Page 44 of Let's Talk About Love
“You probably don’t want to go up there. I think they wanted to be alone.”
“Oh. Right. Thanks.”
Alice set the beers down on a clear space of end table. Family Night was decidedly over.
Sometimes she really felt like she brought this on herself. Besides Moschoula (who was busy posting pictures of herself gallivanting around an island), they were her only nearby friends. She didn’t regret following Feenie and Ryan to school, but maybe it was time to try to build a life for herself outside of Them.
(But she didn’t want to, damn it!)
If she moved away for law school, Ryan would miss her, but he would be fine. Feenie would definitely protest, but would she actively stop Alice from leaving? Come up with some harebrained scheme to prove how much she wanted to keep Alice around?
(She hoped to God Feenie would.)
As Alice headed toward the front door to wait outside for Takumi, a boy wrapped his arm around her shoulders. An electric jolt of fear zipped straight through her.
“Can I get you a drink?” He shook his cup at her.
“No, but you can move your arm.” She shrugged him off, twisting away… right into a corner. She was wedged into the space where the wall met the staircase with him standing in front of her. Yellow jumpsuit, giant flower buttons, oversize shoes, ruffled collar—clowns were the devil’s minions. All that was missing was the red hair and white makeup.
By the grace of dignity, she managed not to start dry-heaving on the spot.
“What’s your name?” he slurred.
“Thoroughly Unavailable. My parents were antihippies. Excuse me.”
She stepped to the side and he matched her.
“The disrespect,” he joked in mock horror. (She hoped he was joking anyway.) “I’m just trying to talk to you.”
“Fine. Let’s talk. Do you know where Feenie is?”
“Who’s that?”
“The person I need to go find, so if you’ll excuse me…”
“Wait, wait.” He shuffled in front of her. “Why are you in such a rush? It’s a party. Relax.”
“I am relaxed. If I relax any further, I’ll fall asleep.”
“I don’t live here, but we could borrow a room—”
“No.” She shook her head, lips pressed into a grim line. “Nope. Don’t even. I retract my joke.”
Clown Boy laughed. “You seem chill. And pretty cute for a Black girl.”
Alice wished she had accepted his drink offer. And wished she would have taken a sip right when he’d said that. So she could havespat it at him in shock.Cute for a Black girlwas an insult disguised as a compliment.
“Was that supposed to be flattering?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, you’re hot, and your legs look incredible,” he said. “That’s a whole lot of leg and thigh. They’d look even better wrapped around my waist.”
Her shoulders hunched. She took a step back. The wall greeted her.
(Nowhere to run.)
“Don’t be like that. Come on,” he said, standing in front of her. He extended his arm, placing his palm flat by the side of her head in that way boys seem to do when they want to corner their prey. “You know exactly how you look,” he whispered. His tequila breath singed her nose hairs.
“And how is that? Like I’m ready to solve some mysteries?” Her nervous laughter sounded awful in her ears. Maybe her Velma costume wasn’t the best choice for this night. She wasn’t trying to besexy. She loved this costume, the best kind of balance between smart, feminine, and cute. Maybe she should have gone with her first choice—Gadget fromChip ’n’ Dale: Rescue Rangers. But the last time she did, people kept trying to steal her goggles.
