Page 14 of Cooly

"Damn," she said, her voice carrying over the bass. "I forgot how live these parties be."

"Move." Diamond shoved past us without missing a beat. "They got goat meat. I need a plate before these vultures finish it."

We found a corner spot near the back with a low table and mismatched chairs. Somebody had strung fairy lights across the ceiling. I breathed out, feeling lighter than I had earlier. This was the kind of place that made you forget the world outside existed.

I'd barely sat down before a plate appeared in front of me—jollof, plantains, suya, and a heap of spicy jerk wings. I wasn’t even hungry, but I was about to eat anyway. It would be insulting not to when somebody's auntie was in the back running the show, and she was not playing. Plates appeared in front of Diamond and Ayo next.

"Eat," Diamond snapped. "Keep y'all mouths busy so you don't fuck up my mood."

Ayo sucked her teeth. I avoided looking at both of their faces and just ate. I wasn’t about to start any more conversations about the past. Diamond had a short fuse, and I wasn't in the mood to pull her off Ayo if shit went sideways.

By the time we finished, Ayo had her head tilted back, laughing at something Diamond had said—acting like what happened in the car hadn’t even happened.

"You're staring," she said, catching my eye.

"Maybe."

“Are you seeing me or Indigo?” she asked, but she was smiling.

I frowned. I hadn’t even thought about Indigo in a minute. That was new.

"Stop fucking with me, Ma," I said, shaking my head.

She laughed in my face. I ignored her.

The DJ flipped the track, and old-school Sean Paul slammed through the speakers. Diamond was up instantly, abandoning us without a word to melt into the sweaty crowd.

Ayo leaned across the table, close enough that I could smell the vanilla and something floral on her skin.

"Come dance with me," she said.

"I don't dance."

"You used to dance."

"Used to."

"So you still can."

I opened my mouth to argue, but she was already pulling me to my feet.

"One song," she said. "That's all I'm asking. My carriage is about to turn into a pumpkin, so we ain't got long. Just do what I want."

"One song."

We stepped into the crush of bodies. The space was small, dark, and intimate in the way only basements and late nights know how to be. I felt like I was in high school again. Everybody around us moved like the music owed them something. Ayo found the pocket immediately, rolling her hips in slow, unhurried circles, her eyes locked on mine like she was daring me to look away.

She was drunk, high, or maybe she was just that free around me still.

Her hands slid up to my shoulders. Mine found her waist. We swayed, the rhythm threading through both of us, the fairy lights smearing gold across her cheekbones.

“You miss it?” she asked, her voice low enough that only I could hear it over the bass.

“Miss what?”

“Us.”

I looked down at her.