On Rotation

by Shirlene Obuobi

Men finding excuses to stop me in the street had ceased being a compliment and become more of a nuisance not long after I hit puberty, and I had since perfected the art of wheedling myself out of unwanted conversations.

Her words slashed through me like a knife across my chest. It was like my own mother had sat back and listened to me speak, licked her fingers, and put my enthusiasm out like a flame. And she had done it so dispassionately, with the same regard that she crossed an item off a grocery list.

“Your eyes have set man’s heart ablaze,” he recited quietly. “And you have had your will of him.”* He paused. “James Joyce.”

“That finding someone to love you romantically is actually kind of easy,” Nia said. “There’s a whole cocktail of brain chemicals at work telling you to obsess over this other person. Plus a rulebook for relationships we’ve all been given since infancy. Friendship doesn’t have any of that, and so finding a person who will hold you down for no reason is rare.

Reminds me of my sister Mary.