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“I’m sorry, what?”
I moved closer to him, getting increasingly giddy now that the idea was solidifying in my mind. “Well, it will be a pretend relationship. Which in hindsight I should have led with, but hey, it didn’t have the same bite. Stay with me,” I said as he continued to look at me as if I had spontaneously sprouted horns.
“I was playing with this idea all afternoon and it just clicked when you were talking about your film. I was thinking about everyone’s reactions to that kiss on Friday. Yeah, people acted like they were shocked, but really, they were kind of turned on. Fascinated by the theater of it. As proven by the comments on social media today.” I slid my phone out of my back pocket and took him through the same social media route Aminah had taken me on just hours earlier. Malakai stepped to me, peering down at my phone, eyes furrowed in concentration. Man, he smelled really good. I had to force myself to focus.
“See? After the initial shock, people were into it. It was entertainment for them. The display of romance was enough for them to buy into it. Thedramaof it. For my NYU application I need to grow my platform, build it into something bigger than it already is.”
Malakai nodded, still confused but apparently, weirdly, still with me. He looked up from my phone. Rubbed his chin. “What are you thinking, exactly?”
I tried to subdue my excitement but I felt it bubbling up out of me, as I slid my phone back into my pocket. “Okay, so I don’t date, and you... well,youdo. A lot. But not with the view of an actual long-term relationship, am I right?”
Malakai levelled an even gaze at me. “Is this a trick question so you can look at me with those judgy eyes you have going on?”
“I do not have...” I threw up a hand. “Judgment suspended.”
Malakai nodded cautiously. “Fine. You’re right. I enjoy the company of women but on the mutually agreed understanding that it isn’t going to be athing—”
I kept my tone purposefully gentle. “Huh. And how do you know for sure that it’s mutually agreed upon? Like, do you sign a contract?”
Malakai chuckled. “See, that! That right there?Judgment.”
“What! I—it was just a question!”
“You’re judging. I can see it on your face.”
“What’s my face doing?”
“You like . . . tilt your head to the side and then hit a man with a sugar smile. Like a knife dipped in honey.” Malakai mimicked it, batting his lashes and propping a flat hand under his chin as if cherubs came man-sized. A laugh broke out from me and I shoved him; he dramaticallystumbled back half a step, rubbed the part where I touched him as if soothing a bruise.
“Fine.Sorry. Let me start again.” I cleared my throat. “You don’t do relationships! Neither do I. So, I wasthinkingabout something I mentioned the other night—”
“Before you poured a drink on my—”
“Sure, yeah. It was about the radio show? I know I said it as a joke but Aminah was right, there’s something in that. I started thinking about how interesting it would be to have a show that explores all the ups and downs and drama that happens when two people get together. Providing an insight into what guys and girls think and want. Made all the more interesting by the fact that we are two people who historically don’t do relationships. The audience won’t know it’s fake and we can call it... something likeGotta Hear Both Sides. Kind of like a radio reality show. It’s a format development so will help me fulfill my requirements for the internship, boost ratings, plus, not to toot my own horn, but what better way to launder your rep than date me, the resident romantic agony sis—”
“I definitely heard a toot there.”
“It was more like a beep.”
Malakai’s eyes flashed. “You know, dating me would launder your rep too.”
“Sure. If they think I’mwithyou it justifies the kiss. It’s great PR for both of us. The show can be a special episode we do every couple of weeks. People can write in, ask questions, we can debate and your presence will hopefully pull in the straight male demographic. Plus Dr. Miller said she wants me to step outside my comfort zone, and how better to do that than to work with someone I’m fundamentally opposed to.”
“Aw, shucks.”
I smiled and Malakai shook his head. “Why don’t you date, again? Itkind of doesn’t make sense. You’re fi—cute. You’re smart and you have a reasonably tolerable personality when you’re not slandering an innocent young Black man.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but there was too much and it was too dense, too heavy to haul out even if I wanted to. I pulled out the easiest response. “I don’t want to give myself to someone who doesn’t know what to do with me. I... don’t want to lose myself.”
Malakai was staring at me like he had a million more questions. The question marks were hot, piercing, and singed my skin, so I broke his gaze and looked ahead at Aminah and Kofi, hands brushing against each other’s tentatively, as they walked side by side, playing with the promise of what might be.
“Don’t get me wrong,” I added, “I think romance can be great in the right context, but it’s so rarely the right context.”
Malakai nodded. “I hear that.” He said it in a way that felt like he really did hear that.
We were nearing the east side of the park now, my sense of smell acting like a compass—spiced scents held in the breeze, curry and patties and fried chicken.
“Okay, so what’s the deadline on all of this?” Malakai asked.
