things to do in New Orleans.

Gray felt an immediate sense of ease with Jackson, quickly falling into a fun rapport and set of their own inside jokes. In fact, they spent the better part of Friday night exchanging puns on iconic New Orleans food and discussing astrology, a subject about which Jackson was very knowledgeable. By the time they said good night, it was well past 3 a.m. and Gray was bleary-eyed from the hours of flirtatious banter. But most important, they'd settled on a date for the following evening.

With so much excitement about the evening ahead of her, Gray found it difficult to relax. She spent most of the day entertaining River while Cherry and Robbie tried to catch up on chores. Since Gray couldn't convince Cherry and Robbie to take any rent money, she volunteered to help care for River to make up for it, like on Thursdays, when Gray watched River for a few hours after work so Cherry and Robbie could have a regular weekly date night.

Gray enjoyed practicing a bit of parenting on River. And watching him grow into toddlerhood with all his own personality and quirks was a delight. She especially loved how Cherry and Robbie were raising him without the same gendered expectations Gray's parents had placed on her and her brother. If Gray's brother had declared a unicorn was his favorite animal, as River had recently done, her parents would have pushed him toward something more traditionally boyish like dinosaurs. But River was free to carry his stuffed unicorn toy wherever he wanted, to prance around the playground holding his pointer finger on his forehead like a horn, to use a sparkly pink throw blanket as a cape. Gray wasn't necessarily rooting for River to be queer when he grew up; she simply wanted him to grow up to love what (and who) he loved as unabashedly as he adored unicorns at this moment, on the precipice of turning two. Being River's godparent, his beloved "Aunt Gay," was healing parts of Gray's childhood trauma in beautiful ways she'd never expected.

But this Saturday, no matter how much she enjoyed time with her godson, the promise of an intriguing date ahead of her made the minutes tick by at an excruciatingly slow pace. She pushed River on the backyard tire swing again and again and again, occasionally sneaking a glance at her phone to see if Jackson had sent a new message.

Once Robbie came home to relieve Gray, she raced upstairs to change into her fashionably ripped jeans, a vintage Grateful Dead T-shirt, and her favorite faux leather jacket and set off. With help from their concierge connections, Jackson had scored two free tickets for a ghost tour of haunted pubs and bars in the French Quarter. Gray was to meet Jackson at the first stop on the tour, Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop, but first she had to make her way through a thick crowd of incredibly drunk tourists getting an early start on Mardi Gras and the many jazz and zydeco bands playing for extra holiday tips. The French Quarter was absolutely packed a few days ahead of the coming festival despite the drizzly, overcast weather. This was precisely the atmosphere Gray had expected when she moved to New Orleans, although she'd come to find that, like any city, it also had its quieter neighborhoods, trendy shopping areas, and office-building-filled business district. But the Mardi Gras crowd in all its noisy, raucous, bacchanalian glory was indeed a sight to behold.

Spotting an old brick building with a slate roof, Gray squeezed her way through the crush of bodies into the packed blacksmith shop turned pub and elbowed her way to the bar. Gray had just handed over cash in exchange for her beer when she heard a breathy voice in her ear.

"Arrrgh, me ghostly boooo-ty!"

Gray jumped a little, then turned to find Jackson grinning back at her. They laughed at Gray's surprise, then tucked a strand of shoulder-length auburn hair behind their ear. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Pirate ghosts are the most fun. I'm Jackson, it's nice to meet you in person." They presented a hand with glittery black and silver nail polish and a variety of rings with colorful gemstones.

Maybe Cherry was onto something when she said a Gemini would be Gray's ideal match. Jackson already struck Gray as incredibly cool. "Nice to meet you," she yelled over the noisy pub, struggling to turn around to face her date without bumping into the strangers around her. "It's packed in here. It didn't even occur to me that Mardi Gras would get started this early."

Jackson laughed, a warm full-body chuckle. "Around here, Mardi Gras gets started sometime around New Year's and runs through, oh, Halloween?" they said. "It's more a state of mind than a day."

Jackson pointed out their tour guide and gave her an idea of what to expect from the neighborhood spirits. As they chatted, Gray felt something like a charge in the air between them. Was it a ghost? Or relationship potential?

Just as the bartender handed Jackson their daiquiri, the tour guide's voice, amplified by a headset connected to a Bluetooth speaker, sounded over the noise of the crowd. "Hello to the living, the dead, and those in between. I am Céline, interdimensional medium and tour guide with Ethereal Walking Tours. If you're scheduled for the six forty-five ghost pub crawl, please order your drinks in a plastic to-go cup and join me on this side of the room in five minutes."

People throughout the bar shuffled toward Céline's corner. Jackson and Gray followed and found a space to linger near the wall.

