Imani was just supposed to make sure that the lost dog got home safely, come back, and pretend like the mere thought of the owner with doe eyes and an armful of tattoos didn't make her question her entire belief system. Sounds simple enough...right...
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It's the sound of Layla's fingernails tapping against my glass of juice that makes me blink out of my reverie.
"Damn, finally," she mutters when I finally look at her face to find her eyebrows pinched together. "Orbited the sun for a bit there, did you?" When I just give her a weak shrug in return and begin tracing the rim of the glass with the tip of my index finger only to pull back when I feel the cold seeping into my skin, she sets her arms on the dining table and leans in my direction. "I was asking if I could do your makeup today."
I see her eyes sparkling behind that curtain of nonchalance she's put forth for my sake, and raise my eyebrows. "That... depends."
She tilts her head and stares at me expectantly, tucking escaped locks of hair behind her ear and batting her eyelashes at me. "On?"
Reaching out to poke her in the middle of her forehead with my middle finger, I stick my tongue out at her when she lets out an annoyed whine. "On what you're planning in that tiny, tiny brain of yours."
On a different day, I wouldn't question her and reply with an enthusiastic yes. But now that she has been constantly stressing on how I should 'give Kaia something to stare at', I don't trust her to not doll me up like I have a photoshoot in fifteen.
("You're oblivious as hell, Imani. She wants to rail you."
"Oh, my God, Layla, do you ever think before you speak? Shut up.")
"Okay, first of all my brain is as fat as my ass," she says, eyes wide and completely serious. When I stare at her with an unimpressed expression on my face, she adds, "Say my ass is fat, Imani."
"I will not."
"But you know it is."
"Can we stop talking about this? I don't care how big of a bahookie you—"
"Whoa, whoa," interrupts a voice and both Layla and I turn to find a scandalized looking Ved standing near the door. "What did I just walk in on?"
"Imani using the word 'bahookie' with her entire chest?" Layla suggests while I already begin to move on from the conversation, taking another gulp of my juice and hoping I don't throw it up later.
It feels impossible right now, considering I feel like the twinge of discomfort in my stomach should make an audible noise with how it seems to echo inside my body. But I've already said yes to Sean for the duet with Ved and since there's no way I'm backing out of this and ever letting myself disappoint Sean on purpose, I instead think of scenarios where I end up like Aubrey from Pitch Perfect when she's under pressure.
I reluctantly down the rest of it and distractedly tell Ved and Layla that I'm going back to my room, though I doubt either of them are paying attention to me in the midst of their very important conversation about who has the biggest butt in the house.
