“Stop,” Lili implores, but she hides a grin behind a sip of her drink. She’s grateful, too, that Amina isn’t resurfacing their bathroom conversation from upstate; that she’d sized Aleksandr up, when Lili led him over to her friends, through the party, before asking:Do you execs prefer handshakes or firm nods of acknowledgment? I’ve got both on offer.It had made Aleksandr laugh, Amina looked pleased with herself, and Lili relaxed. As Aleksandr greeted James, who he already knew, the squeeze of Amina’s hand, grasping hers, had made Lili feel like Amina had her back, protected; supported. Trusting that Lili knew what she was doing.
“Fine, fine,” Jackie relents. “Come on, let’s dance, I love this song.”
“Do you have any idea what these lyrics are saying?” Amina asks. “Did any of your high school Spanish stick with you? It’s straight dirty talk, it’s filthy.”
“Isn’t it glorious? I let the music guide me,” Jackie whines, starting to sway. “I have no need for lyrics, when I feel things this elementally, thisfundamentally—come on, Lili—”
“I’m good,” Lili says, laughing as Jackie tries to tug her towards the dancing.
“I’m sure Aleksandr would enjoy it,” Amina says, wicked gleam in her eyes as she follows Jackie.
“Goodbye,” she says emphatically, winding through the crowd back towards the couches.
“—I’m just saying, the decline of liberal democracy isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
“Christ, Elijah,” Lili says, resting a hand on Aleksandr’s shoulder as she perches on the armrest beside him. “This is a party.”
Elijah scowls. “The struggle never rests,” he says. Around her waist, she feels Aleksandr’s arm settle.
“The struggle for what, exactly?” she retorts. “Last week, you were saying ISIS had merit as a viable state.”
“No, no, what I was saying was that Jesus wasalsoa radical in the desert.”
Under her hand, Lili feels Aleksandr’s shoulders shake with suppressed laughter.
“Wouldn’t you say you’re missing some... I don’t know, historical facts?” Varsha suggests.
Elijah makes a dismissive noise. “What is history but propaganda, really, at the end of the day?”
“Ah, well—see, that’s—”
As the conversation shifts away from them, Lili runs her hand over Aleksandr’s shoulder. He glances at her, a faint smile, and around her waist, his arm tightens, pulling her into his lap. Lili lets out a quick breath, balancing her drink, but she settles against his chest, arm slung around his shoulders.
“Hey,” she says, looking up at him in the dark, the roar of noise. The linen of his shirt is soft against the bare skin of her arms. “Elijah bulldozed into the conversation?”
“He had opinions about your roommate’s parents buying property,” Aleksandr concedes.
Lili rolls her eyes. “Yeah, he’s decided faux-Marxism is his personality this month.”
“And I thought I had it bad with you,” Aleksandr replies.
“At least I have some respect for history. These things we call facts.”
“I didn’t know those were optional.”
“Get deep enough into Bushwick, and anything’s possible.”
“Your friends are—interesting,” he says.
Lili grimaces. “Elijah isnotmy friend. He just thinks Amina’s hot, he’s been waiting to shoot his shot since college.”
“Isn’t Amina the one whose studio this is?” Aleksandr asks, frowning. “And who’s dating Greene’s kid?”
“Yeah, but I think Elijah would argue that monogamy is a capitalistconstruct, intended to entrap us within structures of exploitative labor. And something about lizard overlords.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Aleksandr mutters.
“—and you—you said you work in finance, right?” Elijah says, gesturing at Aleksandr, louder voice interrupting. Lili feels a flare of annoyance.
