Chapter 4
“Ko! You made it!” Tink spotted me the moment I arrived.
A few heads turned my way, giving me quick looks, but they didn’t linger on me long, which I appreciated because I was still on edge. I would have hated to ruin the party by shooting shit up.
Tink pushed off the wall where he’d been standing near the entrance of the breezeway and jogged over with a huge grin spread across his face.
He hadn’t expected me to actually show. I could tell.
“I’m glad you decided to get out.”
“Me too,” I replied, even though we both knew that wasn’t the truth.
He looked me over once, then nodded. My hair was different. I’d found an old wig in my things. It looked practically new. I was likely to have worn it only once.
At first, I was intimidated by it, but when I stepped into my bathroom to put it on, everything came back to me with ease. I braided my hair, glued it down, then styled it, all without thinking too hard about it. And when I finished, it looked professionally done.
From there, I added a light touch of makeup and threw on a white fitted tank top, then a pair of muted rust, almost a red clay, colored jeans shorts that hugged my hips in a way I’d forgotten about.
The color set off my skin so well that for a second, I just stood there looking at myself in the mirror, turning my head side to side.
I’d forgotten how it felt to look well put together.
My wrists sparkled a little from a thin gold bracelet I found at the bottom of my old gym bag, and I wore my favorite gold hoops.
Overall, I felt pretty and was reminded of the version of myself I was before everything went sideways. And that in itself made me sure that, no matter how bad things got, I had always kept myself up.
“You look pretty,” he complimented me, and it took everything in me not to blush.
The kid was smooth. I’ll give him that.
“Thank you,” I replied, and he grabbed my hand.
“Come on. Everybody’s in the back, and my momma been waiting on you.”
I allowed him to pull me through the breezeway, the sound of the music getting louder as we moved closer to the party.
It was live.
The parking lot was packed. Tables covered with black cloths stretched across the lot, with foil trays lined end to end, featuring everything from ribs and jerk chicken to steak, seafood pasta, and grilled lobster tails. Coolers overflowed with ice, liquor bottles, and expensive beer.
A couple of men stood over custom smokers and oversized grills, arguing loudly while one of them flipped meat with a pair of designer shades resting on top of his head. Jewelry flashed every time they moved their hands.
Luxury cars lined the curb and overflowed into the next lot like the whole section had been rented out for the night. Car keys with luxury logos dangled from fingers attached to hands covered in diamond rings and expensive tattoos.
Thick platinum and gold chains rested against white tees that probably cost more than my rent. Watches caught the light whenever someone lifted a drink or reached for the meat on the grill. Nobody looked impressed by any of it, either, and that was the part that stood out the most.
The wealth blended into them naturally.
One man sat in a lawn chair, a cigar between his fingers, while another tossed a set of keys to a younger dude and told him to move the Maybach because someone was blocked in.
The conversation continued around them, like hearing somebody mention a Maybach was no different than talking about the weather.
Something about this moment called to me.
The music. The jewelry. The women with long bundles and soft laughs sitting on niggas’ laps as if they belonged there. The men counting money and shooting dice one second, then arguing about old basketball players the next.
It felt familiar in a way that made me relax a little.
I found myself wondering if this was how my life used to look before the accident. Did I use to be around men like these? Did I belong somewhere inside a world like this?
I didn’t have long to think about it. Tink’s mom spotted him first, then her eyes found me, and she grinned.
“Well, look who decided to come outside. I’m Tiffany, by the way,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel as she made her way over.
“I’m Koko.”
“I know. Tink told me,” she said, and pulled me into a quick hug before I had the chance to move out of her way. “You been hiding.”
“No. I been minding my business,” I retorted.
“Same thing.” She waved me off. “You hungry?”
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
“Okay. Just let me know when you’re ready to eat, and I’ll get you taken care of.”
“Will do.” I nodded, taking everything in.
“Beers, water, and soda are in the cooler over there.” She pointed to the end of the table. “Hard liquor’s over there.” She turned and pointed at a table lined with bottles.
