“Stassi—”
“I’m the help, Day. Boss niggas don’t explain shit to the help. We’re good. Ain’t nothing else to say,” Stassi responded. She was too prideful to give in even though she desperately needed to know why.
“They caught me off guard, Stassi. I’m a rapper whose brand is built off being an available man,” he said.
“You are available. You’re wide fucking open because I’m not taking up no more of your time. You don’t ever have to worry about that,” she said.
She hated that her voice was shaking, but she couldn’t mask her hurt feelings. Foolishly, she had caught feelings. She wouldn’t say it was full-blown love, but their chemistry and vibe had been on point. The way he had holed up with her in that hotel room had felt like the beginning of something. She realized she had done what so many women before her had done — assumed something he had never said.
“I didn’t expect to have my love life under a microscope. I misspoke. I knew it came out fucked up as soon as I said it,” Day said.
“You called me the help.” She scoffed. “I knew if I took that money that you would see me that way. I knew it. I knew that I would see myself that way.”
“You didn’t take the money. You sent it back. That’s what made this different for me,” Day said, voice elevating before catching himself and glancing down the hall. The door behind him opened, and her neighbor peeked out.
“Sorry for the noise. My guest was just leaving,” Stassi said, holding firm. “He has no more business here. That’s what it was. A business deal. Now it’s over.”
Her eyes burned, but she held her resolve. Niggas was always doing fucked up shit and calling it a mistake when really they were making choices. Men like Day made choices every day that made women feel small, feel like objects, feel stupid because they were selfish, and they didn’t think about the consequences, nor did they fear them because rarely did women enforce boundaries.
“I can see you’re emotional. I ain’t tryna hurt your feelings, Stassi. It was business, but that vibe I caught, it was…” He paused as he searched for the right thing to say. “I don’t know exactly what it is. We ain’t had time to figure that part out, but I ain’t really tryna have it end here like this either. Are you?”
“Can’t end something that never starts.” Stassi brushed away a tear. “Remember all those good feelings that you said we would have? Remember how I told you I didn’t want to feel anything at all? This is why. I knew we would end up here.”
“We don’t got to end up here, Stassi. We can take it way up from here. I’m with whatever you want,” Day’s tone was low, laced in defeat and exasperation. He had never tried this hard to keep any woman before. His conquests typically took no effort at all. He almost couldn’t believe he was here offering these explanations and requesting these second chances when there were dozens of women waiting for their turn. His interests had changed, and he hadn’t realized that until his heart dropped when she opened the door, and he noticed her red eyes.
“I want you to leave.” She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she closed the door.
She had forgotten that Charlie was even in the room until she turned around.
“You like him, don’t you?” Charlie asked.
“Fuck him,” Stassi said it to save face, to hold onto a little dignity, but she felt a way. She couldn’t identify if it was pain of embarrassment or something deeper, but she knew the emotion was strong enough to pull back altogether.
“So we’re toasting to becoming trending topics on social media or nah?” Charlie joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Might as well, shit. Got to laugh to keep from crying behind these niggas,” Stassi said, traipsing back over to the kitchen in defeat.
“So, you gonna tell me when you and Day became you and Day?” Charlie asked. She held out a red Solo cup. “Lemon drop martini for you, ma’am. Water for me,” Charlie was the only one who understood what she needed right now. Libations to combat the lies. That was always the cure to fuck boy bullshit.
Stassi sighed, accepted the cup, and sipped. Her eyes bucked as it burned on the way down. She coughed and grimaced. “Bitch, this is all vodka.”
Charlie shrugged, amusement making her eyes sparkle as she answered. “Bitch, you ain’t got no lemons, no sugar, not even no lemonade in this damn apartment. Quit complaining with your bare-ass kitchen. Nigga paid for that pussy, and you ain’t even buy no groceries.”
Stassi and Charlie fell into laughter, and Charlie grabbed the bottle for Stassi before leading her to the living room. She pulled out her phone. “Twenty wings, half garlic parm, half lemon pepper?” Charlie asked.
“Sounds about right. A bitch pride is bruised, add some fries too,” Stassi said.
It was their routine. Their sister time, girl talk, and it had saved them so many times before.
“You gon’ put the movie on?” Charlie asked.
Set It Offwas the entertainment of choice. They had seen it more times than they could count, and it didn’t require thatthey pay attention, which was a good thing because they would undoubtedly do more talking than watching.
“Yup,” Stassi said. “Order all the junk food with it too. I’m about to eat until I can’t feel this shit no more.”
Charlie ordered up a boatload of junk food, and Stassi grabbed throw blankets from the closet.
“So, when did Day become a thing?”