"This is really cool," Gray said, one hand in her jacket pocket and the other grasping her plastic cup of beer. "Thanks again for getting us tickets. Do you know much about New Orleans ghost stories?"

"Oh, I've been interested in NOLA ghost stories since I've beignet high," Jackson said, holding a hand a few feet from the ground, a smile curving the edge of their lips.

"If I said I wasn't afraid of ghosts, I'd be jambalayin'." Gray winced a little at her own terrible pun, but it only seemed to make Jackson's grin even bigger.

Céline approached them, looking down at her clipboard. "Name?" She looked up at Jackson and her face relaxed. "Oh, hey, Jackson! I don't think I had you on my list tonight."

"Late addition," Jackson said. "You know I can't resist when you're the tour guide."

Céline beamed, then scribbled something on her clipboard. Gray realized that she was much younger than the lacy shawl and heavy eye makeup made her seem, although they did add to her mystical vibe. "Glad you're here," Céline said. "Although it's gonna be a tough one with all the crowds. Mind bringing up the back of the group, making sure nobody gets lost?"

"Anything for you," Jackson said.

"Thanks, hon." Céline looked at Gray for the first time. "You Jackson's date?"

"Yes, Gray Young. Nice to meet you."

Céline looked Gray up and down, wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Jackson, then made a note on her clipboard. "We'll get started as soon as I get everyone checked in. And remember, don't get cheeky with the spirits! They're extra feisty around the holiday."

She moved on to the next group of tour participants and Gray turned to Jackson. "So you, like, believe in ghosts?" Gray asked.

"Yes and no."

"That's a very Gemini answer."

Jackson laughed. "You're right. I'm sure there's plenty of ghostly lore that's entirely false. But mostly, I believe there's a lot that we don't know, don't understand, don't perceive as living humans. It's completely possible that the dead walk the Earth with us and we just aren't equipped to see them. But why not try anyway?"

Gray thought over Jackson's argument for a moment. It sounded something like how she approached astrology. Interesting to explore, and maybe there was some truth to it, but it was hard to figure out how much she really bought into it. "I guess that makes sense."

"Do you believe in ghosts?" they asked in return.

"Not really, but maybe this tour will change that," Gray said with a wink.

"All right, let's get started!" Céline announced, her voice again amplified by the speaker attached to the strap of her bag. In a perfectly haunting tone, she shared the history of Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop and rumors of its haunting by legendary pirate Jean Lafitte. "If you're looking to encounter Jean Lafitte's spirit," Céline said, "you're most likely to find him staring out of the fireplace with glowing red eyes."

When Gray looked at the large stone fireplace in the center of the room, she felt tiny hairs rise on her arms. Jackson nudged her with a grin, pointing out their own goosebumps.

Céline whipped around toward the door, her voice suddenly much airier and less sinister. "All right, follow me to our next destination."

Jackson and Gray tagged along at the end of the tour group as they walked down Bourbon Street, chatting about the city around them. Their next destination was the Bourbon Orleans Hotel, a stately white building with green shutters and an expansive balcony across the top. With Ramos Gin Fizzes in hand, they gathered at a bar attached to the hotel to hear Céline's description of ghostly dancers lingering from the building's days as a ballroom, and haunting children and nuns who died from yellow fever during its years as a convent and orphanage.

"Nothing creepier than kid ghosts," Gray said to Jackson, a sense of unease creeping across the back of her neck.

They continued on to Pat O'Brien's Bar, famous for its Hurricane cocktails and the Prohibition-era ghosts that still danced the Charleston at the upstairs piano lounge, and an old stone-paved road called Pirates Alley supposedly full of lingering spirits. As the night grew darker, Gray and Jackson found themselves wedged between raucous tourists, artists, and psychics hawking their services on the sidewalks. At one point, Gray narrowly avoided being puked on by a reveler who had clearly overindulged.

"You okay?" Jackson asked, catching Gray's elbow before she could trip on the curb.

"I'm great. Miles ahead of that guy," Gray said, taking another step farther from the splash zone.

After another stop at a restaurant where a ghost had been caught on camera smashing wine bottles behind the bar, the tour group walked to Tujague's Restaurant, which was established when the city was still known as la Nouvelle-Orléans.

"This one's my favorite," Jackson said as they waited at the bar for their Grasshopper cocktails, a drink invented at Tujague's. "And Céline is the only one who does it justice."

Once the group was gathered around her, Céline described three spirits stuck in a dramatic love triangle often heard breaking dishes in the kitchen. "Tujague's is also the post-life home of Julian Eltinge, also known as Vesta Tilley, one of the most famous drag performers in the early 1900s."

