Let's Talk About Love Read online

  Her new room wasn’t so much a bedroom as it was a small den—the curious 0.5 in Feenie and Ryan’s 1.5-bedroom apartment that they may have not-so-legally agreed to sublet to her. Truth be told, if she stood in the middle of the room and stretched her arms out, she could almost touch the walls. And the ceiling. But a tiny windowless hole in the wall wouldn’t deter her from artfully designing this room within an inch of its life. There were pictures on Pinterest of rooms the same size, or smaller, where people had worked sheer decor magic.

  Personally, Alice was obsessed with color and clutter, but she could separate herself from what the room needed. It spoke to her instantly—one single word: minimalist.

  A monochromatic theme with the tiniest swaths of soft colors. Her twin mattress would line up nicely in the corner along the far wall with her easily paintable nightstand next to it. She could loan her TV to the living room, since it was bigger than Feenie and Ryan’s, to reduce the overcrowded feel. Washed-out black-and-white posters and fan art from her favorite TV shows and movies would function as wallpaper. She would hang soft white Christmas lights and lanterns. And buy a pale, lilac-colored comforter.

  (As much as it pained her, there wasn’t much she could do about the ugly brown carpet.)

  “It’ll take some doing,” she said, still semi-lost in her vision. The final result would be a soft Cutie Code: Pale Yellow—comforting as sunshine. “But I’ll make it work.”

  “I’m sure.” Feenie rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to the truck.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain, my Captain.” An old joke of theirs that would never die. She eyed Feenie’s bare shoulders. “Are you wearing sunscreen? You know your skin goes from snowy owl to boiled lobster in a matter of minutes.”

  “I love you.” She laughed, heading for the door. “But you still have too much shit.”

  Feenie didn’t walk—she stomped everywhere she went. Alice could never figure out if she genuinely walked hard or if she did it on purpose to make her seem more intimidating. The semipermanent scowl on her face certainly took care of that.

  (Not to mention the few scars on her face she’d earned from fighting whenever she felt disrespected—which Alice learned meant just about any reason. Feenie’s pride and joy was the one that cut straight through her top lip on the left.)

  Alice began unpacking the first box, wincing at the contents. Instead of sorting through her desk, it seemed far more efficient to pull out the entire drawer and upend the contents. Way to go, Past Alice, she thought, sorting through the wreckage. Near the bottom, a photo of her and Margot stuck to a ticket for a concert they had attended during her first semester.

  Freshman move-in day last year had been eventful to say the least.

  She noticed Margo’s giant mound of hair before anything else about her—it was that natural sunlit blond tempered with streaks of light and dark brown that sent customers in droves to hair salons. It complemented her beautiful olive skin, soft gray eyes, and that wickedly easy smile always up for a challenge.

  She was Cutie Code: Orange-Red and then she was just Margot before becoming Alice’s Margot, but now she wasn’t anything.

  Because Alice was a Corpse.

  Because she was unnatural and incapable of loving someone.

  (God, when in the hell was this going to stop hurting?)

  Alice’s shoulders began to shake as silent tears flowed out of her.

  “Oh, Buttons,” Ryan said. He set down a box in the last free cubic inch of space on the floor.

  Alice and Feenie had met Ryan at the same time—sixth-grade social studies class. The majority of Ryan’s baby fat had melted away in tenth grade when he joined the swim team, but she still saw him as the tan, chubby-cheeked boy with giant glasses, dark brown hair in a bowl cut, who didn’t like talking because of his thick Tagalog accent (which had also seemed to melt away during high school). The thing she remembered most, though, was when she used to make him laugh so hard, he’d have a wheezing fit.

  “It’s fine.” She swiped underneath her eyes. “I’m fine.”

  He plucked the picture from her fingers. “It’s for your own good,” he said when she protested. “I just can’t believe she said that to you. I mean, I know you’re not lying, but she seemed so nice.”

