Page 18 of Revenge Cake

“Because I just told you I don’t have a boyfriend, so how could I have a boyfriend who’s a feminist?”

I frown, tilting my head to the side in mock confusion. “But you do have a boyfriend. His name is Logan Henderson.”

“Oh, I know him. He’s cute, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

“I think he is actually. He just made you oatmeal pancakes this morning, and I don’t think he makes oatmeal pancakes for people who aren’t his girlfriend.”

“Logan,” Armaan says. “This is really uncomfortable for Brenna and me.”

“Too bad,” I say, my eyes still fixed on Lani in our stand-off.

“We’re both over here crossing our fingers you’ll show a little respect for yourself, and you keep letting us down.”

“Armaan, shut your mouth,” Brenna says. “Stop speaking for me like you’re my patriarch. We’re tearing that shit down today.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to wear this,” Lani says, her eyes roaming over the rubber letters. “I would never wear a T-shirt like this even if I had a boyfriend. My friends will think I’ve lost my god damn mind.”

I shrug one shoulder, smiling with effort. “That’s the part I’m most looking forward to. When my hands started getting tired from ironing on those letters, I thought of how embarrassed you’d be trying to explain this shirt to your feminist friends who don’t know me, and it kept me going. I knew it would all be worth it in the end.”

She shuts her eyes, smiling as she shakes her head. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“I know,” I say gravely, setting my hand on her shoulder to give it a squeeze. “You should also know in advance that I’m going to make you feel really guilty if you don’t wear it. I spent like an hour making it—”

“He literally did!” Armaan interrupts. “I had to set up the iron for him because he had never used one before. Then he ironed the letters one by one, making sure that each one lined up with the other. It took him over an hour, and that’s not including all the time he spent at Michaels. And it still looks like a five-year-old made it.”

Leilani’s coy smile widens into an affectionate, almost piteous grin. “That’s so cute. Alright fine, you sneaky bastard. I’ll wear your stupid T-shirt.”

I’m almost lightheaded with relief, but I try not to show it. Instead, I shrug one shoulder. “You can just tell everyone your feminist boyfriend lives in Canada.”

Lani smiles reluctantly, taking the shirt from my hand before walking to her room. When she walks back into the living room with “My Boyfriend” plastered across her small, perfect tits, I am flooded with a triumphant thrill of possessiveness so powerful I have to look away from her, terrified that she might see it on my face.

***

It’s evening by the time we make it to the beach. Our group dawdled during the March, and we’re some of the last to arrive. Mia suggests we all go out to eat, but I persuade Lani to stay at the beach. It’s a beautiful day and, now that the crowd of the March has died down, it’s unusually vacant for a Saturday.

We walk over to a swing set near the wharf. “Did you have fun?” she asks, plopping down on the black rubber swing next to mine.

“I did. It was awesome. I can’t believe there were so many people.”

My eyes drift to the writing on her chest. My gaze catching her attention, she glances down at her tits. She frowns as she lifts her head to look at me. “Logan, this T-shirt was a bullshit move.”

My stomach plummets, and yet I knew this conversation was coming. Her original amusement died almost as soon as we left the Blue House. She’s been reticent all day when people have asked her about the T-shirt.

“It was a joke,” I say tonelessly.

She whips her swing around to face me. “No it wasn’t! You want everything you want in the moment you want it and you expect everyone else to bend to your will.”

Anger rises at her accusation, but I try to maintain an almost bored tone. “Nope. I want you. That’s a lot different than everything.”

She turns away, shaking her head. “You want more than I’m ready to give you, and instead of respecting my wishes, you tried to bulldoze me. And you did it in front of Armaan so I couldn’t say no. It was devious.”

I glare at her. “When have you ever let the opinion of other people stop you from busting my balls? The night we met you told me I was weak. It was the first thing you ever said to me, in front of like seven people! I couldn’t bulldoze you even if I wanted to, and I do respect your wishes, but I can’t help it if I want things to be different. And I’m not going to keep my mouth shut about it. Lani…” I pause to take a deep breath, bracing myself for her reaction to what I’m about to tell her. “I’ve never had feelings this strong before for anyone. I think you’re the most remarkable person I’ve ever met in my life.”

My lips part when she snorts loudly. Even given her resistance, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.

“I’ve known people like you before,” she says. “You fall hard and fast with no perspective. You think every new love is special and you can’t remember anything that came before it. Every new girl is the one you feel strongest about. Every new girl is the most remarkable person you’ve ever met in your life.”

“That’s absolutely not true.”

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