Jackson leaned in and whispered, "Total badass. Vesta Tilley had a career on the silent screen and their own makeup line. Basically the RuPaul of vaudeville."

Gray raised her eyebrows, impressed. Céline was pointing to a sepia portrait of Julian/Vesta in a large sun hat, gazing slyly at the camera with a lipsticked grin. "Julian gave this signed portrait to the owner of the restaurant in 1917, and it hung on that wall for nearly a century before it was moved to the attic during renovations," Céline said. "But then Julian became restless, causing trouble and appearing in photographs taken in the restaurant for a couple of years until their portrait was returned to its rightful place. They've been pretty quiet since then. Apparently Julian just wanted to be back in the middle of the action."

"Maybe Julian's ghost hasn't made as many appearances lately," Jackson whispered. "But I like to imagine they're still around, putting on a full face of makeup and performing for sold-out crowds beyond the veil." Goosebumps rose again along Gray's arms, but this time they had less to do with supernatural reasons and more because of Jackson's lips lingering only an inch or two from Gray's ear.

Jackson and Gray got lost in conversation about what it must have been like to perform in drag during the height of vaudeville until they arrived at their last stop, the Carousel Bar, an iconic New Orleans location attached to the beautiful Hotel Monteleone. Once inside, Gray looked over the crowd to the room's centerpiece: an enormous spinning merry-go-round-style bar, decorated in ornate circus fashion. Although moving slowly, Gray could see that the people seated at the bar were actually rotating around the room. Jackson grabbed Gray's hand and pulled her onto the platform surrounding the bar to order two Vieux Carré cocktails.

As the room gradually moved around them, Gray realized that this was, without a doubt, a phenomenal date. Maybe it was the joy of the Mardi Gras celebrations and lively street jazz bands, or maybe the delightful combination of history and legend on the tour, but being around Jackson was so easy. They were funny and smart and kind, and really cute to boot. Gray already regretted that she wouldn't be able to schedule a second date with Jackson until she'd gone on nine more dates with strangers. How could any of them measure up to this?

Gray and Jackson tipped Céline and made their way back into the night air. Feeling daring from the drinks she'd nursed throughout the tour, Gray grabbed Jackson's hand. She felt high on first-date butterflies. After her Taurus date, Gray was worried she'd never figure out how to engage in natural small talk without putting on her PR persona or being embarrassingly awkward. But conversation had flowed easily from the minute Jackson found Gray at Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop. Maybe Gray was getting better at this dating thing. Or did the stars have something to do with it?

Gray admired Jackson's profile as they walked hand in hand. "You're a total babe," Gray said in a burst of unabashed honesty. "You've got a killer smile and a sense of fashion I envy, and hanging out with you makes me feel like we've known each other for years."

Gray could see a blush creep across Jackson's cheeks in the streetlights. "You're, like, intimidatingly hot, Gray," Jackson said earnestly. "So hot I figured you'd ghost me."

"What? No!" Gray said. "I came on this date to get ghosted with you."

Jackson laughed. "And not only do you have this, like, bad boy look, with cheekbones that could cut glass and green eyes that put emeralds to shame," they continued. "But you've got this off-the-charts energy like confetti is just falling on you all the time. Like when I'm close enough, it falls on me too."

It was Gray's turn to blush. She squeezed Jackson's hand as they continued walking through the crowded street. "Now I'm all paranormaled up with nowhere to go," she said. A purple neon sign along the balcony next to them caught her eye. "Should we go to a psychic?"

"Oh, darling," Jackson said, the pet name awakening a warmth in Gray's chest she hadn't felt in a while. "If you want an authentic psychic, never go to the ones with a storefront."

"Really? Where should I go instead?"

Jackson pointed ahead of them. "The square. You find the chillest-looking person sitting in a folding chair at a card table covered with a bunch of scarves. That's who you ask to look into your future." Gray looked skeptical, but Jackson only grew firmer in their resolve. "Trust me on this one."

"Then let's go," Gray said, swinging their clasped hands between them.

They followed the flow of the crowd toward Jackson Square, a location Jackson loved so much that they changed their name to it. Along the way, they collected a variety of Mardi Gras beads, saw plenty of people on the street flashing their breasts at strangers on balconies, and avoided the most aggressively inebriated tourists, all while chatting and laughing at the ridiculousness of the French Quarter. Eventually, they found a strip of card tables set up on Chartres Street.

"Looking for a reading, mon cher?" said someone in all black, including the scarf covering their hair. The endearment reminded Gray of Madame Nouvelle Lune and the astrology consultation that had led her here in the first place. Maybe it was a sign. Or maybe it was just New Orleans. "Twenty dollars for palm or tarot, thirty for both."

