“Yeah. I made that arrangement with a man who keeps his word. And you’re not him. Good night, Jabari.”
twenty-seven
et tu brute?
Jabari.
?I don’t knowhow long I stand outside their door before I actually knock.
Long enough forthe apology I practised in the car to stop sounding like an apology
Long enough for me to wonder if this is even worth it.
Long enough to realise that if I leave without trying, I’m exactly the kind of man she accused me of being last night when I called her.
Acoward.
That’s all she said before hanging up and not returning my calls.
So I knock.
Properly.
Footsteps answer after a while and when the lock turns, the door opens.
Frankie stands there barefoot in one of my oversized sleep tees she refuses to admit I gave her, locs tied up in a loose bun that looks like she just woke up from a nap.
My jelly-bean does love her sleep.
For a second, I forget what I came here to do.
Then I remember when she shrugs her shoulders, beckoning me to state my reasoning for appearing in front of her as if it wasn’t obvious.
“You look tired.”
“Yeah well, I was up all night comforting my friend.”
My eyes move past her automatically.
“Is she here?”
“No.”
I frown. “No?”
“She’s at the rehearsals.”
My brain takes a second to catch up with that information because I came here prepared to face both of them and explain my actions once.
“Oh. That’s fine,” I correct quickly. “I’ll wait.”
“Wait outside.”
She says it like it’s not up for discussion as she starts to shut the door.
I stop it with my foot. “Can I come in?”
“No.”
