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WTF you guys were about to tag team Jaimie in my texts

My heart swelled. If I hadn’t totally fallen for Will already, the way Has being gay changed nothing about their friendship would have done it. It was everything Hassi needed and deserved.

He had good reasons to be hesitant about revealing that part of himself, having dealt with a lot of bullshit from his uncle, in the group home, and at public school. It was hard enough to be a brown boy with no family, but it broke my heart to watch him hide through college when the rest of us were spreading our wings. Will hadn’t said anything to the other guys, but I hoped Has would feel safe enough to bring Jaimie around them as more than a friend, even with Will overseas.

“What are your intentions with my best friend?” I asked Jaimie suddenly. Like it slipped out of my mouth. It was unplanned and ill-advised. My specialty.

“I think Hasan and I need to have that conversation before I talk to anyone else about it, Louisa.” He wasn’t looking at me. “I’m sure you’ll be the first to know when we do.” No wonder he and Will hit it off. Birds of a feather get hot shaves or whatever.

“That was a good answer,” I said, reluctantly.

The sign at The Open Palm flickered to life as we approached. Jaimie held the door for me like a gentleman, and I entered Madame Esmé’s lair.

“James,” she said dispassionately. Her eyebrows were drawn unevenly. I wanted to lick my thumb like a mom and wipe the weird one off.

“Janet,” he said, equally impassive. His eyes scanned and dismissed her effortlessly. The shit-stirrer in me quickly calculated the combustibility of the air around us as it whooshed out of the room.

“Whatever wizard battle is brewing here is fine, but I’d like to get my reading done first, if that’s cool,” I said. I felt like the ref in the middle of the ring.

Jaimie’s nostrils flared, but he smiled with his mouth closed. “Of course,” he said, moving behind me in the hallway.

Janet clicked her tongue like she had a death wish. “Only one person is allowed back for the reading.” Jaimie was probably ready to abra-ca-stabra her in the neck, but his expression went blank and he stepped back politely.

“I’ll be out front, Louisa,” he said before making a show of turning back. “Let me hold your purse for you… wouldn’t want that to run off.” Savage!

The color dropped from Janet’s face as she practically bled out right in front of me. Flawless execution. No fingerprints.

“Fucking dick,” she muttered under her breath, swishing the curtain closed dramatically.

Janet had me handle some filing for her while she “set up” the reading. I grumbled about it, but really I loved organizing other people’s things, so I dragged it out a little bit. If only I’d brought my washi tape.

“Alright cut the shit. Time to sit,” she groused.

I did as she said, placing my palms face up on what looked like a napkin on a rolling cart. “Do I close my eyes, Madame Esmé?”

“No,” she said, bluntly. Well, I didn’t want to be your assistant anyway.

The palm reading started out as one would expect. Talk of life lines and Venus’s mound or whatever the hell that is. At first mine was a pretty generic “foster kid+artist” palm reading. She probably Googled it right after Googling my name. Then she got to the heart line…

“Oh…” she said, touching a hand to her temple. This was the shit I came for! “I’m getting new information from The Beyond.” Her eyes closed and she raised her eyebrows. Then suddenly, she gasped like Ripley waking from hypersleep, and I nearly pissed my pants like I did when I watched the original Alien. Her eyes went wide and she lowered her voice like she was possessed. I thought if this ever happened in real life I would react appropriately, but I just froze.

“I’m getting the numbers 7… 4… 7…” She shook her head with her eyes squeezed shut, as if the depth of her faking was causing her physical pain. “I see your future…a field of lights⁠—‘’

“I thought this was a palm reading,” I said, cutting her off.

“Fine,” she said, dropping the act and pulling a cigarette out of the soft pack she kept in her robe pocket. She waved a hand around. “Woo woo. Bert has a package for you over at the post office. He’s closing for lunch in a few minutes.” She lit up and took a deep drag, but I was out of the room before she could exhale.

The bell on the door tinkled as Jaimie held it open for me. He adjusted the bags on his arm, holding mine out for me as I passed and I’d hurdled the metal bench across the street before I remembered to thank him.

I turned around just as his shades went on and the door swung shut behind him. He squirted something into his palm—hand sanitizer, probably.

“Thank you, Jaimie!” I called out.

He gave me a little wave and walked the opposite way.

44

Sourdough