“I’m not being weird.” He turns to face me. “You’re acting like you’re hiding something.” And then as if the answer crosses his mind, his eyes go wide, and he says, “Oh shit, do you . . . do you uh, have someone here?” He can’t possibly be serious. What would I even do with a man right now? Introduce him to my witch zit? Tell him I’ve never in my life had an actual third eye on my face before. Ask him to braid my cheek hair? Or would I show him how bloated my stomach is, give him a little shimmy of my protruding stomach from what I can only assume is gas, since it’s too early to be showing
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