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‘Black Brits,’ I say.

‘Millennials,’ Chioma adds.

‘Men,’ Laide finishes. ‘I say we peek.’

‘Why?’ I turn to my girls in grave disappointment. ‘I have to say, guys, this whole situation is not passing the Bechdel test.’

Chioma shrugs. ‘I mean it’s a bachelorette for a marriage between two cishet people. I just feel like this whole situation innately doesn’t pass the Bechdel test so why not just lean into it. And by lean in I mean check if the guys next door are fine. Let’s introduce ourselves.’

Shanti pumps a fist. ‘Yes! I love it when Chi Chi Baby is dragged to my level!’ I can’t believe I’ve lost my usually dependable ally.

I turn to the main girl herself for salvation. ‘OK, well, I don’t think Aminah wants to hang out with a bunch of strange men—’

‘Actually. . .’ Aminah’s voice surprises me, and I turn to her incredulously. ‘Why not? I meanhang outis a stretch. We can just go look and see before going out. It’ll be fun for the girls, and, also, it’s a story.’

‘Astory,’I repeat, dumbfounded. This is maybe the third time in the trip I’ve been convinced that my best friend has been body swapped.

Aminah’s shoulder twitches. ‘Yeah. Like an adventure.’ Before I have time to question what she means by that Laide squeals and jumps on her sister, hugging her tight. ‘Ugh, Iknewmy fun genes would jump out in my baby sis at some point. I’ve waited my whole life for this! Shotgun the finest one!’

Chapter 17

Dummies Guide to Catching Clouds:Must Use Salt

‘I just want it on record–’ I hesitate in pressing the bell for the third time–‘that I think this is a terrible idea—wait, are they playing “Int’l Players Anthem”?’

‘See! They have taste!’ Shanti says as the ocean breeze picks up. ‘Can you hurry? My buzz is wearing off! It’s getting chilly.’ She stamps on the ground theatrically and wraps arms round her torso, covered by tight slashes of fabric.

Aminah nudges me. ‘Come on! It’ll be fun, Keeks!’

Well, far be it from me to be the party pooper, even though we don’t know exactly how many men are in this house and I havegraveconcerns about them knowing that there is a group of women in the house next to them.

‘Aminah, do you still remember our moves from our Get ’Em Bodied MMA class?’

Aminah punches the air. ‘Hit ’em in the neck with someDivachoreo!’

‘Also,’ Laide says, ‘I have pepper spray in my clutch. It’s legal here. I know a guy.’

I frown, confused by the implications of her statement. ‘Well, which one is it? Is it legal or do you “know” a guy?’

‘We won’t need it,’ Chioma chirps reassuringly. ‘I did a blessing of protection for us on this trip.’

‘Ugh, I thought I smelled sage coming from your room, Chioma,’ Shanti says, whipping out a perfume tester from her silver clutch and spraying it on both her and Chi. ‘Could you refrain? Gonna have my hair stinking of one of your spells.’

‘Anyway,’ I say to put an end to the squabbling, ‘I know the number of the local police and I told my little sister to text me in thirty minutes. I told her if I don’t respond she needs to call Taré, but now that I think about it maybe I shouldn’t have given my little sister the number of a celebrity—’

‘One of the things I love most about you is how chill you are,’ Shanti offers wryly.

‘OK, well, excuse me for not wanting to be true-crime podcast fodder.’

‘Don’t worry, we won’t. You know they only make them about white women.’

‘Thanks, Shanti, super comforting as always.’ I roll my eyes, press the bell and the girls squeal like we’re twelve. A strange thrill skips through me. I have to admit there’s a sense of freedom that comes with throwing caution to the Capetonian winds. Also, technically, I’m single. I mean Iamsingle. I’m single, and I look great, and I got the African sun-glow on me and on the other side of the door there may be a headache of men from which I can take my pick. Well, everyone but the hottest one that Laide has laid claim to. The promise tickles at me. For the first time in months, I am Malakai Korede-free, and stress free, with a sexy night of promise potentially about to unfurl before me. A tall figure approaches the hazy panel in the door, and my belly trills. Is it possible for a silhouette to be hot? The silhouette is hot. Aminah was right, this isexciting.I could be Stella, about to get her groove back.The door swings open, and the Hot Silhouette becomes flesh. . .and taut muscle and a beautiful face that becomes slack in shock at the sight of me.No.

‘You know what’s mad?’ Malakai says when he recovers, with a sloping smile. ‘I swore I recognised you.’

‘Yousawme?’

‘Well. Not your face.’