Melissa took a photo of Sara, Frannie and Elizabeth as the three of them were sitting at a tiny round table in the food court. She quickly sent the photo via her phone to her nosy father. He was on the line now. She was standing around the corner near the restrooms where she’d told her friends she was going when she’d gotten up five minutes ago.

      “Satisfied?” she asked sarcastically.

      “The other two work at Sara’s bookstore?”

      “Yes! Now, I’ve got to go.”

      “Melissa, don’t you have any white friends?”

      “If you must know, no I don’t. And those kids you’ve invited to my party tomorrow night will only come because you’re filthy rich, not because they’re my friends. The only person coming tomorrow night who is my friend will be Frannie.”

      “It’s not healthy for you to hang out with black people all the time, Melissa. Do you have something against your own race?”

      “You don’t get it, do you?” Melissa asked, exasperated. “Unlike you, I don’t care what color my friends are, just that they’re my friends. I’m ashamed of you.”

      Erik sighed on his end. He really stank as a parent. Now his daughter thought he was a bigot. “Melissa, don’t you think you’re going to be ostracized by the white kids in town if you’re always hanging out at that black bookstore?”

      “I really don’t care, and Sara sells all kinds of books at Aminatu’s Daughters, not just books written by black authors. Maybe if you’d come in sometime you’d see for yourself, but all you want to do is complain. I’m going now. Bye!”

      She hung up quickly and stuck the phone in her jacket pocket.

      Rejoining her friends, she asked, “What did I miss?”

      Before she had gone to the bathroom, they had been boy-gazing. The mall was packed with teenagers. They were theoretically picking a boyfriend for Melissa.

      Two tanned boys who looked like they might be high school seniors were sitting on a bench near the waterfall a few feet to the left of them. “The boy in the blue football jersey is very cute,” Sara said. “Do you know him, Melissa?”

      During their selection process, Melissa had known several of the boys by name. They went to her high school. They totally ignored her as a matter of course, but she knew them from class or by reputation.

      The boy that Sara had pointed out was in her advanced Algebra class. He sat in front of her, and he’d never once turned around to say hello to her. She could have been a piece of furniture for all he cared.

      “The boy in the football jersey is Danny Keener, the other guy is Tyler Gaines.”

      “Is Danny smart?” Sara wanted to know. He had the kind of dark good looks that reminded her of the actor who portrayed Clark Kent on Smallville.

      “He makes A’s in Advanced Algebra, so he must be,” said Melissa.

      “Do you think he’s handsome?” Elizabeth asked. She had never played this game of observing males simply for their beauty. When she thought of dating a fellow student she wanted to know if he was a good student, if he was a good son, and if he was a spendthrift or not. Dating, to her, was a means to an end. The end was marriage.

      This notion of dating for fun was intriguing, though.

      Melissa’s face turned red when Elizabeth asked her if she liked Danny’s looks. She had secretly been in love with Danny Keener for two years now. She held out absolutely no hope that he would ever notice her. He dated girls like Sherry Newcastle who was beautiful and a cheerleader. Plus, she had thighs that didn’t touch. Thighs that were trim and toned. Melissa knew she’d never have thighs like that. Therefore, she would never be noticed by Danny Keener.

      She didn’t lie to her friends, though. “I think he’s adorable,” she said. “But he’s never even looked my way.”

      “Well,” said Sara. “He’s looking your way now.”

      Tyler Gaines, a tall, gangly boy with too-long blond hair that fell in his eyes and Tarzan’s style of communicating was pointing at Melissa, then back at his chest.

      Sara, Frannie, and Elizabeth had no idea how to translate his sign language, but Melissa immediately knew that, “He wants to come over and talk to us.”

      “Tell him to come on,” said Frannie. “And to bring the cute one with him.”

      Melissa smiled shyly at Tyler and motioned for him to come on over.

      Tyler got up and loped over with Danny beside him. “Hey, Melissa.”

      “Hey, Tyler.”

      “This is Danny Keener.”

      “And this is Sara Minton, Frannie Anise, and Mary Makebo,” Melissa said. Like everyone else besides Sara and Frannie, Melissa knew Elizabeth by an alias.

      “Ladies,” said Tyler with a respectful nod. His eyes lingered on Elizabeth. Then he looked at Melissa. “I think it’s cool that your dad’s giving you a sweet-sixteen.”

      “I nearly gagged when he suggested it, but it’s growing on me,” said Melissa.

      “Cool!” said Tyler. That word was apparently his favorite in the English language.

      “I was wondering if I could bring Danny. The invitation said I could bring a guest. It doesn’t have to be a person of the opposite sex, does it?”

      Melissa was momentarily struck dumb. What could he possibly mean by that? He and Danny weren’t gay, were they? “No, Tyler. You can bring whomever you want to. Danny’s welcome.”

      “Cool, ’cuz, see Danny just broke up with his girlfriend and he’s kinda down right now and I figure you’re gonna have lots of ladies coming to your party tomorrow night. Maybe he’ll meet someone.”

      Danny looked as if he wished the floor would swallow him whole. But his parents had obviously instilled good manners in him because he smiled at Melissa and said, “Thanks for having me, Melissa. I’m looking forward to it.”

      “Sure, anytime,” said Melissa, smiling nervously.

      “Well,” Tyler said, yanking on the sleeve of Danny’s football jersey. “See you tomorrow night, Melissa. Ladies, it was nice to meet you.”

      Danny smiled at Melissa before turning to leave.

      When they’d gone, Melissa heaved a sigh of relief and said, “I almost peed my pants.”

      To which her friends burst out laughing.