Page 16 of The Romantic Agenda
“I can tell if someone is attractive,” Joy says dryly.
“I didn’t say attractive. I saidfine.” Grace raises an eyebrow and says in a singsong voice, “Meaning he’s our type.”
“Our.” Joy laughs again. Grace thinks she’s the blueprint for if Joy weren’t ace. If Grace is attracted to someone, that means Joy, in theory, would be too—probably once she got to know them. It’s a silly, harmless idea that always cracks Joy up because it completely disregards the fact that they’re almost total opposites personality-wise.
“If he is, I’ll get his number for you.” Joy scrunches her nose. “I wish you were here.”
“Well. That would take Malcolm inviting me and we both know how he feels about yours truly.”
“He loves you.”
“No, he loves you. I’m just your bio-doppelgänger who refuses to be ignored.”
Five
Back downstairs, Malcolm is still in the kitchen. Summer is sitting opposite him at the island countertop, in dry clothes with her wet hair pulled up into a bun. Her smile grows impossibly bigger when Joy walks in.
“Oh, Malcolm,” Summer says, leaning forward. “Can I borrow your car keys?”
“Why?” He leans on the counter too, matching her stance and playful smile.
“I want to go to the store. Joy’s going to drive me.”
Driving Miss Summer, coming to a theater near you... It literally pains Joy to hold that joke in. Summer must have interpreted Joy jumping into the lake to avoid answering her as an enthusiasticYes!
Malcolm’s smile holds as his gaze slides to Joy for confirmation, but the expression in his eyes is clear.This is not a part of my plan. Fix it.
Joy looks past them toward the door. Fox is there, glowering and watching, baseball hat still pulled down low on his forehead. His arms are crossed as he casually leans against the doorjamb. When his gaze locks with hers, he raises one of his now infamous bushy eyebrows. There’s an easiness to him, anI don’t carevibe, but he’s not fooling her.
He’s waiting for her response too.
Per usual, Malcolm is completely oblivious to how the politics of dating works. He leads with his heart and excessive planning. Strategy beyond that has always been beyond him.
Summer’s birthday cake idea could be nothing more than a search-and-destroy tactic Joy’s seen executed dozens of times because she’s always on the receiving end of it. Malcolm’s partners want to get in good with her to make him happy. Show him,Look, I’m not threatened by her at all. We’re friends.
In this instance, though, there’s a bonus factor.
Malcolm has to be the one to say no to Summer, because if Joy does it? It gives Summer the perfect opportunity to twist it around. She gets to play the innocent white damsel and paint Joy as the angry Black woman who’smeanto her.
A face and stature like Summer’s screamshelpless—whether it’s true or not doesn’t matter when everyone in the room is socialized to believe it. And when white people actively use it to their advantage, it could mean automatic game over.
Maybe Summer will. Maybe Summer won’t.
Joy hates having to be aware of ploys like that all the time, constantly speculating about the worst in people to protect herself. That doesn’t make it any less necessary.
All three of them are still watching her, still waiting. She doesn’t feel like being charming but she pushes that aside.
Joy digs deep for this one, inhaling and exhaling with a casual hair flip—and her braids slap her back because they’re still wet,DAMN IT. She rolls her grimace of pain into a convincingly smug smile. “Malcolm.” She keeps her voice low and playful while walking to his side of the counter. “Give me your keys.” A subtle nod toward Summer. A wink.Let me talk to her, she says with her eyes.We need to get to know each other.She holds out her hand, fully expecting him to do as she says.
Malcolm gets the message, and he doesn’t like it. But trust overrides the worry in his eyes—he straightens up and reaches into his pocket. “One hour.” He places the keys onto her palm.
“I have executive dysfunction. Time means nothing to me.”
“Joy.”
“I love you. Very much.” Joy gazes up at him, smile set to stun. “If I die, remember those were my last words.”
“We’re not going to die.” Summer giggles. Joy is beginning to think that’s her natural response to everything. “Why would you say that?”
