Honey and Spice(64)
Aminah was shaking her head, furious. “From what you’ve told me, that girl is bad vibes, Kiki.”
I swallowed. I’d scrolled through her ProntoPic profile, and her limited pictures were undergrad standard; bright and blurry club photos with her friends, some selfies—she was still so pretty—birthday dedication posts. No pictures of boyfriends, though. There was a picture with Yinda and Lysha, however, captioned “Day Ones.” My chest had pinched at it. Not necessarily because I missed them, but because I’d missed the chance to miss them.
“I don’t know.”
Aminah stopped power walking and yanked me back, gripping my arm. “I do know, Kiki. And whatever fucked-up mind game she’s trying to play will not work. You made the right decision in ignoring the request. Don’t mind her. You have other, more important things going on in your life, like the fact that you’re going to New York next year. Which you deserve because you missed out on that internship year before uni.”
I shook my head and started walking again, soothed a little by Aminah’s pep talk, but not completely. The fact that Aminah knew everything about me was helpful, but it also meant that she could bring up things I’d rather not bring up, such as the year before we met. “First of all, we don’t know if I will for sure. Second of all, not doing the internship in New York was on me.”
Aminah eyed me carefully before changing the subject. “Fine. You know what we haven’t discussed? How Malakai confessed to being a dick on campus-wide radio. That’s a wild move to make if he’s going to return to the singles market after your project.”
“What do you mean if? He is. Also, it could easily just be a tactic to endear the women of Blackwell to him.”
The words were uneasy in my mouth, didn’t fit right on the Malakai I was getting to know. He was genuine.
I shrugged. “Either way, vulnerability is sexy. Plenty of women are still going to be attracted to him.”
Aminah rolled her eyes (lined—she said just because we’re working out doesn’t mean we should look like it). “Girl, do you really think he was thinking about that? He sounded like he wanted the ground to swallow him up when he was confessing. You got a Yoruba man from south London to swallow his pride. Do you know what a feat that is? That was real.”
I tucked my smile back in and tried to suppress the warmth that washed over me. Aminah’s eyes immediately widened in scandalized delight. “Your face—what is that? I have never seen that before in my life. You’re coy. Are you coy?” She lifted her arms with triumph into the sky. “Ki-coy Banjo, wow, I love it—”
I looked around at the sparse courtyard and pulled her arms down. “Could you chill a little please? Malakai and I have found a good rhythm now. I was skeptical but we’re actually friends.” I thought back to our last phone call . . . flirtatious friends, maybe, but still friends. “That’s it.”
Aminah made a choke of amused disbelief as she hitched her thighs up higher on her march. “Oh, okay. Sure. That’s what it—” Her phone chirruped, saving me from what I knew would be an inaccurate speech about how I was in denial. She sighed and zipped her gray hoodie down, pulling out her phone from her purple crop top. Her brows shot up as she read the message. “Kofi’s texting me about what color I’m wearing to the AfroWinter Ball.”
I grinned as I hiked up my arms and legs. “Oh, he wants to match. That’s adorable.”
The Blackwell Society had a booking for the ballroom at the fanciest hotel just outside town, known for teachers’ conferences, team-building seminars, and Blackwell’s answer to the Met Gala.
Aminah rolled her eyes but she failed to hide her delighted grin. “Whatever. He still hasn’t formally asked so I hope he doesn’t think this counts. Apparently because Malakai’s agreed to film some of the night and Kofi’s DJing they get rooms as part of their payment and Kofi wants to give us one. Cinna said we can drive up together. What do you say?”
I shrugged, evading the fact that Malakai and I would be staying overnight in the same building for a second time. “Sounds good.”
Aminah stuck her phone back into her crop top and zipped up her hoodie. “Wow. Never thought I’d see the day where you actually attend social events with me. I mean first, I’m gonna get to go to Ty Baptiste’s party and now the ball with my bestie? If I knew all it took was you being in a fake relationship . . .” Her smile was stiffening.
I tilted my head. “Hey . . . Minah, I never told you to miss Ty’s party, and you know this is just for the sh—”
“Show. Yeah, I know.” Her smile brightened, shining over any tiny pinpricks of unease. “Look, either way I’m glad you’re letting yourself have fun with a boy. And I don’t think Zack counts. I feel like Zack was just kind of, like, a sentient dildo. A barely sentient dildo. That you didn’t even bang. So maybe a barely sentient titty squeezer. Dry hump utility equipment—”
“Alright, well, I ain’t going be having that kind of fun with Kai, so—”
“Yeah, I was going to ask about that actually . . . Kai?”
I took a deep whiff of the cool damp of the air, and let the breeze hit the skin exposed by my black tank top. Power walking really took it out of me it seemed, so my hoodie was tied around my waist. “Don’t you feel invigorated by the smell of the outdoors?”