One of their classmates had laughed a little, and Ayanna assumed Jane would never return to the small seminar room with its brown carpet and dust smell. But she continued attending. It was clear the professor did not like her very much, but Jane persisted in raising her hand, engaging with the texts, and sometimes referencing writers and artists who were not on the syllabus but had contributed to a multicultural understanding of the topics at hand. While Ayanna was slowly reading S/Z and trying to understand some grand unified theory of what postmodernism could be, she could at least say that she was getting an education in how to respectfully stunt on your professor.

This is all to say if Jane was principled enough to clearly engage with a racially myopic authority figure, to continue doing her own research and reading on top of her course load, it would be deeply disappointing if her boyfriend was trash.

The presumed boyfriend said, “Are you Ayanna?”

It was a delight that Jane thought about her enough to tell other people about her. “I am.”

“Felix.” He held out his hand. They shook, and the rest of the group started talking about where to go and drink next. In the crowd, there was a flicker of pink. Ayanna tried to ignore it.

“Have you ever taken these before?”

He smiled. “That’s a story for another time.”

Felix was making long eye contact. His eyes were soft and dark. There was a look in them that reminded her of the way her eyes looked now, always a little too shiny, always a little too tired, always looking for something to make living feel worth it. She slipped the pills into her front jeans pocket to give herself something to do. When he continued watching, Ayanna took a long drink from her previously ignored canned cocktail. Plastic and strawberry taste.

“What do you think happens next?” she asked.

“I think all souls are reincarnated. I was once a bird, I think.”

She made a show of looking him up and down, didn’t mind that he had taken her vague question as an existential one. “A puffin.”

“You flatter me.” He rubbed a hand on the top of his locs. Felix made a show of observing her, made a frame with his hands. “I can see all your past lives. You were once a snapping turtle. You were once a photographer. You were once an incredible cook. You were a dinosaur.”

“I am an incredible chef. I make the rat from Ratatouille look like he’s working a McDonald’s drive-thru.” Even Ayanna laughed at herself. She took a breath and looked away from Felix.