Honey and Spice(51)
I could feel Malakai weighing my words. “I don’t think you’re emotionally fucked. You’re just selective with what you express. Protective. Just means that when you do choose to share stuff it’s special.”
He’d caught me with one hand, quickly, simply. My lips parted to say words that refused to leave my mouth. Malakai, as if understanding my limited capacity for this sort of talk, let the pause stay natural, and continued speaking, as if he’d just made a mere observation, no judgments, no questions.
“I lied to you, by the way.”
The muscles in my stomach constricted. Malakai’s gaze stayed ahead of him, and his face remained still, straight. It was ridiculous. Ridiculous that we’d known each other, what, a week and my body was already wrapping in on itself, guards ready to have their spikes up in self-preservation as if it was possible for him to hurt me. He shouldn’t have been able to. Weird how the tiny defiant bulb of hope made its presence known only when it shattered after plummeting to the bottom of me. It was fine. I barely knew him. This was professional. Friendship had seemed like a possibility and now it wasn’t. It was fine. Wasteman of Whitewell. Nothing to lose.
“About what?” I kept my tone level, void of emotion.
Malakai’s pause hung in the midst of Frank Ocean telling us that a tornado flew across his room. “When I said I only hung out with you to prove a point at FreakyFridayz, I was lying. I said it because I was pissed. You said all this shit about me and I just got in my head. I thought I might as well be that. I thought I was doing something, some sort of double bluff to prove that it didn’t matter what you thought of me, but I just ended up being a dickhead. And a Wasteman. I shouldn’t have said that. Me lying was because, for some reason, I do care what you think of me, on some level.” He rubbed the back of his neck but kept his eyes trained on the road. “I hung out with you that night because I wanted to hang out with you. That’s it. That’s the truth. There was no hidden agenda.”
Malakai was still looking straight ahead at the road, and he was usually so forthright in looking at me—even if only with tiny, discreet glances—that I knew it could only be down to nerves. The guards stood down and a surprising, overwhelming rush of ease and affection ran through me.
“Um, so do people call you Kai? Is that a thing?”
I saw Malakai relax against his seat in relief that I wasn’t going to make him go further. He said what he said. I heard what he said. What more to be said?
Malakai shook his head. “Nah. Not really. You’re the only one that’s ever called me that, actually.”
My cheeks flared. I was glad the last meal I had was perfect because I was about to shed my fucking mortal coil. “Shit. Well, that’s embarrassing. I’ll stop.”
Malakai eyes stayed focused on the road. “Why?” He twitched his shoulder. “Don’t.”
My smile had had enough of being trapped and spilled out, wide and brazen and messy, dripping everywhere. It soaked through my clothes and into my skin.
Chapter 12
The Blackwell Beat with Lala Jacobs
What’s good, my fellow Blackwellians! Welcome to The Blackwell Beat with me, Lala Jacobs, where we give you the tea, Black, no sugar. Blackwell’s resident R&B relationship advisor, Kiki Banjo, was seen getting frisky at FreakyFridayz when she locked lips with the newest player in town, double-chocolate-fudge-mocha Malakai Korede, just a few days after warning girls off him. Now obviously this smelled a little bit suspect, looked like she wanted to save dessert for herself. Had some of us rattled. We’ve been listening to her advice for a year and if we can’t trust her with that, then what else was she lying about? Is she really about it? Well, fear not, people, because I’ve done my digging and word on the tweet is that it was just super unfortunate timing. Apparently Malakai and Kiki squared up to each other shortly after her show aired, him calling her out and her refusing to back down. Sparks flew and enemies became baes. Cute! And I know some of us will be salty about it, but it wasn’t planned and I think we all know Kiki always keeps the girls in mind. I, for one, stan the newest couple in town. I also got some intel from Kiki’s camp that a new series will launch on Brown Sugar, inspired by the new romance. Gotta Hear Both Sides will be four episodes where the campus cuties will give us a He Said She Said on dating. I personally look forward to following their updates on social media, and I’m sure I won’t be the only one preeing.
This was The Blackwell Beat with Lala Jacobs. Until next time, folks.
I pulled my earphones out of my ears as Lala signed off. So, it was official. It was a few days after the Sweetest Ting nondate and I’d been at the campus coffee shop, Beanz, waiting for my order, when I got a notification for a new upload of The Blackwell Beat, the quick turnover webcast “news channel” for all “melanated members of the student body,” which operated in front of a green screen in communications and politics student LaLa Jacobs’ room. Although she had to play an objective role for her show, she always had our back and always shouted out FreakyFridayz and Brown Sugar, being Aminah’s classmate and one of the few people she actually liked. It wasn’t surprising to me that Aminah had got a press release sorted and managed to give the inside scoop to The TeaHouse’s rival. Aminah was good at what she did. It was a slick move that got the word out and exacted revenge on Simi for trying to mess with us. My phone pinged.