Gray looked questioningly at Jackson, who nodded discreetly. "Sure," Gray said, pulling a bill from her pocket and sitting down across from the psychic. "A palm reading, please." She handed over the cash and held out her hands, palms up. "I'm Gray, by the way."

"I'm Raven Crescent," the psychic said, sliding her left hand under Gray's right. "Please relax your fingers. Right-handed?" Gray nodded. Raven pointed a small flashlight at her palms and squinted, interpreting the lines. "Nice long life line. Very strong head line too. You're firm in your beliefs, determined, maybe a little stubborn."

More than a little, as McKenzie had certainly pointed out in multiple fights. And Gray's mom, who had given her the nickname Bighorn when she was a preteen for her hardheaded tendencies. And Cherry, who had called Gray "ornery" just the night before during a heated match of Super Smash Bros., giving both Gray and Robbie a good laugh. "Some people might say that," Gray admitted.

"Heart line though…" continued Raven, "ah. Ah. Not so easy, huh? Starts strong, but then peters out and hits a rough crossing with the life line here," she said, pointing to a spot in the center of Gray's palm. "Poor thing. But see, it's even stronger up ahead."

Gray felt a burst of hope in her chest. It was silly to believe in these few words from a total stranger, but after a whole night of embracing the occult, why stop now? She glanced over at Jackson, who smiled encouragingly.

Raven traced a line from under Gray's forefinger to just above her wrist. "Not much connection to your family, I see. Many disturbances on the Mount of Venus. Painful history with your parents?"

The psychic looked up at Gray, who felt her face go red. Was she really such an open book? "Um, yeah." She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, then turned to find Jackson closer than before. Their presence was comforting. Gray looked back at Raven to continue.

Raven tilted Gray's hand to the side, looking at the lines between her forefinger and thumb. "One sibling." She didn't even look up, but Gray nodded anyway, impressed by the accuracy of the reading. "And this fainter line here, that's a presence in your life like a sibling, someone with you from a young age for many years."

Cherry's face appeared in Gray's head. Raven was right. She was more of a family member than anyone Gray was actually related to.

Turning Gray's hand the opposite way, Raven examined the side of her hand beneath her pinky. "I see a long relationship here, very meaningful, but see how it forks? Not meant to be. Your paths are not aligned."

Gray gulped, feeling a rush of heat. McKenzie. Although she knew, she knew, that breaking up with McKenzie was the right thing to do, it felt different to hear it from someone else. Someone with mystical clarity that Gray couldn't understand. She almost said something about McKenzie to Raven but stopped short, remembering Cherry's rule of not bringing up her ex during dates.

"But here, this second line…" She traced a dent along the side of Gray's hand. "This one is steady. Lasting love is ahead for you, my dear. Just stick to your path."

She continued pointing out areas of Gray's palm and their various meanings, but Gray hardly absorbed a word. Lasting love is ahead. She just had to stick to the path. Her astrology dating project! Maybe she'd find love with one of the signs she met. Maybe even with Jackson.

Once the reading was complete, Gray thanked Raven Crescent for the eerily accurate reading and turned to Jackson. "Your turn?"

"Oh, my palms have been read and reread more than I can count. I'm good, but thank you." Jackson smiled at Raven, then looped an arm through Gray's and started walking toward the river. "This has been a blast, but I've had enough of the French Quarter for one evening. What do you say we have a nightcap at my place?"

Gray hesitated. She wanted to, actually really wanted to. But it also felt too soon. She couldn't go on another date with Jackson for at least a few weeks while she got through the next nine signs, and she might potentially come back to Jackson after finishing her last astrology date and make a real go of it. Those were the rules, right? Only one date with each person until she made it past the Pisces finish line. Getting too attached could ruin the whole thing. And hadn't Raven just told her to stick to the path?

Seeing the changing expressions on Gray's face, Jackson backtracked. "Hey, it's totally fine. You can say no."

"I hate to say no though," Gray said earnestly. "It's just…" She reached for a decent excuse without breaking Cherry's rule number two for the dating challenge, no talking about the dating challenge. "I have to be up early tomorrow for work. In fact, I have a lot of work stuff going on right now and will be super busy, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to see you again. But I…" Gray ran a hand along the buzzed side of her head as she remembered Cherry's rule number three: No falling in love. "I really like you. Just…Can we put a pin in it? For now?"

Jackson smiled kindly. "I get it. If Raven Crescent was right, it seems like you may have some personal stuff to sort out." They leaned forward, planting a soft, sweet kiss on the corner of Gray's lips. "If it's meant to be, we will meet again. But until then, good luck, Gray."

Feeling the spot where they kissed her still tingling with warmth, Gray watched Jackson disappear into the dark, crowded streets of the French Quarter.