" That's not fair and you know it," He gritted, " You're not the only one who blames themselves for his death."
" He's dead because of me, Exodus!" I yelled before I could even stop myself, " It should've been me laying in the fucking casket, not...
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Now playing.. CPR, by Summer Walker ... TORONTO, CANADA
" I CANT BELIEVE that stupid ass, no neck having ass bitch had the AUDACITY to even call you desperate! Like what the actual fuck is her problem?!" Nneka fumes, making her way inside my apartment with nothing but her bonnet on and her multicolored moomoo hanging to her knees.
I yawned, rubbing my eyes as I close the door behind her. " What?"
" And then don't even get me fucking started on the fact that this so called ' Harlem' tea shit has the audacity to fuckin PAIR YOU with someone you probably don't even know! I mean what kind of shit is that?!" She fussed, pacing around the room while stomping her foot against the hardwood floors.
I follow behind her, placing my hands on my hips as I scratch the side of my scalp. " Nene-"
" OH AND-" She paused, turning around as she stops mid rant. " Just so you know, you looked absolutely fucking stunning in that two piece."
" Thank you, but-"
" BUT STILL! Like don't get me wrong, people are always gonna try and make some type of assumption of what you have going on in your life, but what that Chloe bitch said was fucking uncalled for. Like why is it that every fucking time a guy is spotted with another girl, his ex always wants to play victim?! Like get the fuck over it! It's not that fucking deep!" She continues to ramble on, and I don't bother to interrupt her.
As Nneka continues her heated rant, I take the initiative to make her some tea and cut her a slice of velvet cake that I made last night, after Tanya left.
While the water was heating up, I opened the marbled cabinet and grabbed a plate. I slid the large piece of velvet cake onto the plate, then place a fork next to it. It was a little too early to eat sweets at seven in the morning, but I knew Nneka would appreciate it in some way.
When the water was finished heating up, I grabbed the coffee mug I had sat aside and placed the green tea bag inside, pouring the hot liquid inside the cup.
A thought comes to mind, my body stiffening in an instant. How could I explain to her that I did know him, and how we both were childhood friends, without explaining my tragic past?
There's no right or wrong way to tell her, because either way the truth will always come out. No matter the little lies you try to paint, or the various masks that you hide behind.
Sooner or later, my fears would be revealed. If not from social media, then from other unwanted sources.
You may say to yourself, 'how come she can't tell her best friend? Why is she acting as if she's going to be exiled?'
