But then again, they’re my parents.
Mum barrels into me first, wrapping her arms around me like I’m still fifteen. She smells like the same lavender lotion she’s worn forever, and that makes me smile.
My arms wrap around her tightly. Immediately, the irritation is completely gone because, like always, my mother calms it all.
Dad claps me on the shoulder hard enough to jolt me forward, and that’s about as much emotion I’m gonna get outta him.
I appreciate that.
“You took your time,” he says, voice gruff but warm.
“Blame the agent,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Apparently, I ain’t worth a jet anymore.”
Mum pulls back, eyebrows knitting. “You flew back regular?”
Regular.
I grimace. “Don’t remind me.”
Dad snorts, already steering us toward the exit. “Good for you. A little humility never killed anyone.”
“Yeah, but it’s trying,” I grumbled.
On the walk through the sliding glass doors, with the damp, nostalgic air outside of Heathrow hitting my face, I can feel the shift in power dynamics.
Though I’m not the fifteen-year-old my parents shipped off anymore, one thing became apparent. At home, with them, I’m notJabari McKingsleyorTitan.
I’m their kid.
Which is fine—except I don’t particularly enjoy being reminded I’m still expected to obey all the commands of my parents, especially since I don’t have the best record of obeying them to begin with.
At least they can’t ship my arse back to Nigeria this time.
But whatever. For now, I let them guide me toward their car like armored security.
I toss my bags in the boot, slide into the backseat, and stare out the window, already itching to get to Croydon.
The car barely clears the airport loop when Mum turns and drops it on me.
“Oh, by the way, Chinaza is coming over later, and she’s bringing her friend,” she says casually. “You remember Francine, yes?”
My head snaps up from the window. “Huh?”
“Who are you‘huh’ing?” Dad grunts, eyes fixed on the road. “Zaza wants to see you. Haven’t you been gone long enough to miss your sister?”
“Of course I miss Za,” I mutter. “I’m here ‘cause I miss Za and you all. But tonight should just be the four of us. I’ve had enough people crowding my space.”
I cringe at the thought of the airport.
Mum smacks my knee lightly from the front seat. “Ah! Don’t be rude. She’s your sister’s only friend.”
“She’s my sister’s loudest friend too,” I shoot back. “The thought of the two of them together makes my head hurt already.”
It isn’t even Zaza that’s the problem. She’s tolerable in small doses. Loud, sure. Dramatic, definitely. But I put up with it because she’s my little sister.
The problem is that barnacleshe insists on dragging everywhere.
Her strange and obsessive friend.Francine.
