Page 161 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

“The fuck was that?”

My gaze darts back to Celie.

“The fuck did you just do?”

Celie’s shaking her head,

eyes bugged, lips sealed.

No words.

She has no words.

A couple people rubberneck us as they file through the glass doors.

The doorman breaks from his post, eyes narrowed on the three women under the awning—one doubled over laughing, one ass-first on the sidewalk, and me, arms crossed and pissed ‘cause I’m still sad and sober.

He clears his throat, approaching awkward. “Ma’am, do you—uh—need assistance?”

We all turn at once,

three deer in the headlights.

No one knows what to say.

An awkward silence spans across seconds.

Then Celie explodes into tears⁠—

ugly, shaking, snot-level crying.

“My-my man broke up with me.

“I just need… a minute,” she weeps.

Doorman’s hands go up with a nod,

backing off.

The second he’s gone, Celie whips her head to Jordan, whisper-shouting through fake sobs: “Bitch, I need panties, sweats, a towel, and bleach right the fuck now. Go!”

Then she’s back to sobbing,

head in hands,

the act turned all the way up.

Buzz.

The vibration hits my thigh.

I dig my phone out of my clutch.

Buzz.

973-555-0194

This shit's dragged on long enough