Such a Fun Age(20)

“Okay, you know what? It’s whatever. I’m in a good mood.” Emira blushed and sat down in the booth next to Shaunie. Josefa scooted into her right hip and the girls’ heels clunked together beneath them.

“Donchyou whatever me.” Zara held up a pointer finger from the other side of Shaunie. “’Cause lemme get this straight . . . it’s okay when you do it? Is that right?”

“Ohhh.” Josefa started to laugh and pointed at Zara. “’Cause you went home with redhead guy from Shaunie’s party?”

Shaunie remembered this and said, “He was so nice!”

Zara placed a hand to her chest. “Apparently I can’t swirl but you can? You get a leather jacket and you better than everybody?”

“Okay, okay.” Emira laughed. “I get it. I’m sorry. But you know what I meant. That guy you fucked with had a compass tattoo.”

“That boy went down for a whole EP.” Zara twirled one of her twists in her hands. “I ain’t seen or care about no tattoos.”

Shaunie sat up so she could see over the railing to the bar. “Okay, but for real? Emira, that boy is fine.”

Emira followed Shaunie’s gaze down to the first floor, where Kelley put both of his hands on the bar and leaned over it to talk to a blond bartender. Already, Emira was madly jealous. “It’s not a big deal,” she said. “We met that night at the grocery store and I just saw him on the train tonight. I did not think he’d roll up like this.”

Zara leaned in closer. “That’s the guy who filmed you that night?!”

“Girl, yes.”

“Why you so sneaky?”

“I didn’t think he’d come!”

Still looking over the railing, Shaunie asked, “Is he wearing an Everlane sweater?”

Emira rolled her eyes. “Why are you acting like I know what that is?”

Zara matched Shaunie’s posture as she eyed Kelley and his friends. A new song came on and Kelley began to nod his head and mouth the lyrics. “He’s like that one white guy at every black wedding who’s like, super hyped to do the Cupid Shuffle.”

“Ohmygod,” Shaunie said. “I fucking love the Cupid Shuffle.”

“This is weird though, right?” With a drink in her hand, Josefa trailed on. “I mean . . . he’s rul cute or whatever, but does someone wanna tell me why all his friends are black?”

Emira, Zara, and Shaunie rolled their heads toward their friend. “Ummmm . . .” Emira put a fist under her chin. “I don’t know, Sefa, why are yours?”

“First of all, rude.” Josefa put a hand in Emira’s face. “Second of all, I just got my 23andMe results back and I’m eleven percent West African, thank you very much.”

Zara scrunched up her face and asked, “Why you tryna play one-drop rule right now?”

“And third of all,” Josefa said, “I’m serious. I hope he doesn’t have a fetish or something. When I was on Match all these old white guys were tryna touch my feet. Asking me to call them papi and shit.”

“I hope he does try to touch some feet. Well done, sister.” Zara high-fived Emira. “I’m gonna support you in this because unlike some people, I am a good friend. I’m also gonna grind up on his friend with the fade.”

Josefa and Zara began to go back and forth over who would get to pretend like it was their birthday. Zara won the best two out of three in rock, paper, scissors, so when Kelley and his friends returned, they sang to her as she danced and blew out Josefa’s lighter. Shaunie generously accepted the attention from two of the four men (one of whom actually was celebrating his birthday) and Josefa got another to arm-wrestle her on the table. An hour later, Kelley tapped Emira and said, “Okay, miss. I owe you a drink.”

Kelley followed Emira downstairs and stood while she sat at the bar. Emira could tell that her teeth and lashes were glowing pink from the lights that bordered the counter’s edge. Kelley purchased Emira’s fourth drink of the evening, and then clinked his glass to hers. “Cheers to you,” he said, “for having reserves of patience I have never known.” After she thanked him and took a sip, Kelley said, “Tell me you aren’t in college.”

Emira crossed her legs. “No, I’m not in college.”

“You must be a dancer, then, right?” Kelley set his glass back on the bar. “You must be classically trained to do moves like . . .” He brushed his shoulders off with pouted lips.

“Oh wow, it’s like that.” Emira laughed. “That was a very special occasion. The kid I babysit, someone egged her house. Her mom wanted me to take her while they dealt with the police . . . so I could go to the grocery store and see more police. Get it?”

“I got it,” he said. “And that guy wasn’t a real cop, but okay. So what do you do when you’re not babysitting?”

Emira rested her elbow on the bar and grinned. “Are you gonna ask me what I do for fun next?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s super lame.”

“Okay, but it’s way better than asking how many siblings you have.”

“Fine, well . . .” she said. “I work as a transcriptionist and do some clerical work at the Green Party Philadelphia office uptown.”