Chapter 10 #2
I shook my head with a quiet laugh and moved toward the vanity, picking up one of the perfume bottles.
“This smells so good,” I murmured.
“Mm-hmm,” Giani replied distractedly while searching through hangers in the closet. “That used to be your favorite.”
I looked down at the bottle in my hand. “For real?”
“Girl, yes,” she nodded. “You used to wear vanilla everything.”
I stared down at the bottle for a second longer before setting it back in its place. “Sounds like I had good taste then too,” I joked lightly.
“You definitely did,” Giani replied, tossing another dress onto the bed before finally settling on the black one she’d handed me first.
“Nah. Wear this,” she decided. “This is the one.”
I looked down at it again before shrugging. “Aight.”
“Bathroom’s over there,” she said, pointing toward the door beside the vanity. “And hurry up because I’m not waiting on you all night.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the dress along with the heels she’d picked out for me.
The bathroom looked just as expensive as the rest of the apartment. Marble counters. Gold fixtures. Soft lighting. Rich people definitely lived better than everybody else.
By the time I stepped back out wearing the dress, Giani looked up from fixing her lashes and froze dramatically.
“Oh, bitch,” she breathed. “There you go.”
I looked down at myself.
The dress hugged me perfectly. The heels added just enough height to make my legs look even longer, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like the confused woman hiding inside Apartment 214.
“All we gotta do now is fix that hair. Sit down, so I can get you together.”
I took a seat in her chair at the vanity, and she got right to work. Giana braided my hair down, put on something I now knew was called a bald cap, and installed a wig. Afterward, she parted the hair on the side, hot-combed the top, flat-ironed it, and sprayed on a little sheen.
I was a new woman by the time she finished styling my hair and beating my face, and I felt good.
When we arrived at the club, the parking lot was overflowing with cars.
Music thumped so hard it vibrated through the pavement as groups of women in tight dresses and heels shuffled toward the entrance, while security yelled at people crowding the front.
Giani grabbed my hand before I could even look at the line.
“Absolutely not,” she said. “We do not stand out here with the regular people.”
I laughed as she led me straight toward the front, where the bouncer immediately stepped aside.
“How you doing tonight, Ms. Giani?” the bouncer said warmly, then caught sight of me.
The smile on his face disappeared for a second. “Ms. Koko?” he blurted, and my eyebrows pulled together.
“You know me?” I asked, and the guard looked caught off guard.
“Know you?” His grin broadened. “Man, me and my people owe y’all our lives. If y’all hadn’t helped my family keep this place afloat after my older brother got killed, this club would’ve been shut down years ago. My family is forever grateful.”
The other guard walked over to us, smiling in disbelief. “Word around the city was you got hurt bad,” he said. “Ain’t nobody seen you in months.”
“I been lying low,” I answered carefully.
“That’s the best thing going,” the first guard replied. “Still good seeing you back outside though.”
Something about the sincerity in his voice caught me off guard.
“And Booda?” the second guard asked. “He still around?”
“Yeah,” I answered automatically.
The guards exchanged a quick look before nodding.
“Aight then,” the first one said, stepping aside. “Y’all be safe in there.”
Giani slid her arm through mine smoothly before leading me toward the entrance. “You see? I told you that people been asking about y’all.”
The club swallowed us whole the second we stepped through the doors. Lights flashed across packed bodies moving shoulder to shoulder beneath thick clouds of smoke while bass rattled my chest, throwing my heartbeat off rhythm.
But even inside, I still caught people looking.
A bartender paused mid-conversation when we walked past, and a man near the bar lifted his chin at me in acknowledgment before whispering something to his friend. Even the waitress who guided us upstairs toward VIP stared a second too long before smiling warmly.
“It’s good seeing you again,” she said casually, and I flashed her a tight smile.
“It’s good seeing you too,” I said, though I didn’t remember her face from a can of paint.
She laughed. “Girl, you don’t have to pretend. I know you probably don’t remember me.”
I didn’t, but I didn’t plan to admit it out loud. I’d already shown my hand once tonight. That was enough.
Giani’s section sat high enough above the crowd that I could see almost the entire club from where we were.
Plush booths wrapped around glossy black tables while girls in tight dresses laughed over hookah smoke and half-empty glasses.
The music blasted slightly lower up there, but the bass still traveled through the floor beneath my heels every time the song changed.
