Chapter 34

“I’m Shannon, by the way,” he eventually says. “Have we done that already?”

“I don’t think so. Not officially, anyhow. I’m Ben.”

“You don’t sound French.”

“You should hear me arguing on the phone with my mom.”

“I mean ‘Ben.’ Doesn’t sound like a very French name.”

“Maybe not, but Beno?t is more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Ben-what?”

“Exactly.”

I was born in France, but raised in Colorado; I’ve only been to France a handful of times, none of them recent. My mother was born in this country and raised in Washington, D.C., but by French parents. Her mother is ethnically Gujarati, but French by virtue of being from Réunion. We’re still parsing the extent of my French-ness when Seth rolls in, only fifteen minutes late.

“Hiya, Benny-Boy” he warbles, planting a kiss on the top of my head as he swoops by; Seth enjoys flaunting his straight-but-not-narrow status. “What’s goin’ on?”

“What you get is what you see,” I tell him.