Guest post written by author Page Powars featuring an excerpt from The Borrow a Boyfriend Club
Page Powars is the author of the forthcoming young adult novels The Borrow a Boyfriend Club and And They Were Roommates. He is based in the New York City area. Outside of writing, Page helps with soundtracks, sobs over The Untamed, and unfortunately plays Genshin Impact.
The Borrow a Boyfriend Club is a feel-good, coming-of-age rom-com that follows a trans teen who joins a boyfriend borrowing service masquerading as an Italian Club to prove that he’s one of the guys, especially to its frustratingly handsome leader.
When I started writing The Borrow a Boyfriend Club in 2020, I knew I’d be hit with a heck ton of obstacles. Although traditional publishing had recently allowed a slight increase in transgender protagonists to be on shelves, their stories tended to involve some flavor of trauma or transphobia. And the idea of a transgender teen starring in his own joyful rom-com? Practically unheard of.
The Borrow a Boyfriend Club may be getting published in multiple countries now, and even translated in others, but it found no shortage of rejections along the way. One rejection that’s always stuck with me was from an agent who thought some tropes utilized throughout the story—fake dating and enemies-to-lovers—are too overdone in the market.
Fake dating does make up a good chunk of the romance market, but I still tilted my head. How many trans protagonists have gotten the chance to fake date? At the time, I couldn’t think of any. But, unfortunately, this trope has been done by white, straight, cis people for decades. They took up the slots before trans authors and characters were given a chance.
Yet as more trans authors have been hitting the market, I’ve seen readers online remarking that these tropes feel fresher than ever when being reworked and spun by this community. They’re given new life. And right now, as eleven national bans are being brought up in U.S. bills at the time of writing, the celebration of trans joy is so necessary and empowering—and should be in your local bookstore all the same.
Excerpt from The Borrow a Boyfriend Club
We turned left onto the Freedom Street Plaza, where a few game tents were set up around the main clock tower. We passed a balloon dart throwing challenge, a ring toss, and a strength-testing station. Stuffed animals hung from awnings by the necks and limbs. Playing games together seemed like date material.
I stopped and pointed toward the tents as an offer to meander that way.
Asher scoffed. “You want to get scammed? Cork is added to the throwing balls. The darts are twisted in ways that affect the physics—”
“Hey, hey, hey!” a high, upbeat voice called from a booth. An older festival worker wearing jingling reindeer antlers had zoned in on us. Behind her was a table stacked with glass bottles in the shape of a pyramid, which must’ve been why she was tossing a softball in her gloved hand. “Bet you two can’t knock these down.”
A flicker of competitiveness flashed over Asher’s face. Without a single word, he straightened his back and headed toward her.
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me as I followed. Asher’s never-ending scornfulness, when directed at others, was, unfortunately, entertaining. Once he paid the reindeer four dollars to play a round and slapped both of our hot chocolates down on the counter, she handed me a softball. Definitely filled with cork.
Before getting into place, I surveyed the stuffed animals dangling from the awning. A good boyfriend would win his date a prize. The biggest and the best.
“Which one do you like?” I asked him. The teddy bear was a classic, but the dolphin was the biggest.
Asher studied our options. Eventually, he landed on one stuffed animal that had his typically hardened gray eyes practically glowing. “The dino.”
I followed his gaze toward a green Tyrannosaurus rex with an oversized head and tiny noodle arms. “You mean the dinosaur?”
Maybe it was the icy breeze nipping at our bodies, but the pink tinging his cheeks was much deeper now. “That’s what I said.”
“You said dino.”
“Yeah, well. Sure.” Asher patted the back of my puffer jacket. “Go get ’em.”
Nerves rushed through me at the sudden and first-ever contact between us. Asher wasn’t supposed to touch people. He wasn’t supposed to like people.
Positioning myself as best as I could in front of the milk bottles, I collected my focus. Then I wound back my arm and chucked the ball as hard as I could.
The softball hit the pyramid with a clink. One bottle tipped onto the table.
A burst of adrenaline shot up into my head. The game was rigged with hot glue and lead and only Satan knew what else, and I still got one down. I was strong. An absolute warrior.
I beamed at Asher, tossing up a fist. “Did you see that?”
He smirked back. “Congrats.”
