laying in his bed and facetiming her friends, she snuggles deeper under the covers. "oh, this bitch is gone!" jasmine cries, referring to sierra.
"i'm DTN for life, fuck you mean?" she says, but there's a smile on her face as she says it. as much as jack pissed her off last night, she can't help but he giddy to be with him and in his presence. she should have known she was going to cave this fast.
"yeah niggas. not jack," deja corrects. sierra rolls her eyes while the two girls laugh. "but seriously, sierra. he got you in kentucky of all places."
"his grandpa had a stroke, of course i was going to be there for him," sierra replies. deja and jasmine seem to look at each other through the phone and sierra scoffs. "what? you'd do it too if you had a man." she says.
"oh, so that's your man now?" jasmine questions, a smirk on her face. sierra hadn't even noticed she said it, it just slipped out so naturally. "and don't think i aint catch that shade either, bitch. you're not slick."
sierra shrugs and glances at the closed bedroom door. jack isn't even here—he's picking his little brother, clay, and urban up from the airport. she looks back at her phone snd sticks her tongue out at her friends before propping her phone up against his lamp on the nightstand. "i mean, he's not my man, but hes my man, you know what i mean?" she says.
deja scoffs. "nope. i dont play that—we're either together, or we're not," she says. sierra can respect that, but it's not that simple sometimes. "so what is it, si?"
"why do we have to put a label on it?" she retorts. deja starts to go on about how labels aren't always a bad thing and that they create understanding and establish boundaries between a couple, and sierra wholeheartedly agrees, but drowns out her friends voice as a picture peeking out behind a stack of notebooks on his desk catches her eye.
"this bitch not even paying attention," deja complains. sierra mumbles a noncommittal "yes i am" and gets out of the bed to retrieve the familiar looking photo. the white polaroid edges are too familiar, and she already knows what the photo is before she pulls it out of the stack.
jack and her own reflection stare up at her, smiling wide, happy smiles. dozens of mardi gras beads hang around each of their necks. an alcoholic drink is pushed poorly out of frame on sierras side because, at the time, she was underage and obviously wasn't supposed to be drinking, especially not in photos she'd bring back to share with family.
the memory is clear as day for sierra. it was almost an entire year ago, when she was still twenty. it was a spontaneous trip taken amongst their mutual friends, spanning a week. it's the most school sierra has ever missed, and she doesn't regret it at all. they're memories she'll never forget and wouldn't trade for anything.
the picture was taken by urban on a polaroid he bought. the trip was shortly after "whats poppin" was released, and jack was getting noticed a lot more than usual. walking around in new orleans, though, they were able to be lowkey and just enjoy an impromptu vacation. they bar hopped all night, drinking the cheapest to the most expensive things, and enjoying the jazz that was audible from outside.
sierra had felt so happy in that moment, and urban was taking pictures of everyone. the smiles in the photo were real and genuine, hardly staged. he had snapped the picture at the perfect time, thus producing one of sierras favorite photos ever.
"look," sierra says, taking the photo and walking back over to the bed, putting the photo in front of the camera.
"was that in new orleans?" jasmine asks, recognizing a few elements of the photo. sierra nods and sets the photo on his nightstand before crawling back into jacks bed. "you're in his hometown in his old house, curled up in his bed and finding old pictures of y'all. where do we go from here?" jasmine asks.
