TWENTY
VEGAN CHEESE
I was bent over the basin in my bathroom, face an inch away from the mirror, trying to draw the perfect eyeliner wing, when my phone rang.
I looked down at it and saw it was Dream.
My sister.
Calling me.
Another first?
It didn’t matter.
She’d had a date with Byron last night.
I scrambled to grab the phone, nearly dropped my eyeliner, managed to draw a black line across the apple of my palm, but also managed to grab the phone, take the call, and put it on speaker.
“How’d it go?” I asked as greeting, and it came out expectant and breathy.
“I…he…we…” I heard her take a big breath. “He’s not my scene.”
Oh no!
My heart sank.
But…
I didn’t understand.
Byron seemed happy that day at work. I’d left him alone because I didn’t want to push the sister teasing too far too fast, but his dreamy, dopey smile was in full force all day.
“It didn’t go well?” I asked.
“No, Luna. It did. It went great. Like, really great. Like, he took me to this swank place and spent over two hundred dollars on a bottle of champagne. And that was just the champagne. The meals were expensive too. And all the vacuous Kardashian wannabes were milling about in tight dresses, plunging necklines and sky-high heels with enough makeup on their faces, it should last them a year, and Luna, he didn’t look at even one of them. Not even one.”
Whoa.
“He only had eyes for me,” she reinforced this concept.
Okay, I was confused. “But…that’s good, right?
“He eats meat.”
“A lot of people eat meat.”
“He wears leather.”
“A lot of people wear leather.”
“He’s Christian.”
“Many are.”
“Baptist.”
“Many are that denomination too.”
