Maame(59)

I look at her and quietly ask, “I’m not?”

“You’re not,” she says resolutely. “Maddie, what you’ll come to learn is that not everyone is capable of dating a Black woman. Not that—”

Shu coughs.

“Or an Asian woman,” Nia adds, and Shu nods. “Not that men who do are somehow superior, but there’s a level of learning and understanding that goes into it. You don’t just date her but her history too. Too much is going on and revealing itself for you to think love will conquer all. Does he educate himself, follow the news, raise his voice in uncomfortable conversations? Does he ever question the system that works very well for him but does the opposite for you? He doesn’t have to do it with a megaphone, but he does have to do it. You don’t want a boyfriend who isn’t racist, Maddie. You need a boyfriend who is actively anti-racist.

“Ben probably isn’t even aware he’s projecting these microaggressions,” Nia continues. “Hey, I’m sleeping with a Black girl and like it, I can’t be racist! In his head, he’s chosen Sophie because he’s known her longer or maybe they work in similar fields, whatever, but really, a man like that clearly exists in a certain environment and maybe telling his parents, or ‘explaining’ you to his friends, is just too much hassle.”

Too much hassle. Even the idea that this could be true makes my heart break. Why didn’t I get dinners out or a boat ride? Why didn’t he introduce me to anyone? Was I ever really his plus-one or was it always going to be Sophie? I want to make excuses. Maybe she’s a big Marvel fan, maybe she loves eating pasta and watching wildlife documentaries; I only met her once so maybe ninety-nine percent of the time she’s really, really nice. But then I’m also all of those things and these excuses don’t explain the blatant preferential treatment.

I think about the macarons and the thigh pinching and the eye contact and my submissiveness. I can’t picture Sophie in the same situation. Again, I don’t know her, but can assume she’d have said something like “Macarons at eight A.M.? Fuck off, Ben.”

He wouldn’t have even made the attempt, but he knew he could with me.

I realize I only want to make excuses because I really tried with Ben and not much hurts worse than being deemed not worth the effort after.

“I hated sex with him,” I confess, “but I still did it.”

Nia freezes and Shu says, “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Maddie,” Nia says. “Did he make you?”

“No!” I move away. “I didn’t really want to, but I didn’t say no either. It was more that I liked that he wanted to. I thought it meant something, that … that he loved me. Maybe.”

“Using you ‘for now’ isn’t love, Maddie,” Nia says gently. “Enduring sex isn’t what being loved feels like either.”

I feel silly for asking, but here goes: “What does love feel like?”

“Sunshine and rainbows?” Nia offers.

“She’s not seven,” Shu says. “It’s not always about what it feels like, Mads, because sometimes it feels pointless. It’s about what love is. Which is trust, commitment, empathy, and respect. It means really giving a shit about the other person.”

Nia nods in agreement.

“How do you both know all of this?”

Nia and Shu look at each other, then simultaneously answer, “Practice.”

“I wish I’d known this before I met Ben.”

“Some things you’re not meant to be saved from,” Nia says. “Some things have to be lessons.”

“And you don’t share much,” Shu says, “about anything. You kinda keep things to yourself. But now that’s going to change, so let’s talk next steps. I think you should buy the book The Alchemist.”

“I’ve already read—”

“It’s not for you to read,” Shu says. “We’re going to use it to set Ben’s house on fire.” She pauses for effect. “Irony.”

“I think you mispronounced ‘arson-ry,’” I tell her. “Which happens to be a crime.”

“Only if you get caught.” She turns back to me. “You still got his address, right?”

Before I answer, the doorbell rings and when Shu goes to answer it, Nia holds out a forkful of spinach.

I turn my head away. “Salad for breakfast is unnatural.”

She laughs, says, “Grow up,” and shoves the fork into my mouth.

“Hey, Mads,” Shu shouts from the corridor. “It’s the guy who fucked you but didn’t want to date you. Should I get rid of him?”

I run to the door, which happens to be wide open. “Shu, my neighbors.”

“The dickhead’s here,” she says.

“Please, call me Ben.” He tries to smile, but he’d have had better luck with Nia. Shu grimaces. He looks at me. “Oh, your hair is different.”

“Yeah, she’s Black,” says Shu. “Her hair changes all the time. What do you want?”

He winces. “Can we talk, Maddie?”

I think about what Shu said about Ben’s lips and eyes and, suddenly, I can’t quite spot what I found attractive in him to begin with. His face is unnaturally long, even ghoul-like in the wrong light.