Just You by Jane Lark Page B

Dillon said something that made Robin laugh. Dillon was still blind to the truth of life around here.
    I shut the door behind me when I went into the hall. It was quiet and dark. I flicked the switch and the light blinked a couple of times before coming on.
    I half expected it to be a sales man, or Miriam from next door begging a cup of sugar, or something. I looked through the spyglass.
    Frick. Portia.
    I pulled the door open. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’m sorry.”
    She stood there, dressed in her silly woolen hat with its trailing plaits hanging over her ears. It was an out-of-office look. Her eyes glowed a strange gray in the yellow electric light seeping from the flat. She breathed out, the steam of her breath misting in the cold air. The outdoor landing was open on the far side, and between the concrete pillars I could see the night sky. It was cloudy, the black stained orange by the city lights.
    As my gaze came back to her, I rested my shoulder against the doorjamb and crossed my arms. “It’s pointless, Portia.” But what the fuck was she doing here, on her own, at night? She stood out like one of the Kardashians walking around in the middle of a Call of Duty game.
    Shit. I’d have to take her home.
    “I don’t know what else to say to you–” she started.
    “Then say nothing.” I wasn’t interested in hearing her excuses. I turned to get my coat. “I’ll take you back.”
    “Justin…” She gripped my arm. “I want you to come to dinner with my parents. They’re in New York. Would that redeem me? I’m sorry I wasn’t ready to go public in the office but… I want you back. I miss you.”
    “Justin!” Mom’s voice reverberated through the closed door behind us. “Justin!” Portia let go of me at the same moment the door into the hall opened.
    Mom stopped dead, surprise knocking her off balance like a ten-pin, as if pretty, white , Portia, was a bowling ball.
    I could hear the others talking and laughing at the table, but I couldn’t see them.
    I looked back. Portia’s hand lifted to take off her hat, she looked nervous.
    “Justin?” Mom called my attention back to her.
    “Mom, this is Portia, the girl I’ve been seeing?” I hadn’t told her it was over.
    Portia gripped her woolen hat in front of her. “Hello, Mrs. Preston, I’m sorry to disturb you.”
    “Did this boy ask you over here and not tell me?” Mom looked embarrassed.
    Portia’s perfect, slightly British accent set her apart. It was clear she hadn’t grown up anywhere near here.
    “No, Mom–” I interjected… but she cut me off.
    “Well, the boy shouldn’t have asked you to come out here–not alone. It’s not safe. You’d better come in and have something to eat, sweetheart?”
    Frick.
    “No, I–”
    Portia looked at me, but before I could say yes or no, Mom said, “Have you eaten, child?”
    Portia shook her head. I raised my eyebrows.
    “The girl hasn’t eaten, Justin, let her eat … ”
    Mom thought I just wanted to go out, not that I was trying to avoid the torture of letting Portia in–that was all I’d wanted to do all week–I just didn’t feel like being kicked again.
    I sighed. I wasn’t gonna win this. Mom didn’t like the word no.
    Moving past me, Mom’s fingers closed over Portia’s and her hat too as Portia gripped it tight. “We were just sitting down.”
    Cool.
    “Well now. My boy Justin’s shocked me, I’m not gonna lie, and so you’re gonna have to forgive my rudeness, sweetheart. I had no idea you were white, child. Your hand is freezing. Justin, how could you leave the girl on the step?” She kept talking as she led Portia along the hall.
    “Hey.” I heard chairs scraping as Robin and Jake must have seen her and stood up. They’d be shocked too.
    “This is Justin’s girl. Get her a chair, Robin.”
    “Mom, her name’s Portia.” I corrected as I followed them in.
    “See, I said he’s shocked me. Here I am being rude to you, Portia. Justin, aren’t you