Page 130 of The Black Flamingo

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“I’m sick of hearing it, Lennie.”

“But you do look a bit like him,

you have to admit.” Lennie tilts

his head to the side and raises

an eyebrow, then laughs.

“You should’ve invited me.

I could’ve been your wingman.”

“Time for class, Mike,” says Sienna,

a girl in my seminar group,

as she floats past us

in a long, dark green dress

with tiny white polka dots;

with books under her arm,

she glides into the seminar room.

My eyes follow her in but my feet

stay grounded. When she’s out of earshot,

Lennie exclaims, “She’s hot!”

I pretend I haven’t noticed.

“Really? Come on, Mikey, you might be gay

but you’re not blind,” says Lennie.

“You better get in there,” he continues.

He waves to Sienna, who is looking at us

from her seat, and she waves back.

She brushes her long red hair off her shoulder,

leans forward with her chin in her hand.

I go in and take my seat next to her.

“Thank you for joining us, Mr. Angeli,”

says our tutor, closing the door on Lennie.

LENNIE:You’ve got to introduce me to her

I hold my phone with both hands under

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