My question falls on deaf ears from all of the cackling. “I’m switching teams.” I grab my bag and stand in a huff.
“Bro, chill.” Kendrick blows out a long breath through chipmunk cheeks. He swipes a braid out of his face. “We all know you ain’t moving now that Miriam’s here.”
Shins’s brows drop. “Who is Miriam?”
“Is that why you ditched the party, being all antisocial?” Quincy presses a fist to his mouth at Kendrick’s nod and squeals. “I knew it!” His cocoa complexion reddens as he punches the air like he won the lottery. He’s the clown on the team, who looks like Marlon Wayans’s love child.
“Someone want to clue me in?” Shins asks.
Kendrick waves him off. “I told you not to let Rachel talk you into moving to Clarence. Now you’re stuck out there with cozy racism and farmers’ markets. Cap’s girl moved to Buffalo.”
“She’s not my girl,” I sigh.
Shins’s eyes light up with the possibility of apple-picking double dates. “You’re finally settling down,” he grins. “You should bring her over for dinner. We’d love to have you.”
“So Rachel can torture him with seasonless chicken?” Quincy’s face twists at the memory. “Save your stomach, Cap.”
“Y’all need to stop talking about my girl. She’s trying,” Shins snaps.
“To kill us,” Quincy adds, causing everyone but Shins to snicker. “Should’ve left her in college, butno. You don’t find it funny she picked a house in the middle of nowhere that looks like the one fromGet Out?” He whistles.
“Shut up before I fling your little ass!” Shins shouts. Quincy is five seven to Shins’s six three and remains unbothered. Shins, on the other hand, is ready to pop a blood vessel.
The team knows Shins’s relationship with Rachel is a sore spot. He comes from money and has dated the daughter of his parents’ best friends since high school. It’s an arrangement he doesn’t seem to mind. Couldn’t be me.
“Chill, Quincy.” I tap him and the smug grin he’s wearing to fall back. Shins might come from the suburbs, but he will lay Quincy’s ass out if agitated. “I’m not bringing my girl over to dinner because I don’t have one.”
That, and I don’t want that bland-ass chicken. When we say we let our ancestors guide our cooking, that doesn’t apply to everybody.
Kendrick eyes me with suspicion. “Miriam hasn’t been here a week, and she already has your nose wide open.”
“Bullshit,” I toss. Now he’s telling stories.
“Really? Explain why you stayed in your unit the entire night.” Quincy smirks. “Lala came by looking for you. Says you never answered your door.”
They wait for an explanation.
I shrug. “I was tired.”
“Bullshit!” They yell.
“Why y’all so obsessed with this? I wasn’t interested, okay?”
The excessive parties at Steel House was me years ago. I did all of that ten times over, and I only entertain them now as something to pass the time. I’m not a prude like Shins, who only comes out when his girl allows it. I want something else, something other than a splitting headache the next morning and a woman whose name I forgot. I call up Jalisa or Lala if I need to get off, but I didn’t want the company on Monday.
Wonder why.
“Miriam moving to Buffalo has nothing to do with it. I skipped one party—one—and people want to act like I’m committing to a life with a white picket fence and babies,” I say. I’ll commit myself to an asylum before that happens.
I’ll admit that having her here comes with a certain level of excitement. I look forward to learning more about her, just like I’ve been counting down the days until I see her on Friday.
We’ve barely texted since running into each other at the MLK event two days ago. I didn’t want to bombard her. I’m giving her the space to sort out her life, which is packed in boxes, and answer the million-dollar career question that’s been following her since college. Outside of a text to check in and confirm we’re still good for Friday, all communication is silent.
It’s hard not speaking to Miriam, but I’m not confessing a damn thing to my nosy teammates, who are still staring at me.
Since they want to be in my business…
“Remember when you told me to stay away from your sister?” I remind Shins.
