Page 71 of I Can't Even Think Straight
“I’m first on the Oculus.”
Nathan and Kwesi spring up
from the massive sofa
we’re all sitting on. All apart from Kojo,
who’s on a footstool.
Matt gives me a gesture,
a flat hand, palm facing down.
The rest of The Boys rise
and follow Nathan and Kwesi.
“Didn’t I say he should’ve taken the money?”
Abdi jokes. “This party’s dead.”
Sam looks back at me and Matt
on the sofa. “You man coming up?”
“Yeah, just a second,” says Matt.
“Are you good, Kai?” Sam’s eyes search me.
“Yes, I’m good,” I reply.
I’m not sure why
Sam’s worried about me:
he hasn’t paid much attention to me
before now.
“Good.” Sam nods and leaves.
Across the living room,
Nicky Anderson sits on
the lap of her girlfriend,
on an oxblood-red leather armchair,
their group of friends at their feet
on a scattering of floor cushions.
They hold court like a royal couple.
They regale their audience
with a shared story:
