“That works!” Kai said, leaping from the couch and heading toward the door. Her head suggestively turned from the open liquor cabinet to Sol, but she didn’t say anything. Sol didn’t either.

Zed followed behind Kai, twirling her car keys. Sol stayed behind to take a quick swig. Her empty stomach erupted into a ruckus as the whiskey slithered down her throat, but she felt calm. Derrick could wait.

° ° °

Zed drove cautiously, the FBI press conference from earlier still haunting her. It was midafternoon, but traffic was light. Maybe Riverdale was more spooked than she realized. All Things Considered, her favorite NPR show, took on a new meaning as she noticed the traffic cameras at every stop along Highway 85. She’d never been pulled over before, but the ambient gaze of the law suddenly seemed to be confronting her head-on, vis-à-vis.

Her anxiety brought back memories of the day in fourth grade when she realized that her classmates knew she was Asian. She thought she had camouflaged herself well, hiding in plain sight among the Mexicans and Puerto Ricans, but when she took out some khmer num krok at lunch, the eyes that fell on her were observational, not incidental. They were still friendly eyes, but she could sense the re-sorting, the recategorization. Nothing was the same. Within days, the boys were suddenly eager to discuss anime and video games, and the girls wanted to talk about K-pop and skincare.

Zed had survived and eventually thrived in this odd environment, but not without effort. In order to thwart the egg roll jokes and the dumb questions about the geometric orientation of her vagina, she’d had to learn how to see herself as she was seen. It wasn’t too hard, especially since most people weren’t particularly committed to how they initially saw her, but Zed had always wanted to reverse the situation, to wield that power of seeing rather than just redirecting it in her favor. Last night, Apollo had briefly wielded it. She’d have to ask him about it, maybe experience it herself.

Highway 279 slowly eased into sight. Zed hit a right and continued toward Kenwood Park, their destination. She hated that she had to go all the way to another county for a decent park, but Kai refused to play at Flat Shoals, and Sol was banned from Independence Park for life.

The park was active. The sun had reached its merciful phase, its rays suddenly inviting after a day-long barrage of heat. Zed, Sol, and Kai filed out of the MINI armed with rackets, water bottles, and tennis balls. Noticing that the tennis courts were momentarily empty, Zed gestured for Sol and Kai to pick up the pace. Unwanted whistles and stares grazed them as they passed the fenced basketball court. “This is for you, Charlie’s Angels!” a shirtless white guy shouted at them, launching a three-point shot. It air-balled spectacularly, slinking toward the ground like a Raid-rinsed wasp. The other players laughed, but their stares intensified as the girls’ backsides came into view. Zed could feel their eyes on her ass. Sol rolled her shoulders back and hurled her arms skyward, extending her middle fingers.