High Fidelity

11. new meat

Sydney Bay Janes

"Delaney!" I yelled from my bedroom.

She rushed in, toothbrush in her hand. "You know, I really wish you'd call me Aunt-"

"Have you seen my purse?" I asked, frantically searching the room.

Her arms flailed. "Well, no. Have you looked in all the boxes?"

"I had it last night! The Dior one? Ugh." I whined in my bath towel, plopping onto the bed.

"Sorry, lover. Retrace your steps," she suggested, twirling out of the room.

"UGH!" I muffled my scream with a pillow.

The ends of my hair got wet in the shower so I put it into a bun. After doing my brows, light shadow, and mascara, I threw on a cropped white top with puffy sleeves and a pair of light washed denim high-waited shorts. I paired them with square toe block heel mules that would've looked great with my Dior bag.

Once ready so early, I went into the kitchen where I searched high and low for the first designer bag I purchased myself.

"--Tony Becker has been admitted into the hospital," I heard the news reporter talk on the kitchen television.

"Turn that off," I hissed at Delaney.

"Why, not a fan?" she asked, clueless.

My phone ringing thankfully got me out of that conversation.

"I'm on my way, Chy," I rushed on the phone. After all the years we've spent together, I knew she was calling to rush me.

"Girl, I had to make sure," she talked. I could hear she was on the road.

"I'll be there soon. You going straight to the hotel, or want to get food?"

"You treating?"

"Yes, of course," I giggled, grabbing my other purse.

On my way out, I waved to Delaney and ran down the driveway to the Uber.

***

"Girl, you look so good, I can't get over it," my best friend hyped me up.

I blushed, pushing the newspaper away. "Stop, that's all you. Thank you again for bringing my car-"

"Didn't I tell you to stop thanking me? You're my girl, it's what I'm for," she smiled.

I swirled my iced coffee and pushed the wavy brown hair behind my shoulder.

"Mm, your Dior bag would've looked so cute with this outfit," she noted.

I bulged my eyes. "I know! I lost it."

"No, you never lose that bag, girl," she stated.

"That's why I'm pissed it's gone. I don't know, I went out last night, then... poof. It's gone."

"Excuse me?" she coughed.

"What?" I looked around her face.

Chyna smacked her thick lips. "You not about to just skip over that like you didn't say you went out last night. With who? Where?!"

I rolled my eyes. "It's nothing, really."

"Then why ya cheeks touching your ears? Spill. Who is he? God, you didn't take your aunt's boyfriend, did you?"

My face straightened, annoyed, she would even think that of me. "Tom? No! God, Chyna, I'm not a hoe-"

"A little bit. I mean, a homewrecker, hoe... same thing."