Page 61 of Pride and Protest

Sellout.

Wannabe.

“Okay, okay, this is not okay.”

I thought I had a thick skin but this... is a lot.

“Okay, you’ve all had your fun. You can stop now.” When more invectives poured in, Liza disabled comments.

Liza plopped herself on the plush bed. She had spent the entire night managing her family, then batting away internet trolls, and she collapsed like an overworked event coordinator.

Her phone buzzed. WIC. She picked up.

“You finally got time for me?” WIC cooed.

She didn’t reply.

“Look, I wanted to come. My tux was all picked out. But your boy has a real mean streak, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Liza asked, curious.

“Dorsey tracked me down, threatened me, calling me racial slurs, the whole gambit.”

“Racial slurs?” Liza’s stomach twisted. “What did he say exactly?”

“ ‘I don’t want people like you at my party.’ ”

“And then he called you the N-word?”

“He didn’t exactly say it, but you know how they code it. ‘Your type,’ ‘your kind.’ ”

“When did he call you?”

“Like three days ago. It was hell. Somebody like that—”

“So you’ve known for three days you weren’t coming?”

“Liza, you’re getting the wrong information out of this.”

“WIC, it’s been a long night. I’m tired.”

“Did you dance?”

“Not really.” The beginnings of a pounding headache pushed against her temples.

“That’s not what the internet says.”

“Oh?”

“Oh. You let him use you. Now you look like you’re chummy with these developers. I mean, I have pictures of you looking absolutely dazzled by this guy. They’re saying you left with a Tiffany box. Now that’s the new narrative: ‘Residents make nice with developers, nothing to see here, folks.’ ”

“I’m sorry, there was too much on my mind to be playing chess.”

“Right,” WIC continued, “and I didn’t go because you know I can’t be used by them. I won’t be their little dancing monkey.”

Liza opened her mouth to speak but stopped short. Had she been a tool the entire time? Had she missed something entirely? If she was honest with herself, it didn’t feel that way. At some point during the dance, everything they had ever said to each other had just fallen away. What was left was just a man and a woman slow dancing.

“Tell you what, I’ll stop by the hotel tomorrow and take you out.”