“You didn’t see my tweet this morning?” Chelsea groans. “I thought I told you The Holy Convocation’s today and Granny talking about she need help setting up.”
I rake my fingers through my braids, staring at Lucy’s text while Chelsea smacks on her gum over my phone’s speaker.
Lucy:Can’t do it tonight mija. I picked up an overnight shift.
“And that’s going to last all night?”
“Look, you know how those things are. I also ain’t prayed all week and God ain’t playing with me about it. I need every prayer I can get. Do you know Blythe been sneaking her funky, drum major boyfriend in while I’m sleeping at night?”
I blow out a breath and fall back against my bed. “Oh. For real?”
“And doyouknow Marcus blocked me on Insta again? Which I also tweeted about twenty-two hours ago and you have yet to acknowledge it!”
“I ain’t see it.”
“For somebody that sits on Twitter subbing Bry all day, you sure ain’t see squat these past two days. Why the quiet timeline, bestie? What’s up?”
Ace—he was up. He was up on Twitter telling the world my business in rap lyrics, subtweets, and questions, because somehow he knew I was still lurking on there. I didn’t have time to deal with Chelsea and her church girl tweets.
@AceWilliamsJr 1d
Y’all remember your first date? Shit, mine was at the slauson super mall with Bri from Leimert Park. I ain’t even get a kiss after I dropped a dub on door knockers and fake LV. Ha!
@AceWilliamsJr 1d
Niggas bet not be out here getting kisses off first dates if I didn’t.
“You liked Bryson’s tweet about Splashtown this morning and it’s like I blinked and it was gone.”
Because Ace didn’t play about that shit.
@AceWilliamsJr 1d
What’s that saying moms used to pull out when you didn’t listen? Hard head makes a soft ass? That’s how that go?
That’s exactly how it went.
I brush a finger across the tender spot on my left cheek underneath my pajama shorts. It’s been a week, and it still throbs when I sit down, and so does the valley between my legs. The skin on my ass is lighter, so it turned a nasty purple color yesterday and Ace told Twitter all about it like he was in the bathroom with me when I noticed it.
@AceWilliamsJr 1d
Purple’s an elite color for sure. It’s my favorite.
“Hello...?” Chelsea calls out. “Is this about Bryson’s pipsqueak tail and the random texts you been sending me about boys pulling back? Is he trying to ghost you? Is this why you’ve been so quiet? Should I pull up to his musty dorm? I still can’t believe you agreed to go on an actual date with him. Yikes.”
I couldn’t either, but it was a once in a lifetime thing just like Ason Williams’ Shooting Stars Gala was. It was a way to peel myself off Mama’s side for one night, even if it wasn’t with the boy I wanted to go with. The boyIwanted was too busy giving me physical space I didn’t ask for while dedicating his whole timeline to me. There hadn’t been anymore spontaneous gala dates or pop-up visits. I still don’t know how he figured out I agreed to go with Bryson.
“No! It’s not about Bryson. Please do not pull up on him on your way to praise Jesus.”
“Well, should I have Granny swing by and get you for the convocation?”
“Hellno.”
She gasps. “Well, do you need prayer, girl? Is that what the Twitter silence is all about? You know I was just watching Sarah Jake’s sermon about the power of silence this morning—”
“Chelsea! Please! I’m going to Splashtownalonewith Bryson because you flaked. My closet’s empty, and Marcus forgot to take me to Target before he left for work this morning. Now Lucy talking about she picked up an extra shift tonight, so who the fuck gon’ sit with Mama? I don’t need prayer... I—I need...”
I fall back against my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
