Page 220 of What We Brave
"What kind of looks?"
This is the part I haven't said out loud. The part I've been circling around like if I don't look at it directly, it won't count. Because it shouldn't matter. These are strangers. Their opinions are irrelevant. I know this. I know this.
But it still sits like a rock in my chest.
"The women are... mixed. Some of them are curious. Some of them do this little pitying smile, likeoh honey, which one's cheating on you? Some of them just look confused. Some of them look like they want to give me a high-five."
"And the men?"
I take a long drink of wine.
"The men are different."
Jamila waits, gaze steady on me.
"Some of them just stare. Like they're trying to figure out the logistics. You can see them working through it — the mechanics, thesleeping arrangements, the—" I wave my hand. "They go straight to sex. Like the whole relationship is just a bedroom arrangement and they're trying to picture it."
Her lip curls. "Gross."
"It gets worse." My voice is steady, but my fingers are tight on the glass. "Some of them look at me like... like I'm athing.Not a person. A thing. Like being with two men means I'm — available. Open. Like I'm advertising something."
Jamila's face goes very still.
"There was a guy at the brewery. Last week. Reid went to the bathroom and Blake was at the bar getting drinks and I was alone at the table for maybe ninety seconds. This guy comes over. Smiling. Friendly. Says he noticed I was with 'those two guys' and was I—" I stop. Swallow. "He wanted to know if I was 'looking for a third.'"
"What thefuck."
"I said no. He laughed. Like it wasfunny.Like I'd made a joke. And then Blake came back with the drinks and the guy disappeared and I didn't say anything because?—"
She brushes my hair over my shoulder. "Because what would you say."
She so gets it. "Because what would Isay, Jamila? 'Hey, some creep hit on me because he thinks our relationship means I'm up for anything?' Blake would've gone looking for the guy. And Reid would've—" I shake my head. "They can't fix this. It's not something you fix. It's just... the tax. The thing I pay for being a woman with two men."
Jamila's quiet for a moment. Processing. Not the shocked kind of quiet — the recognition kind. I knew that she would get it. And I hate that she does. That she's had to live in that world too.
She nods, slow and a little sad. "When Kerry and I first started going out together," she says, "the looks were... educational. Women were mostly fine. Curious, sometimes. Weird about it, occasionally. But the men?" She shakes her head slowly. "The men looked at us like we were performing. Like we existed for their benefit. This one guy at a restaurant told Kerry she was 'too pretty to be a lesbian.' Like it wasacompliment."
"Jesus."
"And the worst part wasn't the comment. It was that Kerry barely noticed. She'd been out for years. She'd built up this — armor, I guess. But I was new to it. I was tracking every look, every whisper, every guy who stared too long. And I couldn't explain to her why it was eating me alive because she'd already made peace with it."
"That's exactly—" My throat closes. "That's exactly it. They don't see it because it doesn't land on them the same way. And I'm carrying all of it alone and I can't evenexplainwhy because they'd just want to protect me from it, and they can't."
"No," she says quietly. "They can't. Because it's not about any specific guy. It's about what it feels like to be a woman inside other people's assumptions."
The takeout is going cold. Neither of us is eating anymore.
"It's not the relationship," I say. "I need you to know that. What I have with them — it's the best thing in my life. When we're home, when it's just the three of us, it's—" I search for the word. "It's right. It's so right it scares me."
"I know."
"But when we're out there and I can feel people looking at me and I know what they're thinking—" My voice drops. "It makes me feeldirty, Jamila. And I hate that word. I hate that I'm even using it. Because there's nothing dirty about what we have. But those looks — they get in. They leave this... residue. And then I'm at the farmer's market holding both their hands and feeling brave and beautiful and then someone looks at me and suddenly I just feel?—"
"Reduced."
"Yeah." The word comes out small. "Reduced."
Jamila reaches across the counter and puts her hand over mine.
