Chapter Thirty-Four: Of Course He Was Gonna Show Up
702 Words
Lyric
“Bestie, you got tape?”
I tossed her the roll from the drawer. “Duct tape or the clear one?”
“Both,” she said, holding balloons in her teeth. “We gonna make this party look like money even if we only spent two hundred.”
I laughed, shaking my head as I tied another streamer.
It was Friday — one week before summer break — and Janiyah was in full party planner mode.
She called it her “I Deserve a Damn Break” celebration.
Just a small party at her house. Drinks, music, a couple of cute outfits, and a whole lotta hood energy.
And I promised I’d help.
I just didn’t expect him to be involved.
We were halfway into organizing when Smoke texted.
Smoke: “On the way.”
Smoke: “Zay driving.”
My stomach dropped.
Me: “What you mean Zay driving?”
Smoke: “My license suspended. He offered. Chill.”
Chill?
Chill??
I hadn’t seen Zay in weeks.
Not since that night he left and said nothing.
Not since I blocked the feelings but never quite the memories.
Now I was gonna be stuck in a car with him?
Fucking perfect.
“Lyric. You good?” Janiyah asked, eyebrows raised.
I nodded, gripping the balloon ribbon like it wronged me.
“Zay’s driving us.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
When he pulled up, I felt it before I saw him.
The low hum of his engine.
The deep bass rattling the windows.
The smell of cologne, weed, and dangerous comfort drifting in through the front door.
I followed Janiyah out to the car like I didn’t care.
He leaned against the driver’s side, hoodie on, one hand in his pocket, looking down at his phone.
When he saw me?
A quick glance.
A twitch of his lip.
That same unreadable stare.
“Y’all ready?” he asked, voice calm, cold.
“Yeah,” Janiyah said, throwing her bag in the back.
I climbed in the passenger seat, keeping my eyes straight ahead.
His cologne hit me in the face.
Dior. Sauvage. My weakness.
I said nothing.
Neither did he.
The drive was quiet at first. Just the music — some Bryson Tiller song playing low.
Janiyah kept talking in the backseat, scrolling through her phone, mumbling about cups and chasers and how her lashes weren’t sitting right.
Me?
I stared out the window like it owed me money.
But I felt Zay’s glances.
Felt his eyes linger every time I shifted in my seat.
At the second red light, he finally said it:
“You been good?”
I blinked. Looked over. “I’m straight.”
“Heard you been working a lot.”
“Mhm.”
His jaw flexed.
> “So you ignoring me on purpose or that just how you moving now?”
I laughed under my breath.
“Zay… you ignored me first.”
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t apologize either.
He just kept driving, eyes on the road like the silence between us didn’t say everything already.
We pulled into the first party store and climbed out.
Zay leaned on the car, lighting a blunt while Janiyah went in to look for LED lights and fake vines.
I stood beside the car, arms crossed.
“You look good,” he said after a minute.
I raised a brow. “Didn’t ask.”
He smirked. That annoying, fine-ass smirk that used to make me melt.
“Still got that mouth, huh?”
I looked him dead in the eye.
“Still playing games, huh?”
He blew out smoke, watching it curl in the air.
“Nah. Just waiting on you to stop acting like you don’t miss me.”
“And what if I don’t?”
He stepped a little closer, not touching, just close enough to make my skin react.
“Then I’ll wait ‘til you do.”
And then Janiyah came skipping out, arms full of decorations, shouting something about needing a second stop.
The moment snapped.
Back to normal.
Back to pretending.
But that heat?
Still sitting between us like a promise that hadn’t been kept.
- Writer
