“Where are you? I’ve been banging on your damn door like a crazy person.”
“You’re at my apartment?” I panicked. “Mama, what are you doing here?”
My mother didn’t live in Bigg City, which I was extremely thankful for. As much as I loved her, she was a meddler and her presence never failed to stress me out.
“What do you mean? You’re my child. I booked a flight the moment Nyx called me asking if I’d heard from you.”
I could feel every part of my body tense up. I knew my best friend loved me dearly, but this was the one time I would’ve been okay with her loving me a little less.
When it came to my personal life, I kept my mother out of it, which is why she didn’t even know about my situation with Mecca. I was going through enough. I didn’t need her two cents. She hated the life I lived in Bigg City, and she hated the fact that I was a dancer. If it were up to her, I would’ve gone to college, found a good job, and settled down like my little sister, Leera.
But when it came to what was classified as a good job, our definitions weren’t the same. Granted, my sister was a nurse, and she’d done pretty well for herself in that department. But I was never cut out to work a regular job. Since I was able to walk, I’d been dancing in front of a mirror, and until two years ago, Leera had been one of my biggest supporters.
“Skye, why haven’t you answered my question? Where are you?”
“Um...I’m at Nyx’s,” I lied, hoping she hadn’t told my mother otherwise.
“Really? I wonder why she didn’t tell me that when I talked to her this morning.”
Trying to play it cool, I shrugged to myself. “It probably just slipped her mind.”
“Hmm...well, I’m headed that way.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. When else?”
Shit.
“Um, okay, but I’m not there right now. I ran to the store. I’ll be there in a few minutes though.”
“Good. I need to see you for myself and make sure you’re okay.”
Of course, she did.
“Okay, Mama.”
“Mmhmm. See you in a bit.”
Before I could say another word, the line went dead.
I hurried to call Nyx.
She answered on the first ring, but she sounded terrible.
“Hey, you good?” I asked.
“No, I’m not. I think I might have food poisoning or some shit.”
“Food poisoning?”
“Yes. I just started throwing up out of nowhere, and now I’m stuck on the couch.”
I paused for a second, then tilted my head to the side. “How long have you been feeling that way?”
“Not long. It just started today.”
My mind drifted back to our conversation earlier, and the brief moment when I felt like something might have been wrong with her.
