Page 45 of Let's Talk About Love
(She knew her outfit wouldn’t have made any difference to Clown Boy, but it was a slippery thought to hold on to.)
“Sexy as fuck. I’ve never been with a Black girl before.”
Never been with a Black girlwas code for being a fantasy on someone’s checkoff list.
“Allow me to be the one to burst your bubble: don’t think you’re going to start here.”
“You don’t even know me. You should give me a chance.” His free hand traced a line across her thigh, right below the hem of her skirt.
No, no, no.
Nonononononononono.
With tense movements, she reached down and moved his hand. She pushed him gently in the chest. “And you should back up.”
“What—”
“You’re in my space,” Alice said loud enough to make the people next to them turn around. She refused to even blink.
“What the fuck are you getting loud for?” he whispered to Alice but moved away. His eyes darted to the Black guy dressed as a pirate who openly stared at them. Waiting. “Everything’s cool, man. We’re just talking.”
“Is that right? You okay?” the pirate asked Alice.
Her heart quaked and her fists wanted to connect with something, both surefire signs she was ten seconds away from a panic attack. Her spidey-sense was full-on tingling and it all said one thing: Get. Away. From. Him.
She shook her head once and then pushed her way out of the corner.
“Hey!” Clown Boy shouted as she all but ran to the front door.
For a long time, Alice had believed she was Cutie Code: Green-Yellow toeveryone else. That was the average amount of cute she felt on any given day. She worked hard to maintain her appearance (and her self-esteem).
Puberty forced her to come to terms with the fact that her self-coding assessment may have been low—others would code her much higher. Parts of her (possibly even the whole of her) were desirable to the opposite sex. To her own sex. To the guy who liked to yell about the size of her ass when she walked from the bus stop to her house. To the people who called her cute while only staring at her breasts.
It made her uncomfortable as all hell.
Alice clomped down the stairs outside, ripping around the corner to stand in the dark side of the house. She pressed her forehead against the cold wood, taking deep breath after deep breath. It wasn’t enough. She kicked the side of the house, slapped it with her open palm. The stinging sensations pierced through her hand.
She clenched it into a fist to make it worse.
“Alice?”
She jumped back away from the voice. Why was he always sneaking up on her?
“What are you doing?” Takumi asked. He wore light blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and a red jacket. His hair had been slicked up to give him a bit of a pompadour. She couldn’t tell if it was a costume or not. “Are you dressed as Velma?”
“Yeah.”
“This might sound weird, but can I take your picture?”
“Why?” She frowned at him.
“For my nieces. One of the instructors at their day care got them hooked onScooby-Doo. If I show them I met Velma, it’ll make their whole year.”
“You have nieces?”
“Yeah. Twins. My brother’s girls.”
“You have a brother?”
