I removed the cover from her food and grabbed a crispy French fry and held it up to her lips. She quickly chomped it down as if it was the best thing since sliced bread. I took a seat on the edge of her bed while she managed to sit up and elevate herself with a few pillows.
“We both know what I did after high school, but what about you?” I asked, serving up a few more fries and a bottle of water.
After sucking down half a bottle of water, she replied, “I got my degree in computer science and minored in finance. From there, I went on to an internship at Google and then landed an entry level job in Silicon Valley at Apple. I worked there for two years and just recently found a home with Capital One.”
My brows lifted. “Wow, congrats.”
“Thanks.”
“What made you get into computers?”
“In school, my favorite subject was always math, and when you couple that with careers that are going to make you the big bucks, it was kind of a no-brainer.”
“So, you must be good with crunching numbers and shit.”
“It's more than being good at numbers. You have to have the certifications to make the real money. I'm talking, IAT, SSCP, CISSP?—”
I threw my hands up in the air. “Okay, chill. It just sound like you throwin' the alphabet at me right now. I get it, you gotta be smart. You've always been that.”
She shrugged before tossing a few more fries in her mouth. “I know.”
I shot her a disapproving glance. “Damn, you can't even take a compliment from a nigga.”
She held her hands out in protest. “No, I—I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant to say was?—"
“Thank you?” I said, cutting her off at the pass.
She sighed. “Yeah.”
“You got it from here? I’m about to eat my own shit before it gets cold,” I asked, passing her the plate of fries and wings. If she was coherent enough to talk, she was coherent enough to feed her damn self.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Aight, cool. I’ll see you later.”
“Hendrix, wait!” she called out.
My neck turned back in the direction of her voice. “Yeah?”
“Thank you…”
I bobbed my head. “You’re more than welcome.”
eleven
. . .
Cassidy
I woke up hours later, feeling like a new woman. We’d gotten fucked-up so early in the day that when I woke up that evening, I felt like it was the next day. After sitting up slowly, I stretched and drew in the lingering scent of warm, blue skies and fields of amber from Hendrix’s cologne against my comforter. After stepping out of the shower and doing my hair and makeup for the night, I decided on a short, dusty blue silk dress and strappy four-inch black heels. With my cell turned back on, ignoring Omar’s calls for the umpteenth time had me fighting the urge to get fucked-up all over again.
We stepped into the club and were immediately greeted with blue, pink, and purple neon-hued strobe lights. The DJ was on the mic hyping up the crowd that was packed shoulder to shoulder on the dance floor. As soon as word got around that a professional NBA player was in the building, we were all quickly rushed to a private VIP section. Soon, our section was flooded with bottles of Casa Migos, Cîroc, and Hennessy, causing my girls and their men to cheese from ear to ear.
“Lauryn, you’re the smartest bitch alive,” Shauna said, nudging her.
“I know, right.” Lauryn giggled.
“Order anything y’all want on me,” Hendrix announced.
