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I look over to Amiyah, my eyes narrowing. “It might be.”
She sighs, taking a seat anyway. “Look, I wanted to see if you both would like to go shopping with me. My treat.”
I set my drink down, folding my arms on the table and leaning closer. “We are not a charity case.”
“I don’t want a charity case, I want friends,” she bursts out, hands shaking slightly.
Prim frowns at Amiyah. “You could have started with that. Why would your first go-to be to buy us things?”
I study Amiyah, the sadness in her eyes, how I only ever see her around The Misfits. All men, no females, ever. She shrugs. “Every friend I’ve ever had liked me for my money.”
Prim points her spoon at Amiyah. “You cannot buy our friendship.”
Amiyah looks over to me, sadness mixed with longing reflecting in her honey pools.Damn it.“Fine, trial run. Girls’ night on Friday. We’ll see if you passourtrials.”
She smirks. “Okay. My house.”
“House?” I ask.
She nods. “We have a house here on campus. Lots of spare rooms. You won’t even have to sleep in mine. It’ll be fun.”
“Hold on.”
“Bye.” She waves, a bright smile cutting into her high cheekbones as she walks away with a pep in her step.
“Wednesday are always so weird,” Prim mumbles.
My head jerks over to her. “What?” I laugh.
She shakes her head. “Exactly.”
I look back to my food, wondering if this is a trap. But no, I saw the sad desperation in her eyes. And now I have an excuse to look for clues. But is it wrong to use Amiyah like this? No, not when people’s lives may be at stake.
* * *
Primrose’s eyesdon’t widen like mine do when I see Amiyah’shome.The building looks older, matching the general theme of the campus. And it’s huge. Primrose moves first, walking up the steps to the door, knocking.
Vance opens the door, his smile widening as he braces his hands on the doorframe. “Finally come for me, Angel?”
Prim wrinkles her nose as Amiyah shoves Vance’s huge body out of the way. She smiles, eyes bright. “You actually came.”
“We said we would,” Prim says softly, smiling.
Amiyah catches my eye. “Come in.”
The house looks staged like a movie set. No signs of life, just cold black leather, dark hardwood floors, the décor modern and sleek. A staircase by the entrance of the bland living room. No fluffy accent pillows, throw blankets, or even a coffee cup from this morning.
We walk up the stairs after Amiyah. Her room being the first on the landing. It’s gives me pause. It’s beads and tribal print meets Broadway. They shouldn’t go together, but strangely, they do. We do have several moments of awkwardness. None of us really knowing the other, but Amiyah is quick to rectify this and immediately starts a spa night.
I place a mask on Prim’s face, and she flinches from the cold. Amiyah paints Prim’s toes a baby pink. We are all in our pajamas. Me in my small cotton shorts and matching top with thin straps, a cherry pattern on them. Amiyah’s is an emerald green silky sleep set with lace trimming. And Prim wears a simple cotton nightgown. We’ve been having more of a beauty party, if I’m honest. Mani-pedis, facials, listening to music way too loud. It’s been surprisingly fun.
Prim sighs. “I’ve never had a girls’ day.”
Amiyah and I both frown. “What do you mean? You’ve never gone and got your nails done?” I question, using a facial roller on Prim’s face.
She stares at the ceiling, something so sad it makes my chest hurt twinkles in her ice blue eyes. “I’ve been locked in a cage my entire life.”
I freeze as Amiyah’s face hardens. “Like…” I trail off, wanting her to tell me.
