“To the mall. They won’t deliver the furniture until tomorrow after five, so we have the rest of the day to do whatever.”
“Let’s go to the mall then. I want you to model for me like you used to. That shit got a nigga rock hard,” he smirked as he hopped in the passenger seat of the car.
I glared at him, brows meeting in the center of my forehead. “I don’t know why you got me driving everywhere. Did you forget how to do it when you were in jail?”
Booda chuckled. “Nah, but my license suspended. Until I get that shit right, you gotta be my personal driver.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “Just know when you get it back, I’ma be a passenger princess, and you bet not say shit about it.”
“I won’t.” Booda grinned, and for some reason, I knew he wouldn’t complain.
The roads were slick, so it took us a little longer than usual to get to our next destination, but neither of us seemed to notice. The conversation flowed easily between us, and every few minutes, Booda said something else that made me laugh. Not fake laughs either. Real ones that caught me off guard and made my stomach hurt a little afterward.
At one point, he started roasting the furniture salesman for trying too hard to sound rich.
“Did you hear that nigga say imported Italian leather six different times?” he asked, shaking his head. “We get it. The cow had a passport.”
I laughed so hard I almost missed the exit.
“And then he gon’ tell us the couch was handcrafted.”
“Maybe it was,” I argued.
“Nah. Ain’t no nigga named Handcraft make that couch.”
I rolled my eyes while he sat there grinning beside me, looking way too proud of himself for such a stupid joke.
The longer we talked, the easier it became to forget about my troubles. Things between us were easy. This was how we’d been together when life wasn’t actively trying to destroy us.
By the time we pulled into the parking garage, the city looked washed clean, like the storm had scrubbed everything down except me.
Booda looked over as I cut the engine. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
“You lying.”
“I said I’m good.”
He studied me for another second before finally nodding toward the mall entrance. “Aight then. Come spend our money.”
I snorted before climbing out.
The mall was packed because, apparently, the weather made people want to spend money they probably didn’t have. Music echoed throughout the building while groups of people moved from store to store carrying bags and cups of overpriced coffee.
Booda stayed close beside me as we walked, one hand brushing the small of my back every now and then while people moved around us.
“You wanna hit shoes first or clothes?” he asked.
“Clothes.”
“That’s my girl.”
The first store almost overwhelmed me when we walked inside. Mannequins were dressed head to toe in shit that cost way more than I planned on spending, and the scent of perfume floated through the air beneath bright lights reflecting off polished floors.
For a second, I just stood there taking it all in.
It wasn’t like I’d never seen stores like this before, because I had. The strange part was realizing how familiar everything felt. Memories of shopping here with Booda kept surfacing little by little, and although none of it felt completely new, it still felt distant somehow.
