Page 47 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

She described it perfectly. She sounds impressed, which is very much not friend-like... right?

“You should come play with us,” Greg says, nodding to the two of them. “Reggie doesn’t always follow the rules.” Yobani rolls his eyes so aggressively that I’m surprised they don’t pop out of his head. “But yeah, he makes it really fun. We’re playing tonight if you want to drop by.”

I’m grateful for the rare compliment from Greg, but oh no. I definitely don’t want that. Delilah does not need to pay attention to the man behind the curtain. Plus, we’re playing at my house tonight because Leela’s parents are having a party. I’m on the right track with Delilah now, but it will be hard to keep it going if Eric pulls up with his friends again and totally roasts me.

“He could do more than just play with us too,” Yobani adds, raising his eyebrows at me meaningfully. “If he would take the risk.”

Dude, why are my friends so determined to, like, tragically blow up my spot today?

Delilah looks at me, her lips twisted and brow furrowed in a question, but then the line starts moving. Praise be to DwayneMcDuffie and Stan Lee and all the comic gods.

As we get closer to the front, Greg turns to Yobani. “Remember the game plan.” Yobani nods and they look so intense that I’m surprised they don’t bump chests and start chanting. This may be the one time per year when they put all their petty shit aside in the interest of one common goal: free comics.

Georgia smiles at them, curiously. “Oh, so is this like a limited-quantity thing? Just say the word and I’ll take out the competition.”

“Please. Join us,” Yobani says, waving her into their huddle. They start talking strategy, whispering so no one else can steal their plan, leaving me and Delilah to trail behind.

“So, I’m really happy you could make it,” I start. “And I’m just so sorry again.”

She holds her hand up. “You don’t have to apologize any more. We’re good. And I’m happy I’m here too.”

She smiles again—the full-face, real one—and I feel like I’ve jumped into a sparkling pool in the late afternoon, after it’s been warmed all day by the sunshine.

When we get to the front, Eduardo, Yobani’s brother, is standing at the door like a bouncer. “Welcome to Free Comic Book Day!” he says, and someone behind us legit cheers. “The featured comics are laid out in the middle of the shop.” He gestures to several folding tables covered in stacks. “The limit’s one of each, and please only take what you’re going to read so there’s enough for everyone.”

Yobani snorts out a laugh, and Greg shakes his head. I know for sure they’re planning on grabbing one of everything, even ifthey’d never be interested in it otherwise—and have probably enlisted Georgia to do the same, judging by how she’s rubbing her hands together and eyeing the tables.

Delilah and I both go to walk through the door at the same time, pressing in close. Her hair brushes my cheek, and before I even process what I’m doing and talk myself out of being such a creeper, I breathe in deep. Her hair smells like flowers—what kind, I have no idea, but I want to pick up a whole bouquet of them so I can smell ’em all the time.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. Hopefully she thinks that’s for bumping into her and not for trying to suck up all her scent with my flared nostrils.

“It’s fine.”

Normally I’m all laser focused, making sure I carefully consider each comic and get the ones I want, but standing at the tables with Delilah, I can barely pay attention to the special editionAvengersor the new horror series from Dark Horse. All I want to do is grab her hand and take her to a quiet corner of the store to confess my feelings and plant a kiss on her perfect lips. But of course I can’t do that without her rightfully alerting the authorities, so instead I gesture over to one of the shelves. “Do you want me to show you around?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

I lead her over to one of my favorite sections, full of individual issues and trades from Milestone Comics, an old imprint started by a bunch of Black creators in the nineties. Everyone is feasting over the free issues, so it’s just the two of us.

“Oh my god.” She covers her mouth, holding in giggles. “Didyou see that guy in the green shirt take two copies of that one thing? I thought Yobani was going to shoot lasers out of his eyes.”

“No! What? I totally missed that.”Because all I can pay attention to is you.

“Yeah, I’m actually a little worried for him.”

“That is a valid concern. Yo never forgets and always gets his revenge. Like, there was this one teacher at our middle school that always used to say his name wrong. The guy loved Marvel movies, had a Captain America poster in his class and everything. So Yobani created all these anonymous email accounts and sent him the spoilers to every Marvel movie on release day mornings. I’m pretty sure he still keeps it up.”

“That is so... committed?”

“It’s something,” I say, laughing and shaking my head. “He’s a good friend to have on your side, that’s for sure.”

“I bet.” She turns to look at the covers, leaning in to study an early copy ofStatic Shock,wrapped in plastic. “Do you read these?”

“Yeah, they’re actually what got me started on comics real young.” I pick up a trade off the shelf. “Well, you know, I always struggled with reading. It took a bit for me to get diagnosed, actually—my parents kept thinking I would pick it up if I just tried hard enough, read more. But I wasn’t interested... it’s hard to want to sit there and read when the words just don’t look right, you know what I’m saying?”

She nods. “That must have been so frustrating.”

“Oh yeah. So, my dad picked up a stack of these old comics from a garage sale. Comics aren’t his thing—like,at all—but hewas just trying to find anything to help me. And I mean, they sucked me right in, because of the pictures. I even tried to decipher all the words because I had to know what was happening. I read every issue he had bought, and then he went online, trying to find more. I have all these trades at home.” I run my fingers along the spines of the huge volumes. “Of course, it didn’t, like, get rid of my dyslexia. That’s never going to happen. But it was the first time stories felt accessible to me, instead of just something that I would never figure out. Does that make sense?”

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