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This time, I groaned outwardly. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh. For your sake. If you laugh, I will kill you.”
Malakai solemnly crossed his heart.
I sighed. “So ‘RomCon’ stands for Romance Convention. It’s in London. And one of my favorite book series is a romance fantasy called The Reign of Ifekonia. It’s by this amazing Nigerian author called Idan Fadaka. I used to read it in school with my best... I used to read it in school. It’s like this Afrofuturistic dystopian saga loosely based on a subverted Yoruba folklore.Game of Thrones–type shit. Except better. It has warrior kings bowing down to warrior Orisha queens during battle, uses mystical politics to explain what’s happening in our daily reality.”I leaned forward. “For instance, in the last book,The Reign of Ifekonia: Search for the Sun,these translucent-skinned aliens invaded the land and acted like they were sent as Guardians from the Great Queen Oludumara in the land of light, when actually they came from the land of night and from the Dark Lord Eshuko and it’s supposed to represent colonialism and...” The words got stuck in my throat, my skin warming. Malakai was watching me intently. “I’m stopping now.”
Malakai shook his head, smiling. “Don’t. I like seeing what you look like when you’re into something. Your eyes light up.”
I took a large gulp of my sweet, warm swill, as if it would push back the blood that swooped to my cheeks. “It’s weird you should say that because my favorite character is Shangaya. She’s one of the main characters. She’s this regular girl who works at her dad Ogunyo’s metal shop, making weapons, fixing transporter vehicles. She discovers she has the power to conjure thunder and fire when she’s eighteen. Her eyes become fireballs when she’s angry, twilight stars when she’s happy. She becomes this vigilante warrior queen. She rides a saber-toothed panther called Tutu, because riding her calms her down when she’s worked up—”
“I get it. Itutu. Coolness. Cold.”
I titled my head. “Exactly.” I cleared my throat. “She has a love affair with this Light Guardian, a true Light Guardian sent from Oludumara called Niyo. They’re not supposed to mix. They’re from two different classes and he’s from a sect that fell to the earth ten thousand moons ago... anyway. I love the stories, and the author, Idan Fadaka, is coming to RomCon in London for a signing. I was meant to go with Aminah. She’s so cute. She’s not into this kind of stuff but she was willing to dress up as Yoa, Shangaya’s enemy turned best friend, who has mastery over water and winds.Buther dad’s coming to town that weekend so she can’t come anymore.”
Malakai sat further up. “First of all, that sounds really, really fucking cool, second of all . . . so?”
I chewed on a torn piece of croissant. “So, what?”
“So, why can’t you go?”
I stared at him. “Malakai. Going to a romance convention is corny enough without going alone. Look, can we just drop it? It doesn’t matter. I returned the tickets, and it’s probably sold out now.” I tinkered on my tablet. “See? Gone from the calendar. Moving on! We break up shortly after the AfroWinter Ball in December and then we’re done. What do you think?”
Malakai nodded in agreement. “The ball’s a great place to get material for my film too.”
“Great!” I snapped the cover of my tablet shut and slipped it into my bag, happy to be moving on from the fact that I enjoyedcosplayand romantic fantasy novels. I couldn’t believe I left that in there.
Malakai lifted his fist over the table. His gaze jumped from my eyes to my hand pointedly. I raised my own fist so it grazed his knuckles in a kiss, a formal establishment of our treaty, our diplomatic framework confirmed. We were officially a team, for better for worse, with mutual goals at stake. Sealed with a spud.
“Shall I walk you to class, bae?” Malakai’s grin was an oblique tease.
I mock shuddered as we got up from the table. “No pet names.”
Malakai threw a look at me from the corner of his eye. “So, no more Scotch?”
I slowed down as I hitched the strap of my bag onto my shoulder. I shrugged and schooled my voice to be casual. “Scotch is different. It’s fine.” I cleared my throat. “I like Scotch.”
Malakai tucked in a smile and crooked his arm to allow mine to link through as we walked out of the coffee shop.
“Me, too.”
