Page 6 of The Romantic Agenda
Joy sighs. “This is why I like talking to you, because in my mind, I think I’m being irrational and paranoid, but thenyoujust come out andsay it.”
“Hold on, let me get a drink. I’m gonna need a drink for this.”
“And I’m gonna start cooking my dinner.”
Joy’s dinners all came from a meal kit service. She justifies the purchases by viewing them as cooking lessons. Eventually, she figures, if she follows enough recipes with fresh ingredients, she’ll turn into a badass home cook through practice and osmosis.
Her dad is the cook in their family, and Malcolm is the cook in her life now. She does love baking and is surprisingly good at it. However, she learned the hard way that eating nothing but cake all day isn’t exactly the best idea after turning twenty-five.
The chicken is roasted, the vegetables are grilled, and both are ready to be wrapped in lettuce leaves by the time Joy finishes telling her sister about the curious circumstances of Malcolm’s invitation.
Grace drains her second glass of wine and says, “Welp. That’s Malcolm What’s-the-Point-of-Having-Money-if-You-Can’t-Use-It Evans for you.”
Joy laughs. As much as Grace claims to hate him, there’s no denying that they’ve all rubbed off on each other. They all met in college during sophomore year when their roommate, the fabulous Dorothy I’m-Too-Pretty-to-Struggle Stewart, dragged them to an LGBT Alliance mixer. Joy remembers almost everything aboutit—how hot it was that day, drifting around the room, talking to everyone at each booth, trying to learn as much as she could because she knew she wasn’t straight. She wasn’t gay either. She didn’t think she was anything.
While most of the booths were manned by a few people, Malcolm stood alone at his and was such an adorably serious nerd about it. He made cute three-fold pamphlets and put “So You Might Be Asexual?” with a picture of a piece of cake on the front of them. Even now, thinking about him in his button-up shirt and bow tie makes Joy laugh. That was the moment that changed her life.
Malcolm is the reason Joy found where she belonged.
When no one else understood her, Grace included, he did. From the moment they became friends, he’s always been there for her, looking out for her, making sure she’s happy, calling, texting, making sure she never feels alone. When they snuck into bars with fake IDs and went to random house parties, he kept her safe. She could drink and dance and havefunin peace without having to worry about someone pushing themselves on her. He protected her. Never judged her. Never expected more.
When everyone else left them, they always had each other.
It didn’t take much more for her to fall in love with him.
Grace continues, “He such adick. Do you want me to call him? I can get him sorted out right quick.”
“No.”
“Are you gonna set him straight, then?”
“No.”
“So you’re just gonna go on this little trip and act like everything’s fine? Like you’re not in love with him and he’s not making secret friends for some secret reason?” Grace’s voice hits a louder, angrierpitch. “It’s really fucking suspect that he’s told them about you, but not the opposite. What is it going to take for you to snap out of this?”
Joy tries to keep her voice even to help bring Grace back down from hellfire on high. “Nothing. I’m going to stay in the dumpster like the trash that I am.”
“You are not trash. You’re only in the dumpster for Malcolm! Climb the fuck back out!” Grace says. “Stop letting him treat you like his kept woman. He’s your sugar daddy minus the sexual favors, but you caught feelings and he didn’t.”
Joy glares at her. “Thanks. So helpful.”
“I’m not here to be helpful. I’m here to tell you the truth,” she says. “Joy, my light, my love. It’s time to listen to the devil on your shoulder named Grace whispering in your ear. I know what I’m talking about. After everything that happened with the C-word? I don’t think it’s in the cards, babycakes.”
Caroline disappeared, but she hadn’t left quietly. She sent both Malcolm and Joy an email detailingexactlyhow she felt. Joy tries to not think about it, but after reading the carefully constructed sentence “manipulative, man-stealing bitch who is so pathetic and co-dependent you barely have your own life,” it’s hard to forget. Caroline felt that Malcolm put Joy before their relationship and she was always an afterthought.
Truth be told, it’s always been like that between Malcolm, his partners, and Joy. It starts out fine, but before long, they hate her for no other reason than Malcolm loves her more than they think she deserves.
Joy isn’t his family. She isn’t some ex he’s never gotten over. She’s just a friend.
Just.
A just who shouldn’t be important.
A just who should be discarded.
A just who should disappear.
Joy fought for Malcolm, refusing to drift away, standing by him, until he realized she would always be there. Until he believed it. And so far, she had succeeded where they all failed. The greatest love of his life was, as they put it,justa friend.
