Chapters (37)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Acknowledgments
- Readers Guide
- DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“It was hot outside. I wanted to stay cool and not get tan lines.” Joy giggles at the memory. The audacity of College Joy was truly unmatched. “Continue.”
“I watched you the whole time as you worked the room, going from table to table and leaving a trail of dazzled people in your wake. I didn’t even notice that there was a girl who had your exact face right next to you. It was you. You were the one.” Malcolm touches her hand. “Finally, it was my turn. You walked up to me and said, ‘Hey, hey, what’s this mean?’ smiling like you already knew.”
“Nope.” Joy shook her head. “I was smiling because you were cute. You and your little bow tie—you were so serious too.”
“I was. Still am,” he agreed. “When I told you what asexual meant your smile started to disappear, getting smaller and smaller, and your eyes were getting bigger. I thought, Great, she’s gonna laugh and say that’s not real. So I start steeling myself because I’d been dealing with that erasure bullshit all day and I was fucking tired. But then, you looked at me and said—”
“Oh shit,” they say together and laugh.
Malcolm continues, “ ‘Oh shit. That’s a real thing? There’s a word?’ You snatched up one of the pamphlets I made, mouth completely hanging open.”
“I started asking you a million questions. I was such a rude little shit about it. ‘Do you feel like this too?’ ” Joy covers her eyes in embarrassment, groan turning into a yawn.
“Then you said, ‘Gimmie your number.’ Not a request, a full-on demand. I was so shocked I just gave it to you.”
“Excellent choice.”
“I waited all day for you to text me. Constantly checking my phone, getting my hopes up that maybe you wanted to hang out or something.”
“Wait, you never told me that?” Did he? Joy doesn’t remember, but she’s so sleepy and trying so hard to focus on her parts of telling the story. That feels new, though. It must be.
“It took two weeks for you to remember I existed. I got a text in the middle of organic chemistry: Hey, hey it’s Joy! If you’re not busy let me buy you lunch. I knew it was you. You never told me your name, but immediately I just knew.”
“I was so wild back then.” Her voice is muffled by sleep. “Couldn’t tell me nothing. Anything I wanted, I went for it. No shame. No doubt. Just balls-to-the-wall confidence.” She laughs. “God, I was amazing.”
“You still are. Just older.”
“No. Now I’m an almost old lady who’s scared of everything.”
Something warm touches her face.
“Joy?”
Her eyes flutter open, but she’s fading fast. Only Malcolm’s face is in focus—everything else is a blur.
“Joy?”