“What?”
“Oh, nothing.” But she wore a smirk that said there was definitely something. “Please continue.”
“Well, he opened up and told me how his last relationship fell apart and almost cost him an election, and after that, he quit dating. Apparently he’ll start again after he’s achieved all his lofty goals, whatever those are.”
“That sounds like a lonely life.”
I couldn’t help the tinge of bitterness. “Maybe after he’s finally become president of America, he’ll ask out another perfect heir to a Connecticut political dynasty.”
“Oh, I’m loving that fire in your eyes.” Zoey’s paintbrush was moving a mile a minute. “You know what, this painting’s going to be too good for my client. I’m getting it hung in a gallery.”
I was definitely going to hang in some rich pervert’s man cave, but I’d processed that and made my peace with it. Right now, all I could think about was Tinsley the Harvard-educated heiress, the leggy Rockets cheerleader, and the string of women in between. “Zo, do you think—” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Zoey and I probably weren’t close enough yet for me to ask a question like this, but my gut told me I could trust her. I took a deep breath. “Do you think people believe Logan and I are together, or do you think they’re secretly laughing at the idea behind our backs?”
She set down her paintbrush. “What makes you ask that?”
I tried to shrug nonchalantly. “You know. There’s the way he looks and his commanding presence and the fact that he blazes through rooms like a comet. And then there’s me. I’m more of a...dwarf planet.”
“If you’re asking me whether I think you make the world’s sexiest opposites-attract couple, then yes, I do. If you’re asking if I think you’re pretty or interesting enough to date him—a question I hate but forgive because I’ve been there—then my answer is, Alexis, you’re lovely and perfect. Don’t listen to the haters on Twitter.”
There were haters on Twitter? Nope, not going there. “Thanks, Zo. That means a lot. But...you don’t think it’s weird because of...how accomplished he is? You don’t think people are saying, what’s that rising-star politician doing with that...non-rising-star normal person?”
“You don’t think you’re accomplished?”
I laughed uncomfortably. “I mean...not like him.”
She frowned. “I’m suddenly a lot less concerned about you and Logan and a lot more interested in why you don’t feel good enough.”
This had spiraled into too-vulnerable territory. I waved a hand. “You know what? Never mind. I’ve just been thinking about how I’m climbing closer to thirty and it would be nice to do something that left a bigger mark on the world, like Logan and Lee. But it’s not a big deal. Forget I said anything.” I focused on the circle of hookah smokers, who’d moved to the lying-on-the-ground-staring-at-the-clouds phase of the creative process. They looked quite peaceful.Be more like the stoners, I admonished myself.For once in your life, relax.
Zoey was quiet for so long I figured she’d gotten lost in painting, but suddenly she said, “Back to Logan’s feelings. I know I like to tease you—and I stand by the fact that he looks at you very longingly on TV—but you’re the one who’s living this, not me. If you think Logan’s unavailable and it’s important to protect your heart, then do it.”
I nodded. “Thanks. I do think he’s—”
“But.” She held up a paint-splattered finger. “I’d hate it if the way you sawyourselfcolored how you think other people see you. If that makes sense. Just—don’t discount people’s feelings because you’re used to discounting yourself.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s almost like you’re engaged to a therapist.”
She winked. “Annie’s upped my armchair therapy game. I’m a hot commodity here at the collective.”
I comforted myself with the thought that there was no way I had weirder problems than the paint-covered man who was now quietly sobbing in front of his canvas.
“You know what I can’t get out of my head?”
Zoey’s tongue stuck out a bit as she concentrated. “What?”
“There was this librarian at the conference who asked for help fighting a book ban. I read the book and she’s right. It’s not inappropriate at all. It’s really quite educational.” Truthfully, the book was so open and honest about sex that I’d learned a lot. I’d spent an hour last night combing through it, murmuring,Huh, so that’s been normal this whole timeandOh,that’swhat you call that thing. Which was a) something I would take to my grave, and b) more proof that the old methods of shame-fueled sex ed were not only ineffective but produced twenty-seven-year-old women who had to turn their whole lives upside down to reclaim their sexual power after being spurned in bed. What parent would wish that upon their child?
“I’ve been wracking my brain to come up with solutions for this librarian. All I can think is maybe Logan’s campaign could start a petition or organize a talk with the author. But it feels too small.”
“Why’s the book banned?”
“Well, it’s calledSex Is Not a Dirty Word, and it treats sex like it’s nothing to be ashamed of. But Gabby’s district—that’s the librarian, Gabby Bui—teaches abstinence-only. They’re saying it’s inappropriate for kids to read about their own changing bodies. It’s benign stuff, but people are going after all kinds of books these days. It’s gotten so bad the Library Council’s anti-censorship task force can’t keep up with all the requests for help.”
Zoey threw down her paintbrush so hard it clattered on the cobblestones.
“Whoa.” I startled. “Everything okay?”
She shook her head, chlorine-green strands flying. “We can’t let this happen. Those kids deserve shame-free sex education.”
