Page 34

Age 24

I don’t know how many drinks she’s had. I’ve been posted up on the wall, just watching her knock them back one after the other.

We talked about this. She said she’d slow down.

Then I see why she’s going so hard. This nigga Cochise comes up, giving her another drink. He whispers some tired ass line in her ear that’s got her blushing before he disappears. Prolly to get whoever’s driving them so he can stamp her.

I see the way he looks at her in some sessions. I guess tonight he finally grew some balls.

Wyn knocks her drink back before I can get to her. Her face is flushed, and though the smile spreading on her face is dazzling, it’s still all wrong.

“I’m taking you home.”

I don’t wait for her to reply before grabbing her wrist and dragging her out the party.

We’re in Northupton, in some neighborhood neither one of us could afford, and I didn’t drive in case I’d be drinking, but I’m getting her out of here, and maybe into a detox program.

The cool air kisses my face. Damn it was hot in there.

Wyn twists out of my grip, making me turn around. Her face is pinched, and she folds her arms as she stumbles, trying to switch her weight to her other foot.

“I’m not leaving with you. I got plans.”

“You drunk off your ass and you out yo rabid ass mind if you think I’m letting you leave with that nigga.”

Wyn snorts, and with that wicked gleam in her eye, I know she’s about to try to cut me down.

But for once, I’m ready for that shit. I’ll give it as good as I’ll take it.

She takes a step toward me, invading my space.

“You think you’re so different from these other niggas, but you’re not. I see the way you look at me. You wanna taste just like everyone else, but you disguise it as wanting to save me. Poor Wynter. Something’s gotta be wrong because I like to party. And you’re just the man to fix it right?”

“You so used to niggas doing anything for that trash box of yours, you think a nigga that wants better for you wants to fuck. Get the fuck over yourself, Wynter. I’ve known you too long to let you go out like this.”

“Nigga you might be fooling yourself, but you ain’t fooling me. You trying to put on your cape and tell me I deserve better, then what? The better being you?”

She gets in my face, as much as her sky high stilettos let her, and points an equally sharp finger at me.

“I already had the better Washington brother. So I’m good. Get rid of this lame ass crush you have on me, and stop trying to snatch up your brother’s sloppy seconds. Newsflash; you can dress like him, act like him, and even try to fuck the same bitches, but you’ll never be Set.”

I snatch her finger out of my face, crushing it in my grip.

“You’re a fucking waste of space. A ran through piece of pussy I wouldn’t even give to my lil homies. The coke and tequila really made your brain swiss cheese, or maybe them implants leaking into your bloodstream, but hear me when I tell you: I. Don’t. Want. You. And now? I don’t give a fuck about you. You wanna die? Go die then. Maybe your insurance money can go to Autumn, and you can finally say you did something positive for her. Go on. Go fuck that nigga, and OD while you’re at it. This time I won’t try to save you.”

I let go of her as tears pool in her lids, but her face is still in a stubborn scowl.

“I’ve never asked you to save me .”

Cochise comes out of the party and calls Wynter’s name.

She turns her body toward him, while still glaring at me.

“And I never will.”

Her whisper fades into the night before she’s walking away from me, sliding into Cochise’s waiting arms. He lifts his chin to me, walking behind another one of his labelmates. Wyn doesn’t look back as they walk down the street.

Fuck it. I pull out my phone and order a rideshare.

She said what she said. She doesn’t want me to save her? So I won’t.