“No? Every time I call you, you either at the studio or at Seth’s.”
“That’s not even remotely true,” I lie for some reason. Because yes, I do spend most of my time with Seth, but so what? That’s what best friends do, right? And especially since this COVID shit happened.
“So what’s Seth doing tonight?” she pushes.
“I don’t know?”
“That a question or a statement?”
I sigh, rolling my eyes.
“Now, either you find something to do, or start making yourself useful.”
“Jesus,” I mumble.
“Na-ah!”
“What,nowyou believe in God?” I raise my brows, shooting her a look.
“I ain’t risking it,” she states with a flick of her head.
I gape at her, scoff, and gesture at the TV. “I thought we were watching that clown murderer documentary?”
She clicks her tongue. “You want some toilet paper?”
“What?” I frown, not sure if I heard her right.
“For all that shit you’re spewing.” Fine. I don’t share her enthusiasm for true crime. And I don’t want to watch that fucking clown murderer, but I don’t want to spend the night home alone either.
I narrow my eyes, examining her. She’s got her braids up in a big bun, her blue jeans have been swapped for a yellow dress and—
“You’ve got lip-gloss on,” I state, leaning back on the couch, resting my ankle over the other knee.
“So?” she says, dropping her gaze and dusting off her clothes.
I suck on my teeth, staring at her. When she looks up, I tilt my head, raising my brows. “So, who is he?”
“I don’t know whatchu talking about,” she says, matter-of-factly.
I blow a bubble with my gum until it pops. “Uh-huh. Well, then you won’t mind me staying?”
She clicks her tongue, putting her hands on her hips. “Kaden Ezekiel—"
“Wow, full name. Really?”
“—Merrick. Can’t a woman have some privacy in her own home?”
I blink at her. Two times. Three.
She sighs. “Fine. It’s Homer.”
“Simpson?”
She shoots me a tired look. “Davis.”
“Our neighbor?” I raise my brows.
“Na-ah, you moved out. He’s not your neighbor anymore. Now, you best start moving that skinny ass outta here, or I’ll be late.”