An older woman was taking drink orders and filling the cups with so much liquor that I knew the drinker would need help getting home later.
“Okay. Thank you,” I replied, though I didn’t plan on touching anything that would knock me off my square or make my head hurt.
The migraines handled the latter on their own, and I was blessed that one hadn’t attacked in a couple of days. I didn’t want to push it.
“You welcome, girl. Now try to have some fun,” Tink’s mom said before starting to walk away. After taking a couple of steps, she paused and looked back at me. “Matter fact, come on,” Tiffany added, lightly grabbing my wrist before I could protest. “Let me introduce you to my people.”
Before I could tell her no, she was pulling me through the crowd toward a group of men and women passing blunts around and cracking jokes on one another.
“Koko, this is my cousin Giani,” Tiffany said proudly as we approached a female standing near a table, pouring shots for everyone.
The moment the woman looked up at me, she froze, forgetting all about the shot she was pouring. Liquor spilled over the sides of the little red cup and splashed on the table, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Koko?” The woman whom I now knew as Giani asked, and something twisted around my lungs, stealing my breath.
I stared at her, and my mind snagged on a memory, but every time I reached for it, it slipped. I knew her—really knew her. That much, I was sure. How well? I just couldn’t figure out how. Still, the way my heart clenched told me she had once been close to me.
Tiffany looked between us, confused by the sudden shift in energy. “Y’all know each other?”
Giani still hadn’t answered. Her eyes moved over my face as if she were trying to convince herself I was real.
“Koko?” she repeated, a little louder this time.
I swallowed. “Do I know you?”
The question seemed to pull her out of whatever headspace she’d drifted into.
“What?” she asked, blinking fast.
“Do I know you?” I repeated. “You looking at me like you seen a ghost,” I giggled, though I was serious as hell.
The bottle slipped from Giani’s hand, and before I could react, she threw herself at me.
“Oh my God,” she cried, wrapping both arms around me so tightly it almost knocked me off balance. “Bitch, where the fuck have you been? I looked for you everywhere.”
Her body was shaking against mine, and when she pulled back to look at me again, tears filled her eyes.
“Do you know how worried I’ve been?” she asked before pulling me into another hug.
I stood there stiffly at first, too caught off guard to react, but the longer she held onto me, the harder it became to ignore the ache spreading through my chest. Nobody had hugged me like that since I woke up in that hospital, and nobody had looked relieved to see me alive.
Slowly, my body began to relax against hers.
“Y’all know each other for real?” Tiffany looked between us, confused as hell. “What the fuck is really going on?”
Giani wiped quickly under her eyes before grabbing my face in both hands.
“This my best friend,” she said, staring at me like she couldn’t believe I was standing there. “This my fucking best friend.”
“Wait a minute. Hold the fuck on.” Tiffany held up a hand. “If she’s your best friend, then why she over here acting like she don’t know you?”
Giani’s expression fell, and her eyes returned to mine. “She probably don’t remember me,” she answered quietly.
“I lost my memory after the accident. I don’t remember much of anything,” I admitted.
Giani stared at me for a second before her hand covered her mouth.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, and this time, the tears fell from her eyes. “That’s why you never came back.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Giani dropped her hand and shook her head slowly.
“After the accident, you were in the hospital for a little while, and then one day they told everybody you got transferred somewhere else.” Hurt crept into her voice as she spoke.
“I kept calling, trying to find out where they moved you, but they wouldn’t tell me nothing because I wasn’t a family member.
I wish I had lied and said I was your sister or something. ”
Tiffany frowned. “That’s crazy.”
“I sat with you almost every day up until you were moved,” Giani continued, still looking at me. “Did you have a duffel bag with clothes and shoes in your room when you woke up?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I had on when I left the hospital.”
Giani let out a shaky breath. “That was me,” she said softly. “I brought that up there for you because I knew your ass would’ve hated that hospital gown.”
A small laugh escaped me. “You were right. When I woke up, and my ass was out, I damn near had a heart attack,” I joked, though what I was wearing was the furthest thing from my mind when I opened my eyes. “But seriously, you really came up there every day?”