  “It’s the nice ones you have to watch out for.” She crossed her arms. “Or whatever that stupid saying is. Why can’t I find someone who loves being with me, as is, as much as I love being with them? Romantically. Am I asking for too much?”

  “I say this cautiously because it’s not the only answer, but maybe try dating someone who’s ace, too.”

  She scoffed. “Long-distance relationships are not my jam, and that’s probably all I’d find. The Internet is great, a lot of my friends live there, but I want a partner who’s here with me.” She flicked a white speck off a black stuffed bear before setting it down on her sliver of a desk. The thing was barely three feet wide. “I’m tired of putting myself out there,” she mumbled.

  “You can’t keep letting this get to you.” Ryan sighed, a deep and doleful sound that made Alice’s face pucker. “It’s not healthy.”

  She side-eyed him, matching his pity with irritation. “Because you have so much experience with breakups.”

  “We’ve broken up before.”

  “For like a week two years ago. And I won’t name names, but I distinctly remember reading someone’s terrible poetry blog in the name of friendship when that someone pissed Feenie off.” She looked him dead in the eye. “Someone.”

  “That was different. I was young and emotional.” He laughed. “My poetry wasn’t terrible.”

  “It was. Still is. The Internet is forever and you never deleted that blog.” She giggled as his eyes widened.

  “Well.” He cleared his throat. “This isn’t about me. If you need to cry, then cry, but just promise me you won’t do it in front of Feenie, please.” He glanced at the doorway before lowering his voice. “I’ve already had to talk her out of driving to Margot’s house this week. Twice.”

  “But she lives in Iowa.”

  “Twice,” he repeated. “You know how she gets.”

  Feenie had always been (lovingly) overprotective of Alice. If she had told Feenie what Margot had actually said, Feenie would probably disappear into the night and her mug shot would be everywhere in the morning.

  Technically, if it weren’t for Feenie, Alice would have never met Margot.

  The apartment complex ran specials for college students, waiving the need for a cosigner as long as they had proof of enrollment and paid three months up front instead of two. They had even allowed pets. (Their cat, Glorificus, was most likely snoring under the couch.)

  Apparently Ryan’s application for the apartment got accepted at the last minute and apparently it was too good of a deal to pass up. Instead of all three of them living on campus at Bowen State University, they had both ditched her in favor of shacking up together.

  Angry wasn’t the word, but Alice’s hurt settled in with a nice bitter aftertaste. She loved them, so she got over it. Before she even had time to mentally prepare herself for living with a stranger, Margot had breezed into her life.…

  “Again with the waterworks,” Ryan said with affection. He pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. “There’s a few more boxes. We’ll take the truck back to the rental place so you don’t have to worry about it.”

  He walked away, pausing at the door. “I know it sucks, but breaking up isn’t the end of the world.”

  She loved Ryan, truly did with her whole heart, and wouldn’t wish a breakup on anyone, but that boy needed some perspective. He was delusional if he expected her to believe that he wouldn’t fall apart if Feenie left. She was the only girlfriend he had ever had. Once, when they were ever so slightly high, he crowed on and on about how lucky he had been to find Feenie so early and how he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life searching for The One.

  “You believe in that?” Alice h
ad asked.

  “Yeah. Soulmates are real. God says so. Watch, one day you’ll find yours and you’re going to remember this moment and finally begin to respect and revere me for the prophet that I am. He has a plan for us all.”

  (Being high tended to turn Ryan’s brain into sentimental and religious mush.)

  Back then, Alice had shaken her head at him. She didn’t even know if she had wanted to date yet, but she also didn’t have any doubts about her asexuality. She had spent countless hours thinking and coming to terms with what that meant, the kind of future she wanted to have, and if that could possibly include another person.

  The bottom line was her body had never shown so much as a flicker of sexual interest in anyone. But that didn’t mean she liked being alone. That didn’t mean she wasn’t lonely. That didn’t mean she didn’t want romance and didn’t want to fall in love. It didn’t mean she couldn’t love someone just as fiercely as they loved her.

