𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄

29

Ali ends up dropping Dieson and me off, his expression blank as my heart races faster and faster the closer we get to Ethayn's.

I had changed into a tight black dress, probably the shortest one Amina owned and the black heel boots. I kind of missed her then and there. It hugged me like a glove, almost too tightly because of my ass. It was a turtleneck, so no cleavage showed, and I didn't bother to wear a bra, my breasts sat up nicely enough on their own. Any man who disagreed with that could be buy me some silicone, the fuck.

I don't have on any panties.

My hair is starting to puff a bit at the roots, and I'm thinking about just washing out my silk press tomorrow and doing a natural hairstyle. I have more flexibility and time now that I don't have to worry about dancing on the stage and random schedules. For now, I have two braids along the front of my head, meeting at the back of it as the rest of my hair falls down in curls.

"You ready?" Dieson asks from the passenger seat, glancing at me in the back.

"N-Yes," I say, a bit jittery. I look through the small handbag I had brought, my fingers hesistating on the small pouch of pills I had. How I had made it through the terminals, I don't know. Probably Dieson's influence.

If I took some I could do this tonight and forget about it. But if I don't, I might lose a piece of myself.

We get to Ethayn's, a much smaller place than the one Dieson and I were at but still a bit more fancy than what I was used to. The houses over here are much closer together, and Ethayn's driveway is packed. The house windows are cracked too, soft trails of smoke drift out of them. I can hear loud laughter through our car, and my body trembles.

This wasn't supposed to happen again. I was supposed to be free.

"I'll be nearby," is all that Ali says. With no way to contact him, and uncertainty if I would even want to contact him, Dieson and I exit the vehicle, heading up to the door.

He only knocks once and someone yells out that it's open. We hesistantly step inside, and I'm the one who closes the door behind us. A small gathering of people wait in the living room, playing board games, drinking, and holding up pictures that Ethayn had seemed to carefully arrange on her small mantle. The house was pretty lived in and bordering on the line of cozy to cluttered.

Ethayn pops out from the kitchen, licking something off her fingers and cradling a bowl of batter against her hip. "Hey! Let me introduce you to everybody."

So then we got to meet her several partners. A tall guy who looked like the epitome of a stereotypical Canadian, a Black guy with locs and a pierced lip, a girl with frizzy, wavy hair who held a book and shy nature, and a polite smile who reeked of weed, another White guy just as pale as Canadian Dude with locked hair and ultra bright teeth, and a girl who's race I couldn't quite place with curly hair and Ethayn's picture frames in her hand.

Then we met some of the other friends she invited, a variety of people from different backgrounds and races with university shirts on like they had just came from a game, clearly around my age group compared to half of Ethayn's partners.

Dieson and I said our greetings and finally settled on a corner of the couch that alcohol hadn't been seated in or that an unattended slice of pizza on a plate hadn't been placed upon like a baby asleep at a party.

"I hate it here," I whisper.

"Give them a chance," Dieson whispered back, clearly sharing the same feeling as me but not admitting it.

"Come over here, I'm making brownies," Ethayn welcomes me into the kitchen and encourages Dieson to chill with everyone else.

Me and Ethayn aren't alone in here and other people bustle in and out of the kitchen. "You interested in staying with your Dieson?" she questions, quite straightforward.