CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 21

As we stood in the entryway waiting for Karter to pick me up for the movies, Mom fussed with my phone. She laid a piece of clear packing tape across the broken screen and tried to tell me it was basically good as new. What she was really saying was that she stopped paying for the insurance on it and I wasn’t getting a new one anytime soon. I was just glad she didn’t press me about what happened.

“I’m glad you’re getting out of the house with Karter,” said Mo. “But when are you gonna let that rich girl take you on a date?”

“Maybe I’ll ask her out. But not because she’s rich,” I said. “I like her.”

“Whatever you wanna do, baby,” Mom said, smiling. “Anybody’s better than that heffa Jasmine or that man-whore Travis.”

“Mom! Come on. Jasmine wasn’t that bad.”

“You have your thoughts, I got mine,” Mom said smugly.

My ex-girlfriend wasn’t really ready to be in a relationship and our breakup was mutual, but all Mom and Mo saw was that she started dating a senior as soon as we split up. It was just too convenient for them. But Travis? Yeah, he deserved that title, and I broke up with his dusty ass as soon as I found out he was seeing not one, but two other chicks from different schools.

“You have your phone all the way charged?” Mo asked.

“Yup. And I’m bringing the charger with the wall piece and the car adapter.” I swear, sometimes leaving the house felt like I was going on a mission from which I might never return.

“You got cash?” Mom asked. “A lot of places only take cash. And take the Mace with you too.”

“Mom, we’re only going to the movies.” I gave her a big hug. “While I’m gone, you and Mo can watch Netflix, play Uno, whatever boring stuff y’all do when I’m not around. Don’t worry about me.”

Mom hugged me back. “Be careful.”

“I will.” I pocketed my Mace just to make her happy.

The doorbell rang. Mo answered it, and Karter tripped over the threshold.

Mo caught him by the elbow. “You okay?”

He straightened his T-shirt and smoothed the front of his jeans. “I’m good. Thanks.” He held a small bouquet of daisies in his hand.

“Are those for me?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, handing me the flowers. “Pretty, right? I—I know you like plants.”

Mom and Mo exchanged a quick, worried glance.

A crinkling sound drew my attention to the flowers in my hand. The long, milky-white petals elongated, and the sunny yellow centers brightened.

“Baby, why don’t you let me put those in some water,” said Mom as she reached for the bouquet.