  * * *

  THE AFTERNOON BECAME a blur of movement. Ryan followed her unpacking lead; his extra inches of height came in handy, and he was good with a hammer. Feenie mostly complained. They had stopped for lunch, sitting on the floor and using upturned boxes as tables, and decided to watch a show about an out-of-control police precinct with a hilarious cast of characters when Alice’s phone rang.

  (A large pizza—half extra cheese, half pineapple, and real bacon. Not that Canadian stuff.)

  (It’s ham. Canadian bacon is literally ham.)

  “It’s my parents,” Alice explained, getting up and stepping out of the room. “Hi, Mom.”

  “How are you? What are you doing?” Her mom had a remarkably high speaking voice and her singing voice was the star of their church’s choir. No one expected her to sound the way she did—like a Disney Princess in action.

  “Good. I’m unpacking now.” She braced herself during the extra beat of silence.

  “I’m happy that you’re happy, but I really don’t understand why you couldn’t move home for the summer. It’s not too late, sweetie. Your room is still set up.”

  She leaned against the wall, suppressing a sigh. “I’m not moving back, Mom. How’s Christy?”

  “Tired, worried, but coping. Nothing unusual.”

  “And Adam?”

  “He’s strong for Christy. I know he wishes you were here right now.”

  “Mom, please stop. I feel bad enough.”

  Her brother, Adam, and his wife, Christy, were having a difficult first pregnancy. They had planned to move in with their parents for extra support and to save money on rent and child care for a little bit. The baby wasn’t due until October. Alice had already written her speeches to plead, beg, and offer to donate her right foot to have the excused time off from school. It was imperative for her to be there when the baby first opened their eyes. And for their first smile. And first laugh. However long that took.

  (Jesus, she couldn’t wait to meet that kid.)

  “You can be in charge of decorating the baby’s nursery. I’m sure Christy would love for you to take over to help reduce her stress levels.”

  “I can’t. Summer school, remember? Besides, I love California. California loves me.”

  “Online classes can be done from anywhere. Your school won’t know you’re ten hours away from campus. I checked your student account this morning—”

  “Mom, you promised you wouldn’t do that.” She tried not to whine, but she was BUSTED. She had zero intention of attending the summer intersession.

  “I wanted to pay for your class. Why haven’t you signed up yet?” she said. “And it still says ‘undeclared.’ What did we talk about?”

  They didn’t talk about anything. Her mom had lectured her for an hour about how the foundations of a good law degree were rooted in political science. Alice came from a family of lawyers (her mom, her dad, and her brother) and local politicians (her newly elected sister, Mayor Aisha R. Johnson). The expectation was clear: Alice would attend law school.

  (Or be disowned.)

  (Probably.)

  (Okay, maybe not, but the penalty would be steep.)

  “I’m going to. I’ve been busy. I’m busy now.” Alice sighed. “I have to go. Okay, I’m hanging up, I love you, kiss Daddy for me, bye.”

  Ryan had paused the episode while they waited for her to return.

  (Her absence didn’t stop them from devouring half the pizza, though. And she thought she ate fast.)

  “I am having a terrible week,” Alice announced as her phone chimed.

  “Damn it. Margot hates me or something, my mom is practically breathing fire at me, and now she wants me to call Aisha, who is really going to roast me. What’s next? Am I going to fall and break both my ankles?”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Ryan warned. “Don’t put that out there.”

  “All I’m saying is everything happens in threes. Something else is going to happen. I can feel it.” She stretched out on the floor next to Feenie and rolled onto her back, groaning at the ceiling. “I love my mom. My parents take good care of me. I love my mom. My parents take good care of me.”

  “Is that some kind of mantra?” Feenie tapped Alice’s nose. “Say it enough and you’ll believe it?”

  “No, I believe it. It can be really hard to remember that sometimes.” She sat up. “She went into my student account to pay for my summer intersession class even though we agreed that I would do it myself.”

  Ryan gave her a funny look. “So what?”

