Chapter 13 #2
The roads were slick, so it took us a little longer than usual to get to our next destination, but neither of us seemed to notice.
The conversation flowed easily between us, and every few minutes, Booda said something else that made me laugh.
Not fake laughs either. Real ones that caught me off guard and made my stomach hurt a little afterward.
At one point, he started roasting the furniture salesman for trying too hard to sound rich.
“Did you hear that nigga say imported Italian leather six different times?” he asked, shaking his head. “We get it. The cow had a passport.”
I laughed so hard I almost missed the exit.
“And then he gon’ tell us the couch was handcrafted.”
“Maybe it was,” I argued.
“Nah. Ain’t no nigga named Handcraft make that couch.”
I rolled my eyes while he sat there grinning beside me, looking way too proud of himself for such a stupid joke.
The longer we talked, the easier it became to forget about my troubles. Things between us were easy. This was how we’d been together when life wasn’t actively trying to destroy us.
By the time we pulled into the parking garage, the city looked washed clean, like the storm had scrubbed everything down except me.
Booda looked over as I cut the engine. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
“You lying.”
“I said I’m good.”
He studied me for another second before finally nodding toward the mall entrance. “Aight then. Come spend our money.”
I snorted before climbing out.
The mall was packed because, apparently, the weather made people want to spend money they probably didn’t have. Music echoed throughout the building while groups of people moved from store to store carrying bags and cups of overpriced coffee.
Booda stayed close beside me as we walked, one hand brushing the small of my back every now and then while people moved around us.
“You wanna hit shoes first or clothes?” he asked.
“Clothes.”
“That’s my girl.”
The first store almost overwhelmed me when we walked inside. Mannequins were dressed head to toe in shit that cost way more than I planned on spending, and the scent of perfume floated through the air beneath bright lights reflecting off polished floors.
For a second, I just stood there taking it all in.
It wasn’t like I’d never seen stores like this before, because I had. The strange part was realizing how familiar everything felt. Memories of shopping here with Booda kept surfacing little by little, and although none of it felt completely new, it still felt distant somehow.
“You finna stand there all day or shop?” Booda asked, grabbing hold of my hand to lead me further inside the store.
“Of course.” I grinned. “Don’t rush me.”
I started flipping through hangers, grabbing pieces here and there, and ten minutes later, my arms were already full.
“Try this on,” Booda said, pointing at a black dress on the rack beside me.
“That looks too tight.”
“That’s the point.”
“You just wanna see ass.”
“I always wanna yo’ see ass.” His gaze dropped, and he slowly dragged his tongue along his bottom lip before catching it between his teeth.
I shook my head, fighting a smile while snatching the dress off the rack.
By the time I came out of the fitting room, Booda was leaning against the wall waiting for me. The second his eyes landed on the dress, his entire expression changed.
“Yeah,” he said immediately. “Get that.”
I looked at myself in the mirror, turning from one side to the other to get a good look at myself. The dress hugged every curve I had. It was smooth and simple, but expensive enough to look dangerous.
“You staring at yourself hard as hell,” Booda teased.
“Shut up.”
“You miss being fine.”
“I always been fine.”
“Trust me, I know,” he agreed, watching me as I smoothed my hands down the sides of the dress before turning slightly.
“You don’t think this too much?”
“Nah.” His eyes dragged over me slowly. “I think every nigga see you in that gon’ be mad you with me.”
A group of girls passed behind us then, giggling loud enough to pull my attention. One of them looked over in our direction before leaning toward her friend and whispering something.
My expression hardened instantly, and when the girl noticed me looking, she quickly turned away.
“Bitch,” I growled, and Booda laughed under his breath.
“You about to start?”
“I don’t like people looking at what’s mine.”
“That’s cause you crazy.”
“And?”
“And I like it.”
I rolled my eyes again before disappearing back into the fitting room to change.
When I stepped back out, my phone buzzed again. It was another call from Giani. I didn’t really want to talk to her right now, so I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then said fuck it, and answered.
“What?” I spat, giving her a lot of attitude.
“Koko, please stop acting like that.”
I grabbed my clothes and started walking toward the register while Booda followed beside me. “Acting like what?”
“You know I ain’t mean nothing by calling you broke. I was joking, but it was in poor taste. I get it, and I’m sorry. I would never try to clown you.”
“Mhm.”
“Koko.”
“What?”
“You still mad?”
I glanced over as a woman damn near walked into a display while looking in our direction.
“Watch where the fuck you going,” I snapped.
The woman jumped slightly before hurrying off.
Giani went quiet on the phone.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” I adjusted the bags on my arm. “People just don’t know how to mind their business.”
Booda grinned beside me as if the attention amused him.
“You still coming around later?” Giani asked carefully.
“I don’t know.”
“Koko, I apologized.”
“And I heard you.”
“But you still upset.”
I stopped at the register and placed my clothes on the counter.
“People apologize all the time, but that still doesn’t mean whatever they said wasn’t exactly how they feel about you,” I said calmly.
“Friend, I’m sorry. How many times do you want me to apologize?”
I scoffed. “Honestly, you could’ve saved all your apologies.”
Giani went quiet for a second too long, and I already knew she was trying to figure out whether I was really done with her or just angry. Probably both.
“Koko—”
“Nah,” I cut in, pulling my card from my wallet before sliding it toward the cashier. “You embarrassed me in front of a bunch of bitches, then tried to laugh it off like the shit you said wasn’t disrespectful.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“But it happened.”
The cashier glanced between me and the phone pressed against my ear before quickly focusing back on ringing up my clothes.
“I said I was sorry.”
“And I said I heard you.”
My total popped up on the screen, and even though I knew I had the money now, seeing that number still made my stomach drop.
Booda noticed immediately. “Quit looking at prices. Just buy that shit. We gon’ get some money if we don’t do nothing else,” he whispered.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, but don’t complain when I get used to this.”
Booda shrugged as he leaned against the counter, arms folded. “I never did.”
The cashier flashed me a nervous smile, her hand shaking as she handed me the receipt. “Thank you for coming. Enjoy your day.”
I grabbed my receipt before picking up my bags from the counter. “Thank you. You too,” I replied and looked over my shoulder at Booda. “Come on.”
“Koko.” Giani’s voice softened slightly through the phone. “You still here?”
“Yeah, but I’ma have to call you back later.”
“Aight. Call me if you decide to come by later. I really wanna spend more time with you.”
“I will,” I said, and ended the call, my grip tightening around my shopping bags as pieces of the night before drifted back through my head.
My phone immediately started vibrating again in my hand. Giani was calling back, but I ignored it. Whatever she had to say should’ve been said before I hung up. There was nothing more to talk about.
Booda looked over at me. “You think she lying about that shit being a joke?”
“I don’t know.”
That was the truth, because another part of me kept wondering whether I was being too hard on her. Maybe I was overthinking everything because my memory was still scrambled. The problem was that I’d learned a long time ago that my instincts usually knew something before my mind caught up.
And for some reason, I couldn’t let that shit go.