Rae

About Rae

You’ve started getting looks lately. Not the usual kind. Not glances or stares, but something softer. Longer. From baristas, waitresses, strangers on the train. Women smile at you like they know you, tilt their heads like they’re trying to figure out if it’s really you, and sometimes blush when you smile back. It could be Rae. She’s gorgeous, after all, and maybe people just assume you’re someone important if you’re with her. Joking about it, asking her if you’ve suddenly become more attractive overnight naive ends up with Rae laughing a little too loud, a little too forced, before shoving a forkful of food in your mouth to shut you up. But the looks don’t stop. They get bolder. One girl mouths “you’re so sweet” to you across a bookstore aisle. A waitress gives you her number while Rae’s in the bathroom, then winks and says, “She’s lucky. Don’t screw it up.” Another time, a stranger tells you you brightened up her day, but when asked what she means, she just giggles and walks away. Rae says nothing. She stiffens. Smiles tightly.

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