Page 14 of Pride and Protest
“Tell that to everyone else. All my life I’ve been treated like some kind of museum exhibit. And the boys... the boys we grew up with don’t want to date me.”
“What doyoucare what boys want?” His sister had renounced men a long time ago.
“I didthen. And I need to break free of that girl. She was so desperate to fit in.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to go to the extreme. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for Isaiah.”
“Don’t mention him. Unlike you,I’veaccepted what I’ve done and know it’s a part of me. This is about me expressing myself. I had to pay consultants one thousand dollars a session to teach me how to fix my hair. I rely on a team of seven people to tell me which makeup shades go best with my skin. Copying everyone around me only works if you look like everyone around you.”
It suddenly flashed through Dorsey’s head that Liza would be the perfect person to talk to his sister.It’s called a twist-out, and it’s magnificent.But he had made fun of Liza’s hair. Dorsey dropped his head in frustration. He wished he could take that damned night back.
Dorsey took in a ragged breath. “Look, I can’t pretend to fully understand what it feels like to be in your shoes. But I beg you to think, before you write some tell-all about your life, who else it might affect.”
“Yes, Datu. We all live in service of your image.” Gigi hung up on him.
Nobody needed to know about all that dreadful business.
HALFWAY IN LOVE
Marley was a frequent caller on Liza’s show. Lizanormallyenjoyed her.
“Oh, you showed up last night, Liza B.! I mean, at first it was a little sad because you got dissed when you asked Crazy Rich Asian to dance. But photobombing Channel 4 was the best revenge!” Liza just now noticed how much Marley’s voice grated on her nerves.
“Thank you. But photobombing Channel 4 had nothing to do with me wanting to dance.” Liza tried to keep the bite out of her voice. “I was trying to bring attention to the crisis of affordability in our neighborhood.” She didn’t want to be seen as a woman scorned instead of an activist.
“Oh, come on, honey. Everyone in that room wanted a piece of that man. And he was wearing the hell out of that suit! I wish he would wear me like that—”
“The suit was... good.” Liza was the last person to not give a good tailor their due. “But let’s focus here. We struck a major public relations blow to their woke development image.”
“Blow. Mm-hmm.”
“Thank you for calling, Marley.” Liza turned the next song’s volume up as she turned the woman’s sound down.
It had only been a week since the gala, and Liza was still getting a lot of social media attention for her stunt. “Somebody saw me on the news!” she sang. “A William somebody of PBI.” Her family was gathered around the kitchen table while Maurice scrambled eggs in long basketball shorts, no shirt, high white socks, and black flip-flops. How could he cook with oil and no shirt on?
“PBI? What even is that?” Janae asked.
“I’ll find out when I meet up with them in Greenbelt. He says they have experience outbidding Pemberley. He thinks we could be partners!” Liza finished the last part in a squeal.
“Liza, what do you think they’re going to do? They are only going to make it seem like they were in charge of your little protest the whole time,” Janae said. She pulled plates out of the dishwasher.
“The cause is won by more than one soldier, Janae. I can share the spotlight with the PBI.”
“I don’t think there’ll be much sharing going on,” Janae said. Her phone buzzed for the third time in a row, and she looked down and laughed.
“Are y’all texting now?” Liza asked.
“Who?”
“Heffa—”
“He’s cute and funny, okay? That’s it. I like to talk to him. Look at this meme he sent.”
Liza looked over at her sister’s phone. The picture was neither funny nor cute. It was the sort of thing you laugh at onlywhen you like a guy. Liza’s face must have shown her opinion because Janae snatched her phone back.
“Janae, he seems... nice,” Liza offered.
Janae held her phone to her chest. “You just don’t think he’s genuine.”
