10. Juliet
Juliet
The annual vendor and food truck festival was one of Havenbrook's most beloved events.
Every business thrived on this day — whether you were selling tacos or urban romance novels, it was a guaranteed sellout.
Music filled every corner, and the smell of sugar and fried food would replace even the most expensive cologne in the fibers of your clothing.
There wasn't a blank wall in sight that hadn't been turned into a grass backdrop for someone's next viral moment — and as always, the weather was warm, sunny and completely cloudless.
I wasn't mad at any of it. And neither was my fitted heather grey maxi dress.
Breast stacked like two ripe melons and that ass — what little I had of it — was holding its own.
The combination of the environment, the outfit and a full day of freedom from class and the sisters of ARS had your girl on cloud nine.
Yahya, Mega and I hopped out of the Jeep, feet hitting the ground in sync.
"Girl, can those bamboo earrings get any bigger?" Yahya teased, gently flicking one.
"The bigger the hoop, the badder the bitch," I signed.
We laughed as I positioned myself between my two best friends, one arm looped through each of theirs, and headed toward the festivities.
"This is cute or whatever, but I definitely could have coordinated this better," Yahya said through a stink face. "Here, Ju — decipher this for me."
She handed me a festival map and I read off some tables worth checking out. "It's a food truck festival," I said. "What exactly were you expecting — gold dipped chicken wings?"
"Ooh, write that down. I'm adding that to the list of specialty offerings for my clients."
Mega sucked his teeth. "You know you're playing tug of war. Classy side versus tacky side. And tacky has the strongest pull."
"Great — I'll finally get the chance to meet your mama," she shot back.
"Oh, you want to talk about mamas?" he started.
"Aye — Dee Dee and Dexter, don't start," I signed, barely able to keep a straight face.
"It's him, he always— ooh, lobster rolls!" Yahya announced, her entire energy pivoting on the spot.
One minute my girl was on a full rampage. The next, something else had her complete and undivided attention.
"Come on, you short evil genius," she said, grabbing Mega by the arm and dragging him toward the food truck.
See. Love.
We stopped at The Daily Tails food truck and the line was ridiculously long.
Don't get me wrong — Manny could throw down on a chopped lobster tail, homemade garlic butter sauce, piled high on a fresh bread roll.
But cheesesteaks sounded just as good and that line was considerably shorter.
Besides, Manny parked on campus at least three times a month — we could grab a roll then. I was about to say exactly that.
But turning toward my friends I caught Mega reading the menu to Yahya.
Not because she couldn't read — but when she got overly excited, letters had a way of jumping around on her.
She made a face at something he suggested and he laughed.
A few people moving through the crowd without paying attention came charging in their direction and Mega pulled Yahya into him without a second thought, hitting the group with a death stare.
I could make out one of them saying "My fault, Mega.
" He gave the guy a slight chin lift — it's cool, but watch yourself.
I know that's right, friend.
Not wanting to interrupt the love session by squeezing in beside them, I turned toward the menu posted on the truck and stood on my toes to get a better look.
I genuinely did not know who I inherited my height from.
My daddy is a giant. My mama is a sexy stallion in her own right. And here I am, barely touching 5'4.
Struggling, I stretched as high as I could as more heads crowded the menu in front of me.
"If you have to do all that just to read a menu, maybe you should stick to Happy Meals, small fry," a deep and annoyingly familiar voice said behind me.
Above my aggravation, a pleasurable mixture of tobacco and vanilla hit my nose and offered an unwelcome amount of comfort. I took a breath and turned around sharply.
Michael Jordan graphic tee fitted just right, denim knee-length shorts adorned with the smallest rhinestones, and deliberately worn down Vans, completing the rockstar aesthetic.
I had to glance up — way up — at the 6'1 cinnamon brown masterpiece now standing in front of me.
The sun caught the gold detail in his dark shades like he was generating his own light source.
This man was too handsome for the level of patience I had for his ass.
I hated how effortlessly unbothered he always looked.
Like nothing in this world could rattle him.
Even his silence carried an obnoxious amount of confidence.
He glanced at the menu, then back down at me — having to bend considerably further than he probably expected just to get level with my face.
"Or are you one of those people who turns a three item menu into a whole ordeal?"
