“I am.”
“No, you in love. It’s a difference.”
“That don’t make me feel better.”
“It wasn’t supposed to.”
I glanced over at her. She had on a black tracksuit, her hair pulled into a ponytail, and them big ass hoops she only wore when she was about to act a fool. She looked calm, but I knew my sister. Mya’s calm was dangerous.
“Where we going?” she asked.
“Allure.”
“Good.”
“You not gon’ tell me this is a bad idea?” I asked as she pulled off,
“It is a bad idea.” She said and I looked at her.
“But some bad ideas be necessary.”
That was all she said, and honestly, that was all I needed.
The ride to Allure was quiet at first. I stared out the window while Chicago moved past us in blurry lights and dark streets. Every time we passed a car that looked like Sosa’s, my stomach dropped. I kept wondering where he was.
“You know what’s fucking me up?” I said after a while.
“What?”
“He be acting like he love me so much.” Mya sighed.
“No, I’m serious,” I said, turning toward her. “He be looking at me like I’m the only woman in the world. He sleep wrapped around me every night. He call me his wife. He talk about kidsand the future and all this shit, and whole time he got some bitch out here feeling comfortable enough to text him crazy.”
“Men be selfish.”
“Sosa is selfish.”
“Very.”
“I hate him.”
“No, you don’t.”
I rolled my eyes because that pissed me off. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you hate what he did. You hate that he made you look stupid. You hate that he gave another bitch space to disrespect you. But you don’t hate him.”
I looked away because she was right, and that made me even madder.
“I wanna hate him,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“I wanna not care.”
“I know.”
“But I do.”
