Page 93 of Buy Back My Love

“The Daiquiri Trap.”

I shrugged. “I’m down.”

And just like that, shooting practice turned into girls’ night. That night we were posted up at the daiquiri spot with food all over the table and drinks in our hands. The place was packed and loud, the DJ running through old-school R&B and Southern rap while everybody tried to talk over the music.

We had fried shrimp, wings, fries, some loaded nachos Anika swore she wasn’t sharing even though everybody kept eating them, and enough daiquiris between us that I had stopped keeping track of whose cup was whose.

For the first time since the pumpkin patch, I was actually having a good time without having to force it. We sat around talking and laughing about some of the dumb stuff we used to do in our early twenties until my stomach hurt.

At some point, Anika pulled out her phone.

“Come on. We need pictures.”

“Of what?” I asked.

“Us, girl. Come on.”

“You been taking pictures all day.”

“And I’m finna take some more.”

That turned into a whole photoshoot. We took some at the table, some by the little neon sign on the wall, then made some random woman walking past take a few of all four of us.

When I started back toward the table, Nina caught my arm.

“Hold on, Lee. Let me get some of you by yourself.”

“Girl, for what?”

“Just stand over there.”

I laughed but did it anyway. Nina started taking pictures while Anika stood behind her directing like somebody was paying her.

“Turn a little bit. Yeah, like that. Now smile.”

“Girl, I know how to take a picture.”

“Clearly you don’t, because your ass ain’t posted one since you got home.”

“Here we go.”

When we finally sat back down, Nina had sent me enough pictures to fill my camera roll. I was flipping through them when Anika leaned over my shoulder and tapped one.

“That one.”

“This one?”

“Yes. Post it.”

I looked at her. “Why?”

“Because your ass been home how long and still ain’t posted yourself? People probably don’t even know you out.”

Nina leaned across the table to look. “And you look good. That black jumpsuit got your shape looking right.”

I looked at the picture again. She wasn’t lying. The jumpsuit hugged me everywhere it was supposed to, and the little burnt-orange jacket looked good with my brown Coach bag and sneakers. My gold jewelry popped against all that black too.

Anika pointed at my mouth. “Plus JB spent all that money on them teeth. Show them off.”