Page 52 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

“It was fine,” Beau says, wiping his face with the hem of his ripped Minutemen shirt. “She recovered.”

“Some guy in the front said something. About me being Black.” My heart rate was starting to slow down after the adrenaline rush of that performance, but this is ticking it right back up.

“Like something racist?” Charlie’s eyebrows press together and he steps closer to me. “That’s fucked up.”

“No. I don’t know.” I try to replay the moment in my mind, searching for something explicit and straightforward as to why it bothered me so much. Because it’s not like he called me the N-word—though that’s popped up in the comments online too, there for just a fleeting a moment before they’re reported and erased. But it’s not like that, not exactly. It’s the feeling I got.

“He said something like ‘This is the band with the Black one.’”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Delilah,” Beau says, but Charlie just twists his lips.

Next to me, Asher sighs. “I don’t know. He probably didn’t even mean it likethat. And anyway, even if he maybe did, that’s his problem and you don’t have to, like, let it be yours or whatever. People have said racist shit to me before, and I just ignored them. Because, like, why should I care what they think?” Then he shrugs, as if it’s that easy.

Next to him, Charlie starts nodding emphatically. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s right.”

I want to argue that it’s different. I want to argue that I’m entitled to feel however I want to. I want to remind them that I pulled it together and put on the best fucking show I ever have.

But all I do is shake my head and turn toward the door.

“Okay. I’m going to find my friends,” I call behind me as I go.

“First you were like, ah! And then you were like, oh!” Georgia is up out of her seat again, reenacting my performance from earlier tonight. “And then you were like, ahh ahh ahh!” She kicks her leg up impressively high, definitely higher than I did on stage, and the bearded guy in a beanie at the table across from us looks away from his potato tacos in awe.

“It was just—ugghhhhh!” She lets out a groan that turns more heads our way. “So good! My sis is a star!”

My cheeks would usually burn red with the attention she’s grabbing, but I feel all warm inside in a good way. My sister could belt out “On My Own” to an audience of hundreds at a moment’s notice and still bring the house down, and here she is fangirling over me. It almost makes me forget my uneasiness about what happened before the show... and after.

“That really was one of the best sets I’ve ever seen at The Mode. Probably top ten sets ever,” Ryan says. I search her eyes for a catch, a joke, but there isn’t one. She really believes that. My chest swells with pride.

Leela holds up her glass bottle Coke. “Cheers to that!”

“Even after that total douchebag pulled that shit at the beginning, you still totally rocked it. You’re a legend.”

So Ryan noticed it too. It wasn’t unremarkable to her. Or something I shouldn’t make “my problem.”

“That... that did suck, right?” I start tentatively. “I wasn’t being too sensitive?”

“Not at all!” Georgia says. She slaps the table, making her carnitas tacos pop up off the checkered paper.

“Drunk ass...” Leela rolls her eyes and takes a big swig of Coke. “I’m glad Ryan got him kicked out.”

“You did what?!” I shout, earning almost as many stares as Georgia’s high kick.

Ryan smirks. “I didn’t, like, single-handedly get him banned. Jimmy saw what happened, too, and escorted him out. He was really trying hard to defend himself, talking aboutthat wasn’t his intention.” She shakes her head. “But it doesn’t matter his intention. It made you upset, andthat’sall that matters.”

“I know what he said wasn’t that big of a deal, I guess. In the scheme of things—”

“Nuh-uh,” Leela cuts me off and wags her finger around. “We’re not gonna belittle this or make excuses for him. He was being a dick.”

“Yeah, ‘the band with the Black one’! What was that shit?!” Georgia joins in. “He didn’t announce how every other band before you was all white guys. Even though—let’s talk about that!” Her body practically vibrates in anger. “How about the band with the badass lead singer that’s all like, this!” She does a dramatic hair toss that I for sure did not do tonight, but Iappreciate the heart behind it.

“So... I was right to be upset?”

“Fuck yeah!” “Of course!” “Damn right!” They all let out a chorus of affirmations, and it heals all the doubt that Asher and Charlie planted in my head. What happened felt shitty because itwasshitty. And it feels so good to be around people who don’t make me question my perceptions or ignore my gut.

“I really love you guys,” I say, leaning my head on Georgia’s shoulder.

“Oh, we love you too!” Ryan reaches across the table to squeeze my hand, and Georgia pulls me in close.

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