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320 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 30, 2016
My parents had adopted Malina from Honduras when she was a baby. And though she’d grown up not speaking a lick of Spanish, she had, over the past four years or so, developed a random, quasi-Spanish accent. Last fall, she’d decided she needed to get in touch with her culture, so she’d started hanging out with a group of Honduran women she’d met at Hymland College—aka Hymen College, to the local youth.
As far as I could tell these women did nothing but compete to see who could wear the croppedest crop top, have the highest ponytail, and look the most nonchalant while she stared at her nails and chomped gum. Every now and then they’d break out in snarling fits of rapid-fire Spanish. But when they spoke in English they had the lowest, most languid voices.
Malina still didn’t speak Spanish, except for a few random words she’d picked up from the group,
but the accent fascinated me. It was like she was a non-Hispanic actor studying to play a Hispanic role and presenting the most botched, ridiculous stereotype imaginable.
“Bobby’s Discount Dentist doesn’t even make any sense. It sounds like Bobby owns a dentist who is available for a reduced price. When in fact, he’s offering discounted dental services.”
“Aw, lay off Bobby.” Kamen finished the last of his sucker, then started on the cherries. “If you went to him once, you’d see how cool he is. I’m getting Mexico prices there.”
Kamen had once gotten three cavities filled for ninety dollars when he’d stopped at a dentist’s office during a trip to Mexico. God only knew what they’d been filled with.
He helped me to the waiting room, where Bobby charged me Mexico prices.
Latin music blared.

He made me want to fuck loudly and messily, while I was crying or scared or delirious with joy.

"I am a bitch. I can say 'bitch'." She got up and went to the silverware drawer to get another spoon. "Just like you can use the N-word."
"I don't want to use the N-word."
She shrugged and took a bite of yogurt, slurping it into her mouth. "Babi. It wouldn't kill you to learn your culture, you know?"
[…]
"My culture is minivans and caramel macchiatos." The last thing I needed today was a lecture from my sister on not being black enough.
"My dad actually has a big thing about how it's important for black men to be good role models and represent the community positively. I've never felt that way. Like, I don't see black people as a 'community'. Just a diverse group of humans who are under no obligation to like or support one another. However, my friend Dave thinks this is funny because technically the kink community is the same way. Yet I talk about that community like it's a homogenous group in need of better representation and better leaders. So…" I shrugged.










