Page 64 of Juliet's Echo

“Welcome to reality.”

She immediately smacked my shoulder.

“Shut up, fool. I ain’t that bad.”

The smile on her face said otherwise. And honestly? I hoped she never changed.

“It’s a cover,” I continued, laughing.

“A cover for what?” she asked, taking the cherry off my slice and devouring it.

I leaned back in my chair, unsure if my speculation was out of line. Nothing in my character allowed me to judge people for their differences. Here I was, a Black rock-and-roller who, amongst my friends, would find more thrill in collecting vintage Burger King Disney cups than traveling to Martha’s Vineyard to BBQ with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Seriously, Kareem made a big thing out of that shit every year, and my father made us go. So needless to say, I knew a thing or two about being different.

In fact, I had the utmost respect for people who embraced their differences, whether they were medical, neurological, or just plain preference. But something wasn’t sitting right about Alonse’s claim. My mother had a better chance of training apenguin to fly than convincing me the tea she was spilling about that man was true.

“I feel like maybe there’s someone he doesn’t want to face,” I said. “Like he owes somebody money and they owe him an ass whooping or something.”

Juliet immediately laughed.

“I’m serious.”

“I know,” she giggled.

“His social reactions are not adding up to the side of the spectrum he claims to be on.”

I pointed my fork toward the ceiling as if presenting evidence before a jury.

“Now don’t get me wrong, he’s a few fries short of a Happy Meal.”

“Respectfully,” I added, throwing my hands up in mock surrender.

“But it ain’t because of agoraphobia.”

“Ooo, I forgot. You are a medical major. Talk yo shit, Dr. Mitchel,” she teased.

“I’m saying though.”

I popped an imaginary collar and brushed off my sleeves.

“You see me.”

Juliet laughed so hard she nearly dropped her fork.

“Oh God, here we go,” she chuckled.

The conversation after that drifted, as most conversations do.

We talked about my love for the guitar, her becoming an official sister of Alpha Rose Society, and how Mega and Yahya flirted more than a little.

Our project was to argue whether nepotism should be accepted as a legitimate practice in workplace hiring and promotion. We were on the side of yes, that it contributes to generational wealth, but we would defend our stance with a more professional response.

I motioned for her to follow me to my study so I could show her how I used Canva to merge the slides she'd emailed me for our presentation.

Allowing her to sit in the computer chair, I powered on the desktop. She looked at me and smiled.

“Can you answer my question?”

“Yup,” I responded, and said nothing else.