If I could click my heels three times and get transported back to the one place where I’m banned from thinking, I’d click them in a heartbeat. IthinkI need to bum a ride in Ace’s luxury spaceship and dip off to the only place that felt right these days.
“Dang, girl. Okay... okay, maybe we can pray about all this later. Let’s do this—how about I text Bryson and tell him you don’t want to go—”
“No! Why the hell would you do that?”
“I don’t know! I mean, it would easily solve all those problems you just listed. Just. Don’t. Go.”
“I can’tnotgo.”
And risk another weekend being locked away after Ace gave me a taste of freedom in the form of tuna tartare, Janet Jackson, shifty sports agents, and wet panties.
I close my eyes, swallowing my room’s stale air that didn’t taste like him.
“I mean, what difference would it make, Phat? I’m sure there’ll be other parties.”
“Yeah, foryou! It would make a big difference, but I don’t expect you to get it—”
The doorbell echoing through the house cuts into my words. It wasn’t nothing but Jesus and that Holy Convocation she kept talking about that saved her from the evil words tip toeing on my tongue.
“Phat!” Mama hollers.
“I got it, Mama! Dang!” I push up, tripping over my backpack that Ace slid onto my shoulder when he left me on the porch the night of the gala with star-crossed eyes and a throbbing ass.
“I gotta go, Chels.”
I don’t give her a chance to reply before I hang up and jog to the front door. I hold my breath for Lucy to be behind it, ranting in Spanish about how she gave up her shift for me, but when I fling it open, it’s just a plump black lady in scrubs with a rolling backpack.
“Can I help you?” I frown.
She smiles. “Lourdes?”
“Phat.”
“Sorry,Phat.” She chuckles. “He said you’d say that.”
“Who are you?” I peer behind her, looking for the “he” she’s talking about.
It’s nobody there but her and the heat though.
“I’m Jazmine. Junior sent me to help with CeCe for the night. He says you had somewhere to be.” Her eyes trail my bleach stained sweats and tank top.
“Junior?”
“Yeah, well, Ace. Sorry, I know him as Jun—”
“I can’t afford a provider, Miss.”
“Healsosaid you would say that. He told me to tell you tonight’s on him.”
My throbbing ass cheek thumps harder and that annoying wetness I can’t get rid of gets worse.Fuck... Ason. The aftermath of the Shooting Stars Gala won’t even let me call him Ace when I’m in a frenzy anymore. He’s been Ason ever since he had my neck in his mouth and his hand on my ass for fangirling over a man that wasn’t him.
I squeeze my phone against my moist palm with a sigh.
“Well.” Jazmine laughs. “Can I come in?”
I step back and pull the door open wider, thanking God and this stupid boy that I hate and like.
“Phat! Who is it?” Mama hollers again.
