Into White by Randi Pink

next.” Amera motioned me toward the counter—her eyes still half-closed. Amelia refolded her arms and let out a hostile sigh. “Amelia. Be patient, my God. You are such a brat. Ouch!”
    â€œI’m so sorry,” said the Lancôme lady.
    Amera held her palm to her left eye. “You poked me in the eye with the liquid liner, seriously, bitch!”
    â€œI am so sorry,” she said again, staring as I approached the counter. “Hi, I mean, where’s your boyfr—?” She bumped a small blush display, and it went crashing to the floor.
    â€œLucy! What the hell is wrong with you?” the twins yelled.
    Lucy was on her knees, attempting to clean the broken blush from the marble-ish floor, but she was only making it worse—swirling the pinks into the violets, creating a tie-dye effect. Her head was down, and she kept mumbling, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
    â€œShe’ll be all right. Her eye needed a good poke,” Amelia snickered.
    â€œShut up, stupid.” Amera bent forward to look into the lighted magnifying mirror. Her eye was bloodshot, veiny, and surrounded by black stuff.
    â€œNo, not you. You.” Lucy pointed at me—stopping the twins in their tracks. “I’m a good person. I love the Lord, really. I go to church and I have black friends.” She stood and placed her hands on my shoulders. “I even let a few black women come to my house for Bible study. Every Wednesday!”
    â€œLucy, she’s not black. What the hell are you talking about?”
    Tears fell from Lucy’s eyes, leaving black streaks on her stark-white cheeks. Waterproof, my ass. “No, not her. Her boyfriend.”
    â€œNo! Oh, God no. It’s my bro—my … exchange family brother, Alex.” I attempted to laugh it off.
    Lucy pulled back, still holding on to my shoulders. “But you said that—”
    â€œNo, no, no, Miss Lucy.” I eased her hands away. “You must be confused. He’s not my boyfriend.”
    The twins laughed.
    â€œShe would never date that loser. She has Joshua Anderson chasing her around,” said Amera.
    â€œ The Joshua Anderson of Anderson Toyota, Jeep, Dodge,” added Amelia. “Plus, we don’t mix in Montgomery.”
    â€œWait,” Amera said. “Do you mix races in … wherever you’re from?”
    I shifted from one foot to the other. All three of them gawked at me, anticipating my answer like it was really important. “Right on the border of Kansas and Missouri. Most people don’t realize they share Kansas City.” There was a long pause as they continued rubbernecking me.
    â€œWell?” Amelia pressed.
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œSee! She would never date a black.”
    Lucy took a step back. “But the way you acted…”
    â€œI acted? You asked for it, lady.” I cleared my throat, realizing I was raising my voice. “I mean, you were pretty unpleasant.”
    â€œKat!” said the twins.
    â€œShe’s married to our cousin’s uncle or whatever.” Amelia patted Lucy on the upper back.
    Amera’s gaze was fixated on the magnifying mirror. “She’s practically family, Kat. Chill out.”
    â€œYou just called her a bitch.”
    â€œLike I said—practically family.” Amera backed away from the mirror and kissed Lucy on both cheeks. “If this gets infected, I’ll sue.” Lucy bowed her head and mouthed additional apologies. She, too, kowtowed to those ninety-pound twins—everyone did.
    We walked toward the exit. “I have to go to the little girls’ room. Wait here,” Amelia said before jogging back to the Lancôme counter.
    A few minutes later, Amelia tossed a Gus Von March bag at my chest. When I opened it, the Lily Pulitzer outfit and eighty-dollar water bra were inside.
    I stopped. “I can’t take