“Girl, tell me about it. Loans were taken out! I almost had to quit theatre to start working to maintain the house. But luckily, their investment paid off. He got a contract with a team and paid them back. Even bought them a house. No wonder he acts like he’s better than me.”
I shrug. “That arrogance didn’t just come out of nowhere. Your parents raised and nurtured it. He’s spoiled!”
Zaza lets out a little laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
I lean in. “But you gotta stand up for yourself, Zee. What did I tell you? Your parents control you like that because you let them. You aren’t a child. You’re an adult.”
She blows out hard, cheeks puffing. “I know, I know.”
“Seriously. When your mum tried to get on my case about my tattoos, what did I do? I told her respectfully, it’s not her place. Love your mum to death, but she can’t tell me what to do.”
Zaza gives me a flat look. “Yeah, but you ain’t her kid, are ya? My mum would slap the taste out my mouth.”
“Just say it respectfully.”
She snorts. “Ha. You don’t know anything about African parents.”
“Oi. I got a Jamaican mother, innit? They’re just as intense.”
“I know, I know. I just—” She starts. “I don’t wanna disappoint her. But she’s so hard to please.” ??
“There is no point in being a people pleaser. People are impossible to please.”
Before she can argue, the waiter swings by to pour our waters and take our usual order we’d jokingly christened the ‘Free for Frankie’because Benny never charged us for it.
Old flames have perks, I guess.
Once he’s gone, Zaza leans forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But Frankie, listen. When Bari called me to talk in the hallway, he asked about you.”
Hm. I figured that was the case but still, I was curious. “Why?”
She shrugs in response. “I don’t know.”
My face draws up. “Well, did he say anything about me?”
Zaza hesitates. “He said you look different.”
I scoff then snort under my breath. “Yeah, no shit. I ain’t a kid anymore.”
She fiddles with her straw, frowning. “He tried to pass it off as curiosity, but I think it’s more than that.”
“More how?”
“He’s… he’s weird about you.”
I arch a brow. “Weird?”
“Yeah, weird. Like, he kept staring all through dinner. Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t notice.”
“I noticed.” I take another sip, biting back a grin. “I just assumed he was pissed I was acting like I didn’t know him.”
“I mean, that’s part of it. But it’s more too, I can tell.”
I cock an eyebrow. “You’re making no sense.”
She sighs. “Look. All I can say is—he’s not as confident as he pretends to be. Any idiot can see he’s using that as a front for whatever reason.”
“True.”