Cool air and the faint scent of mint carried from his mouth to mine and I couldn't help but notice the open gold grill he was wearing. Bottoms only. There was something about a man in bottom grills only that was just plain unfair.
Get your shit together, girl.
"And here I thought my thong would be the only pain in my ass today," I said, folding my arms.
"Ha." He chuckled. "Very funny, bratty ass. Next time sign while you're talking to me — let me know you mean that shit."
Before I could respond, Psalm's crew rolled up beside him. Christian was the only one I knew — he volunteered at the community center where I taught ASL lessons. Giving me a once-over he asked, "Ayo P, I thought you said this line was too long to mess with. What changed your mind?"
"Yeah, and why'd you just walk off without saying anything?" another added.
"What does it matter?" Psalm replied, a little too quickly.
"Maybe not what — but who," Christian replied with a smirk.
The unwanted interaction ate up more time than expected and before I knew it Manny was calling out to me.
"Aye, Ju-Ju — you want your usual?" Manny asked with a wide smile.
"Yes," I signed.
"Mr. Mitchel — already had yours going the second I spotted you in line," Manny said, handing him a fully stuffed brown paper bag.
"Manny, my guy. I appreciate you," Psalm responded, bumping forearms with him.
This man really believed he was the greatest thing walking. Scoffing, I turned toward the truck to watch Manny put my roll together, making very deliberate eye contact with everything except Psalm Mitchel.
"If I'm subjected to the same treatment that thong is getting," he said low in my ear, "count me in" — and walked away.
We were lucky enough to find an empty table in the shade where the breeze was hitting just right. The only problem with the location was that Psalm and his boys had claimed the table right next to ours.
"You excited about that new Orbi drop, Ju-Money?" Mega asked.
If there was anything that could make me smile besides my family and food, it was an Orbi set.
Orbi was Lego for scientists. You physically built atoms and molecules with the pieces, but there was no guide — you had to rely entirely on your own knowledge and form your own hypothesis as you went.
One wrong calculation and the whole model collapsed.
Get everything right and you earned yourself a display piece and full bragging rights.
"Hell yes — this is the most anticipated set of the season," I said, unable to contain myself. I caught Psalm glancing over with his invasive ass.
"My little nerd," Yahya shook her head. "Out of every new release dropping right now, you're most excited about scientific Jenga."
I laughed. "Jenga is for a drunken evening. Orbi is for the intellectual elite," I signed, giving her a flirty wink.
"So you getting the set?" Mega asked, mouth full of bread and lobster.
My excitement deflated instantly. I plopped up and down on the bench with a full pout.
I was never going to beat these bratty allegations.
"No," I signed, bottom lip out.
"What — why?" they asked in unison.
"ARS," I signed.
Alpha Rose Society required its pledges to give up their favorite hobbies for the following week.
And they could not have picked a worse time.
The limited-edition quantum architecture release was dropping in three days and was guaranteed to sell out.
Unlike Lego, there was no backorder. One and done.
"Damn, Ju. I know you wanted that set bad," Mega frowned, genuine sorrow written across his face.
Yahya waved her hand. "I'll just go get it and hold it until your little fast is over."
"You can't," I signed.
"Why not?"
"Because you have to be a registered member with a qualifying tier ranking to purchase it. Every buy gets tracked back to your membership profile," I whined.
"Damn, that nerdy shit is that strict?" Mega asked.
"Small sacrifices for big rewards," I shrugged — sounding far less convincing than I intended.
We ate and talked a little longer, the festival humming around us. Then the crowd began shifting — a large wave of people all moving in the same direction at once.
"Oh hell — Heaven is about to perform," Mega announced, scrambling to clean up his mess.
Sure enough, people were flooding toward the main stage. It was a community performance — no assigned seating, first come first served.
"Absolutely not. I am not standing in all of that," Yahya announced. "I love me some Heaven, but I will watch the TikTok streams before I risk getting trampled."
"Let's park on the hill behind the lot," Mega suggested. "Best view, sound carries clean up there — and we can spark up this new strain called Aladdin."
"Aladdin?" I questioned.
"Yup. One hit of this and you'll be in a whole new world."
"Boy," Yahya sucked her teeth.