A few girls on the other side of the booth scrolled through their phones and took pictures, while another girl applied lip gloss using her phone's camera. As soon as we walked up, everyone stopped what they were doing, and one of the girls’ mouths dropped open.
“Bitch,” she breathed, looking directly at me. “Ain’t no fucking way.”
Giani rolled her eyes. “Can y’all please stop acting like this girl came back from the dead?”
The table went quiet for half a second.
Nobody laughed.
Something about that made my stomach feel strange.
The girl who’d spoken was staring at me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
I recognized the look. It was the same one people gave me at the diner, at the pharmacy, and at the barbecue.
Recognition mixed with something else. Something that felt like relief or maybe fear, depending on who was doing the looking.
“What?” I asked, my voice steady even though my pulse had picked up.
“Nothing,” the girl said quickly, exchanging glances with her friends. “Just good to see you out and about.”
Giani squeezed my hand before letting it go and sliding into the booth. I followed, positioning myself so I could see the entrance and most of the club floor. Old habits, even if I couldn’t remember forming them.
As soon as they were no longer paying attention to me, I leaned near Giani’s shoulder and whispered, “Why does everybody keep looking at me like that?”
“Calm down, girl. Your ass is just paranoid. People are just happy to see you. That’s all,” she replied, shaking her head at me, and I decided to take her word for it.
The waitress quickly placed menus in front of us.
“Your bottles should be out shortly,” she explained loudly over the music. “Did y’all wanna start with drinks first?”
“Lemon drops,” Giani answered immediately before looking toward me expectantly. “And bring her one too.”
“I’m good,” I replied.
Giani frowned. “Why?”
“I don’t really need to be spending money in here,” I admitted. “The little bit I got has to go toward more important shit.”
“Ew,” Giani groaned dramatically. “Girl, I’m gonna have to get you on with my job because me and broke bitches don’t get along.”
She and the girls around us laughed, but my expression hardened immediately. I didn’t see a damn thing funny, and right then, I remembered something else about myself.
I never played with bitches.
“Y’all laughing a little too hard. Let’s see how funny shit gets when I start slapping bitches in this section,” I said flatly, looking from Giani to the rest of the table.
The laughter died down quickly, and Giani threw her head back laughing harder while grabbing my arm.
“Girl, calm down. I was just playing with you.”
“Nah,” I replied, pulling my arm away. “My memory might be bad, but I do know people say how they really feel, then throw laughter on top of it so they can play it off as a joke.”
A real friend wouldn’t play with me to entertain a room full of bitches. They wouldn’t throw slick comments, then laugh afterward to make disrespect look harmless.
I’d learned that people would embarrass you in public, then expect you to swallow it so everybody else could stay comfortable. But I wasn’t that girl. I checked energy before people ever got comfortable playing with me.
And that was also something new I’d learned about myself, and I could respect it.
Giani stared at me for a second, then burst out laughing again. “There she goes,” she cackled, pointing at me. “That’s exactly how your ass used to act.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I had a reason.”
“Or maybe your ass was just mean as hell,” one of the girls muttered under her breath.
My eyes slid toward her instantly. “Maybe you should keep it cute if you wanna leave this club with your teeth still in your mouth,” I replied calmly.
The entire table went quiet again.
Then Giani nearly folded over laughing.
“Okay, okay,” she said, wiping beneath her eye dramatically. “I’m done. Damn. Everybody stop playing with Koko before she starts beating you hoes up in VIP.”
Despite myself, I laughed too.
And weirdly enough, it felt natural.
Like this side of me had been sitting dormant somewhere beneath all the confusion, just waiting for somebody to wake it up.
“But seriously. I’m sorry if I offended you. You’re my bestie, and I’ll forever have your back, how you used to have mine.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Cool. Just remember to watch your mouth.”
“I told you I was playing,” she replied, grinning before leaning closer. “Now enjoy yourself. You deserve to have some fun for once.”
I shook my head, but a laugh still slipped out of me.
As the night went on, the attention never really stopped. Men kept glancing toward our section. A bottle appeared at the table from somebody across the club. Even the DJ shouted Giani out for her promotion before adding, “And welcome back to Koko too.”
The crowd reacted immediately, turning toward our section. I froze, but Giani laughed and raised her drink high like none of it bothered her.
And for the first time all night, I started realizing something that made my chest tighten. I might not remember this city…but apparently the city remembered me.