Page 32 of Let's Talk About Love
On cue, Alice’s heart rate went wild. She’d write that down in her journal later. Dr. Burris had given her homework: research different kinds of attraction and figure out which ones apply to her for them to discuss at their next session, which she wasn’t going to.
(The homework seemed like a good idea, though.)
Aesthetic was a no-brainer.
What Dr. Burris had said was true: the Circle of Having Sex hadyet to merge with the Circle of Takumi to create a Venn diagram, much to Feenie’s dismay. Alice had placed a question mark next to “sexual” and moved on.
Takumi leaned in closer when she didn’t answer. “I’ll show you all of my secret recipes.”
“Sounds like fun,” she said, and then muttered, “I hope you have medical insurance.”
“Fun?” He stared at her carton of food, thoughtful. “Cooking isn’t my idea of fun, but I’m really good at it and I like teaching.”
“What do you do for fun then?” She sat up straight and spoke to him over her shoulder. “Not that I care.”
“It depends.” He came closer, inches from Alice’s face. She zoomed in on his long, straight camel lashes and watched him blink in slow motion. Takumi had such lovely eyes… since when was the colorbrownso captivating? They weren’t even multihued brown—they were one solid color, pupil barely visible.
(Brown, though? How?)
He tilted his head to the side, glancing at her lips, then her eyes.
She sat there, paralyzed, unconsciousness waiting in the wings for her to pass out from lack of oxygen. Behind the wings, shame laughed at her. She told herself, staying awake too long night after night, convincing herself Takumi did not matter. So why did his presence do this to her?
It was confusing and awful and made her want to break things. More often than not, violence was the first thing that sprung to mind. This intruder was wrecking her life. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him to stop. Whatever this was, she wanted to get to the bottom of it. And the only way to do that was to stay near him, to keep interacting with him.
“Depends on what?”
“Now that I know you actually docare,” he said, standing up. “See you in twelve minutes.”
She closed her eyes. Remembering how to move, she placed her overheated forehead on the cold table. “Hey, body? It’s Alice. I hate you,” she whispered.
Lunch over, she headed back down to find Essie and Takumi engaged in a playful argument. She was so irritated their cuteness hardly registered.
Hardly.
“Be quiet, Takumi.” Essie laughed. “You can’t say things like that.” She placed her hand on her chest, pretending to be offended as if she were a Southern belle in need of a fainting couch.
“Why not?” he argued. “Alice doesn’t mind. Right, Alice?”
Alice sat in her seat and leaned around her monitor. “I mind. I mind so much, I’m going to report you and I don’t even know what you said.” Her inability to control her attitude bothered her, but she couldn’t seem to stop. In all honesty, Alice was angry at herself, not him. It was difficult to tell the difference, to find who deserved to be snapped at when he was the catalyst.
Essie chuckled. “Whatever is going on between you two, leave me out of it.” She stood up, hefting a stack of manila folders into her arms. “But be sure to invite me to the wedding,” she whispered as she flounced away.
“I can’t win with either of you,” Alice muttered. She didn’t want to look at him—she knew he was wearing that stupid grin that made her want to pick up a folding chair, pretend she was a WWE wrestler, and go to town on something.
(Feenie would be proud.)
But she didn’t have to look. He walked across the room and stood beside her table.
“I’m busy,” she said. Any time they were alone, he pounced like a sly, scavenging hyena (which were terribly cute and terribly misunderstood animals. And also massive in size. She saw one at the zoo once and nearly lost her mind). Healwayswanted to talk.
“Do you believe in magic?”
“What?”
“Do you,” he said slowly, sitting in the empty seat adjacent to her, “believe”—he pulled out a pack of cards—“in magic?”
She exhaled through her nose like an angry bull. It took everything she had not to roll her eyes. “That’s not real magic.” She gestured at the cards. “That’s sleight of hand.”
