She tried to hurry and change the subject, picking at her nails like she wasn’t laughing a second ago.
“So you’re really going through with this vision board thing?”
“Syn, I’ve already committed,” I said, swiping glitter from my arm. “My flight’s booked. My clothes are laid out. My wax appointment is confirmed. I'm open and ready to make bad decisions responsibly.”
I turned the vision board around so she could see it. It sparkled under my bedroom light like a masterpiece of chaos. It was full of glitter, sticky notes, and magazine cutouts.
“Behold,” I said, holding it up like it was the Ten Commandments. “HEAUX PHASE 2026: A Journey of Joy, Juice, and Jail Time.”
Syn covered her mouth, laughing.
“Not jail time!”
“You never know! I’m manifesting excitement in all forms,” I said, grinning. “The podcast gave a whole list of things to add if you wanted the full NOLA and Heaux experience, so of course I picked a few. Nothing too crazy… just enough to make Jesus blink twice.”
I pointed to my bright neon sticky notes, letting her read a few.
“Get a tarot reading about my sex life with a random man.”
“Have sex with jazz echoing through an open window.”
“Do a body shot off a stranger on Bourbon Street.”
Syn tilted her head, eyebrow raised.
“You really finna do all that?”
“Maybe not all,” I said, plucking a piece of glitter from my hair. “But at least a few. My goal is to come back glowing, hoarse, and at peace.”
“You gone come back pregnant.”
“Please,” I said, folding a silk top. “I can’t even keep a plant alive. I’m just going for the plot.”
She giggled. “You and these plots.”
I tossed another outfit into my suitcase. One was a scandalous red two-piece I hadn’t worn since pre-therapy. Every outfit had a purpose: brunch, bad decisions, and pretending I had my life together.
My speaker was playing Jazmine Sullivan’sHeaux Taleson repeat. The perfect soundtrack to a woman ready to risk it all.
Syn was still on FaceTime, chewing on her lip like she wanted to say something but didn’t want me to roast her again.
“So you’re really going to New Orleans alone?”
“Yep.”
“You’re brave.”
“No, I’m bored. There’s a difference.”
I zipped my suitcase shut and leaned against it, catching my breath like I’d just finished a workout.
“I’m not waiting for a man this year. Not for flowers, not for plans, not for validation. If love finds me in New Orleans, great. If not, I’ll at least have beads, orgasms, and a lot of stories that can’t be told in church.”
Syn sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes so hard.
“Fine. If Dee cancels on me, I’m booking a bus ticket.”
“Perfect. I’ll be there a week,” I said, smirking. “That gives him just enough time to mess up before the Megabus leaves.”
