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We punctuated our conversation with deep, grave nods before both erupting into laughter. I found I had moved closer to him on the sofa, so my bent knee was almost on top of his. I was physically tipsy but I also felt like my soul had had three shots. I felt lighter, somehow more snug in my skin and though I knew I was on a mission to figure out what was drawing me to him so I could cut it off, whatever was drawing me in was addictive and delicious and impossible to find the root of. I kept stopping to savor it. I cleared my throat. “Since you’re all-knowing, you’re probably aware that this is going to be our last conversation.”
Malakai smiled. “I get it.”
He was consistently surprising. The lack of obvious ego bruising only stoked a reluctant curiosity in me. “Really?”
He hitched a shoulder like what he was about to say was the most factual, logical thing in the world. “You’re afraid that I’m not actually who you made me out to be. That you might actually like me.”
“Huh.You ever tried Pilates?”
“Every Wednesday morning just after I drop the kids at school. Why?”
I nodded. “Oh okay. Figures. I just feel like someone whose head is so far up their own arse would be flexible enough to be good at it.”
Malakai’s eyes sparked as he sipped his drink and shook his head. “You’re an assassin.”
“And yet here you are. Still breathing. Despite my best efforts.”
“Don’t take it personally. As we’ve previously established, I’m superhuman. Like you.”
I tried to restrain my smile at his sly callback to our first meeting, but it must have leaked out because eyes twinkling, he began gesticulating as if he was explaining a profound truth.
“Yeah, as you obviously know, in the old days we were known as gods—which, of course, was ridiculous—but now we’re known as what we really are: stupidly good-looking humans with special abilities.”
I huffed a laugh into my drink, creating ripples in the sweet-sour liquid. I brought my glass down. “Uh-huh. What are yours again?”
“Many, but they include the immunity to Kiki Banjo’s many attempts to kill me.”
I released a light snort. “How super can you be if you have to build a whole defense system for me?”
Malakai’s eyes flitted across me deliberately as he leaned back, assessing me. His voice dropped. “Oh, I’m very super, I’m Black Panther meets Sango. It’s just that your level of lethality is unique. I have to adjust to your power.”
I narrowed my eyes. I’d tried to remain contained, repressed, but somehow he was pulling me out of myself. “Do me a favor and let’s keep this whole superhuman thing between us, yeah? People find out and they start freaking out, treating you differently—”
Malakai nodded with understanding. “And it becomes this whole thing where they try to get you to form an intergalactic crime-fighting collective—”
I extended an arm and spread a hand out in agreement. “Right?Right?And who has the time? I’m just trying to get my degree. Learn how to master eyeshadow. And sure, I can carve out a Wasteman’s heart with my eyes, but it’s not all I am. Besides, I hardly ever do it because the cleanup is too stressful. I hate blood.”
Malakai’s smile broke through, lighting up his face. I was used to myjagged edges scraping up against people, but Malakai seemed to click into mine, slot right into rhythm.
His eyes glittered. “Mad.That’swhat I mean. That right there.”
“What?”
“That.” He gestured to my face, my form, the air around me in awed bafflement. “That’s what I mean by you being an assassin. Have you seen your fucking smile? You can make a man do anything with that shit. You’re a straight-up villain.”
Malakai’s eyes sharpened, their brightness now concentrated, as they grazed my face. It instantly sparked something in me, like there was a friction point between us and we hadn’t known it existed until we had got close enough to collide. I was light-headed despite the fact that all I’d had was half a glass of watery Jack Daniel’s and Coke and... was I having fun? With a boy? WithMalakai Korede?
I was undercover in the open. I wasinvestigatingthe truth of the Fuckboi, but all of a sudden I realized the risk I’d taken, that I’d underestimated my defenses. My heart was pounding a hole in my emotional fences. If that wasn’t enough to break them down, then the heat from Malakai’s eyes would have been enough to erode them. We inched closer to each other at the same time, pulled by the same energy that crackled between us during our first kiss—an hour ago? Half an hour? Five minutes? I didn’t know: alcohol had slowed time or maybe this potent thing between us had.
He was looking at me with an intensity so heavy it dropped to the base of me and disturbed the peace. I felt myself responding in kind. Just as Malakai drew nearer, I caught the shape of my best friend in the corner of my eye. She stormed into the area, stepping over the clusters of couples cozied up on sofas before striding over to us.
“Hi, yes, hello, I’m Aminah, the best friend.” She flicked an appraising, amused look across Malakai as we jumped apart and I cleared my throat.
Malakai nodded and held out a hand. “Hi, I’m—”
Aminah looked at his hand then back up at him and laughed. “I know who you are.” She looked at me with a small grin. “Cute.Shaking hands. Polite. Not Wasteman behavior at all.”
Malakai turned to me, raising his eyebrows, as if Aminah had proved his point. I rolled my eyes and looked up at my best friend pointedly. “Aminah. What’s up?”
