“Can we get a pic?” she asked, holding her phone out.
“Yeah,” he responded standing up and taking her phone. He snapped a few group pictures with her phone before handing it back and gently dismissing her. “Y’all be safe.”
When they were out of his face, he scanned the crowd for Emani. Her black and pink t-shirt seemed to clash with all the others but it was the blonde hair she wore that he couldn’t spot out anymore.
“Dammit girl,” he grumbled, walking away from the party to find what direction she walked to. It was a failed mission until Carson’s phone rang in his hand and he spotted her number. Answering, it seemed his voice froze her. “You good?”
“I-I need Carson.”
9 /EMANI
Throughout her entirestroll she felt like herself again. Almost at least. There were two places where Emani felt like she was Emani from 49thand Husten – here with her crew and on the stage. Anything outside of the world she’d so masterfully created for herself felt like she was in a box. Like the box of Malik Kilpatrick. Shiny, yes. Glamorous, yes. A sought after position by so many women praying and scheming for a baller, yes. Suffocating, unrelenting in its control and forcing her to choose how much of her she was willing to cut off to keep the box, yes.
There was a pride she held in being who she was and overcoming all she had. The black and pink letters she wore across her chest meant something. Not what she had to do to get the letters, no, what she had to do to prove to herself that she was more than the labels put on her. Azul Heart, abandoned, abused, mislabeled. Being able to finesse her way into OSU, tap into her creativity, love as hard as she did and graduate meant that everything she left behind couldn’t hold her in a box. And if she couldn’t fit in that one, she damn sure wasn’t made to fit in Malik’s.
“Oh girl I forgot you had moves like that,” Kimmy, Emani’s back gushed as they joined in a circle.
Lena, the designated sorority bartender handed, out their pink punch and giggled. “I didn’t. All that ass she be throwing and shaking on my TV. I’m happily reminded. So tell us, what’s the tea, how is it being you?”
“Being me is crazy,” Emani laughed through her statement. “I want to hear about y’all. The kids, the businesses, the men.”
Lena scoffed. “Two bad ass kids and a pending divorce. This week with y’all is my escape. Living through your glamorous life is going to give me some confidence.”
Lena had always had the bright dream to be married with a husband who provided everything for her while she stayed at home, soak up his wealth and raised his children. College was just the grounds to meet said husband. The man she was divorcing, Daniel Jones. Emerald City Eagles quarterback and serial cheater. How she assumed the man would be faithful when he cheated all throughout college was beyond Emani. It wasn’t until Daniel was caught up in a very public scandal that Lena finally said enough was enough.
“You always had the confidence, you just need to tap back into you,” Emani spoke ignoring the constantly annoying buzzing of her phone in the designer fanny pack she wore. “You get to start over fresh, turn that shit. Make him feel that shit.”
Lena grinned. “I just might do that.”
Kimmi took this moment to speak up. “I want to know how it is being engaged to Malik Kilpatrick. You always kept you a fine baller. Jahlil, Tyriq, and Malik. You got the Mount Rushmore of fine niggas. Tell us your secret.”
Emani laughed it off. Jahlil was a sore spot she couldn’t fully allow to heal because for seven years she hadn’t forgotten and the thoughts of him picked at the scab. Tyriq, she wished him well in hell where he could burn forever for what he’d done to her and so many other women. Malik…Malik was the reward for disparity in her weakness. If she didn’t figure her shit out now, she’d end up hating the sound of his name and she would be responsible for it.
Emani shrugged. “There’s no secret, really. Men like real energy. Just be you. But be careful, some men like the idea of you but not really you.”
A sobering statement. One that made it extremely difficult to ignore the back-to-back calls. “I can promise this is himmm.”
“Oh girl, go talk to your mannn,” Kimmi hummed.
Lena added. “He’s calling to make sure her fine ass is still his. I know that’s right, E, make that nigga bark.”
Emani played her role, smiled and laughed at that statement before wandering off to answer it. “Yes, Malik.”
“You answer now? I’ve been calling you for thirty minutes. Where the fuck are you?”
“Who are you talking to?” she snipped before catching herself and realizing there were a host of cameras. Instead of arguing, she hung up and tried to reset. A moment that was short lived because Jahlil was closing in on her. The mix of his presence engulfing her like it always did and the residual frustration from her fiancée; she wasn’t in the mood to handle both. And she wasn’t going to ruin anyone’s fun because of her soured state.
The timbre of his voice quaked parts of her that she let go untouched for years. Just like at her botched engagement party, the rumble of his baritone began to pick at the loosely sowed seams of who she was now.
“How long are you going to act like you don’t know me?” he asked, handing her water as if it were a peace offering.
Emani being quick-witted, looked up at him wanting to let it all out but this wasn’t the forum for her to cuss him out, let another reply come out of her mouth. One she hoped to zap this and allow her an escape. “As long as it takes me to forget.”
She watched the fuse of his thick brows and those obsidian eyes squint. The thick lashes he had making them almost disappear underneath the brim of his hat and the dim lighting. Damn he was fine. Finer than he was seven years ago. He was a boy coming into his manhood then. Now, he was all man. Emani had to get away from him. How dare her pussy throb at a time like this. Her fault again.
“Forget?” he questioned. “I haven’t forgotten about you, E.”
“Yeah, I know because I can’t stop forgetting to forget you,” she thought. Her phone was ringing again reminding her, she had, foolishly, committed herself to another. Abandoning her thoughts, she said, “You’re married right?”
