Chapter 41

“You do for you and I do for me, how about that?” Tom Alan asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’ve been sheltered, Kiki. I’m not complaining, but the sport, your chichi’srules…”

“He’s ‘my’ chichi now?”

“Ours. Papa. You go to the practice rink, Kiki, segregated schools, then home—a home that’s even segregated. That’s all you know.”

“And you know more, and that’s why you’re different.”

“When you know more, you’ll be different, too.”

“Then you’re admitting you’re different?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.”

“You’re different.”

“I guess.”

“Because of Milo Fisher. Stupid buttfucker.”

“Him and me both.”

“He’s nothing special, you know. How many medals has he won? And he’s not that good-looking.” Schoolgirl arguing tactics.

“Ikemen,” Tom Alan said.

“Eew.”