  “It’s my responsibility. And now she’s irritated because I didn’t sign up yet or declare my major when neither of those things are any of her business.”

  “But you don’t get financial aid?” He reached for another slice. “I’m failing to see the problem, Buttons.”

  Her parents paid almost all her tuition. The only reason why they made her pay anything at all was to encourage her to get a job instead of lazing about. She had found a quiet job at the county library, and for the first time in her life she had been able to tell them that she didn’t need a spending allowance. She hated trying to explain why her sense of pride shot through the damn roof during that conversation. Most people didn’t understand.

  She wasn’t rich—her parents were. They made that distinction quite clear to her anytime she stepped out of line. She had lived under their roof, in their house, and had to follow their rules. They expected courtesy and good grades and for her chores to be done. In return, they gave her the childhood they never got to have.

  But she wasn’t a kid anymore.

  “She just told you,” Feenie said. “It was Alice’s responsibility. Momma J overstepped. I’d be mad, too. Intentions don’t change impact.”

  “True, but it was a positive intention. You can still be grateful,” said Ryan.

  Alice puffed up her cheeks. “I am grateful. I just—I don’t think wanting the tiniest bit of autonomy is a bad thing.”

  How else was she supposed to learn? Wait for the magical Adulting Fairy to show up and give her private lessons?

  “If my mom did that, I wouldn’t be complaining,” Ryan said.

  “Well, it’s not your mom. So…,” Alice muttered. “And you’re not the one she’s forcing into law school. Free education or not, I’m not trying to be there, no way.”

  “Hear, hear!” Feenie raised her can. “Fuck parental expectations.”

  Ryan laughed. “What do you want to do instead?”

  “Can I major in TV? I’ll get my bachelor’s in Netflix-ities and my master’s in Hulu-ology.” Alice grabbed the remote and pressed Play.

  CHAPTER

  4

  Being on time pleased Alice past the point of reason. It put an extra bounce in her step, a song in her heart, as she entered the library.

  Unlike the fancy college library that aimed for a sterilized, industrious, all studying all the time sort of feel, this one was run by the county and made its patrons feel at home. The automatic sliding glass doors opened to a large space with multiple hig
h-arched windows that almost eliminated the need for artificial lighting. Books were housed on row after row of black metal bookcases and the carpet, originally installed long before she’d been born, had slowly transformed from its initial deep red to a dark purple, but managed to appear as if the color had been purposely selected.

  To the left, the children’s section was filled with bright colors and characters from books painted on the walls by local artists. All the furniture had recently been reorganized (by none other than Alice) to maximize the floor space for groups and create quiet nooks for solitary readers. The media center began on the right side. Row upon row of computers bordered the beginning of the massive fiction section and digital media available for checkout.

  She waved at Cara Sanchez, the head librarian. At five feet even, she took home the award for World’s Most Adorable Boss. Round and cheerful with a pixie haircut, she topped off her look with flawless makeup and a bold red lip. She made you want to pick her up, put her in your pocket, and then run because abduction was illegal.

  Cara waved back before pointing toward the table closest to the elevator.

  Alice looked—her Cutie Code™ immediately shot up to Red.

  (That hadn’t happened at first sight since the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show last year and never in the wild.)

  She stopped in front of the elevator, facing forward, and pressed the button. A curious, nervous sensation wriggled and rooted itself down inside her chest. Alice looked over her shoulder again, blinking rapidly at the person reading on his phone, completely oblivious.

  Only his profile was visible. Tanned skin. Dark eyebrows. Strong chin. And a tiny curl of hair brushing against his forehead. He held his thumbnail in between his teeth, his index finger curving over his top lip, the rest of his hand curled into a loose fist. Most likely to hide his smile—whatever he was reading was making him adorably happy.

  Her Cutie Code™ ticked upward until it strained against the top.

  The elevator pinged. Alice shrugged off the sensation and walked inside. Turning around, she pressed the button for the fifth floor.