I didn’t wanna answer it, because answering meant I had to talk. Talking meant I had to explain. Explaining meant I had to say out loud that Sosa had me looking stupid behind this bitch Sheree, who was bold enough to text his phone like she had rights to him.
The phone stopped ringing. Then started right back. That was Mya. Persistent as hell when she felt like something was wrong.
I wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt, but it didn’t matter because the tears kept falling. My eyes were burning, my nose was running, and my chest felt like somebody had parked a truck on top of it.
“Hello,” I finally answered, my voice cracking.
Mya got quiet for half a second. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Yah-Yah, don’t play with me. You crying.”
I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. “I’m fine.”
“Girl, I know you. You not fine. Where Sosa at?”
That made the tears come harder because I didn’t even know where the fuck he was.
“Mya,” I whispered.
“What happened?”
I tried to talk, but the words got stuck. All that anger I had on the phone with Sheree had disappeared the second she hung up. Now all I had left was hurt. The kind of hurt that made you feel stupid. The kind that made you replay every moment, every lie, every kiss, every “I love you” and wonder which ones were real.
“Sosa cheating on me,” I finally got out.
There was silence.
“With who?” she asked, and her voice changed.
“The bitch named Sheree.”
“Sheree who?”
“I don’t know her last name. But she own that club Allure.”
“Allure?” Mya repeated, like the name alone pissed her off. “That spot on the West Side?”
“Yeah.”
Mya sucked her teeth so hard I heard it through the phone. “Oh, so she one of them bougie hood bitches with a liquor license and a security team?”
“She bold as hell, too,” I cried. “She texted his phone talking about, ‘you acting funny after I just sucked yo’ dick.’”
“What?”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting up because the anger was starting to find me again. “And I called her from his phone. Bitch got real cute. Talking about they got history, I’m the flavor of the month, and Sosa always come back to her.”
“Flavor of the month?” Mya repeated, and I could hear the way her attitude rose. “Bitch she got the wrong one.”
“She said he gon’ be in her bed regardless.”
“Where she at?”
“Mya—”
“Nawl, where she at?”
