Page 100 of Backlash

“Why not?”

“It’s expensive, for one thing.” I have to yell the words after her, because she is already off at breakneck pace, headed down a pedestrian-only alley full of red, cobbled bricks that match most of the buildings lining either side of the way.

“Exactly my point,” she calls over her shoulder, refusing to slow down. “It’s expensive because everyone wants to live here. Because it’s awesome.”

“For some.”

“What’s not to like? Look,” she points at a Middle Eastern cafe, “they like hummus. We like hummus.”

“True.” I can’t fight her, not when she’s like this. Plus, hummus is delicious.

“Look, a sex shop. They like sex. And we like sex.”

“I’m not sure—”

It’s too late. She walks in like she owns the place.

I dip in right behind Adair, who has stopped dead in her tracks with her back to me.

“Hiya,” a shop girl calls to us, striding out from behind the counter. She’s got purple hair cut down to a severe bob, incredibly good ink, and the sort of perky disposition you expect in a kindergarten teacher on the first day of school—if Kindergarten teachers sold vibrators.

“What brings you in today?”

I can’t see Adair’s face, but I know she is overwhelmed because I’m overwhelmed. I’ve lived in New York my whole life, and I’ve never actually gone inside somewhere like this.

She backs up a few steps, careful to keep smiling at the clerk, and holds her hand out, searching for mine. “Oh, not much? I’m out with my boyfriend and I don’t think he particularly wanted to come in here.”

The clerk gives Adair the slightest eye roll and smiles knowingly. “That’s too bad. We have lots of ways to have fun here.”

“I bet,” Adair agrees, like she’s talking about the weather or something.

The fuck? They’re best friends, already?

“Well,” the shop girl waits for a suitably meaningful pause to develop, “I won’t pry. Let me know if you have any questions. And you should. I don’t even know what some of this stuff is for.”

Adair finds my hand at last and leads me back into the narrow canyon of vice.

“You don’t have to pretend like you want to be in here, you know,” I say, trying not to sound judgmental while keeping my eyes on her. Finally, she sighs.

“Come on, lover,” she says, pulling me along after her, out the door.

“Do stop in again. Maybe when you’ve had a chance to loosen him up?” the shop girl calls after us.

“Sooo… why don’t we stick to eating?”

“Embarrassed, Ford?” she asks, even though her cheeks are faintly pink.

“I just don’t think we need any help in that department.” I eye the colorful window display. “Unless you’re planning to replace me?”

“Never,” she promises.

We don’t get far before she slows down.

“How far have we walked today?” Adair says before waving away her own question. “Let’s find someplace to sit down and eat, okay?”

I gawk at her. “More food?”

“Are you judging me?”