The Ex Project by Nia Arthurs

Chapter Six

“Thank God,”Yolanda said as she rushed into Giselle’s apartment with a bottle of wine and the limited edition release of JEN-TEN’s latest album. “I couldn’t wait until Sunday.”

“Girl, we got you.” Latoya popped from behind the couch and flashed her a smile. Thick, Siamese twists fell down her shoulders. Her dark skin glistened like she’d rubbed her body with oil, but that was just what happiness and good lighting could do.

Giselle reached forward. “Let me help you with that.”

“Thanks,” Yolanda handed over the heavier item, the wine, to Giselle.

Her friend zoomed past the wine and scooped JEN-TEN’s album into her arms. Rocking the magazine like a child, she cooed, “You’re so beautiful. Yes, you are.”

“Really?” Yolanda scowled at her.

Giselle looked up, innocence in her sparkling brown eyes. “Did you need something?”

Yolanda wielded the wine like a bat. “You’re awful.”

“And you called an emergency meeting.” Giselle took her hand and led her to the couch. They walked past posters of Yenta and Jun. Past the life-sized cutout of Ong Sung-hoon. Past the prized glass cabinet where Giselle stored her K-pop paraphernalia. Past the speedo Giselle won at an international K-pop auction.

Giselle pushed her into a pillow with Yenta’s face on it. “Sit.”

“Are we minor-free?” Yolanda arched an eyebrow. Recently, Malika—Cole’s teenaged sister—had been joining their K-pop sessions.

“She’s doing a group project.” Latoya rolled her obsidian eyes. “Actually, Cole is doing most of the project.”

“Is that allowed?”

“She’ll find a way to get away with it. She’s smart and she knows she has him wrapped around her pinky.”

“And you’re wrapped around his other pinky.” Giselle teased. “Soon, Cole won’t have any working fingers.”

“According to him, the only finger that’s important is the one he’s putting a ring on.” Latoya wiggled the digit in question. “Although that’s not happening right now.”

“You’re ring-blocking him?” Yolanda gasped.

“I’m so busy with my new job, I don’t have time to plan a wedding. Besides, that man is impatient. He’ll want a baby as soon as possible. I want to enjoy dating first.”

“What is with these men and wanting to marry so soon?” Giselle sighed. As if having a boyfriend who was crazily devoted to her was some kind of burden. “I’m not rushing to be tied down.”

“Hello? This is about me?” Yolanda waved.

Giselle laughed. “Sorry.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t want Malika to be here?”

Yolanda nodded. She didn’t want impressionable ears hearing what she had to say.

Latoya set her smiling Jun-themed pillow away from her and leaned forward. Her twists moved too, snaking down to her mini-skirt. “Does this have anything to do with the guy you picked up last week?”

“Whoa, whoa.” Giselle held out a hand. “What is this about a guy?”

“Yolanda had a one-night stand with Tay-Tay’s coach,” Latoya announced.

“Hey!”

“Didn’t you?” Latoya leaned back with a satisfied smirk.

“I would have let her know gently. Gently.”

“Oh,” Latoya popped up again, “I forgot to add an important part. She was so drunk that she doesn’t remember actually doing it with him.”

Giselle’s eyes almost popped out of her face. “He slept with you while you were unconscious?”

Yolanda cringed. “I don’t think I was unconscious at the time.”

“How do you know? You don’t remember!”

Yolanda chewed on her bottom lip. “There’s more.”

“Can it get worse than this?” Giselle shrieked.

“I told my mom that I was dating him. And now she wants him to accompany me to my sister’s gallery.”

This time, both Latoya and Giselle reacted wildly.

Giselle threw a pillow at her. “Girl, shut up!”

“Aren’t we done with the fake-dating storylines?” Latoya railed. “Couldn’t you be a little more original?”

“It just popped out!”

“I can’t believe this.” Giselle climbed to her feet. Her short legs carried her from one end of the cramped living room to the other. “I can’t believe this. You were supposed to be the sane one out of the three of us.”

Yolanda threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. “I know.”

“This could end really well or really badly.”

“I know.”

“There’s no use crying about it.” Latoya jutted her chin. “What do you think? Would the coach be down to playing along?”

Giselle froze. “No, you’re not seriously encouraging her, are you?”

“Why not? If he’s into it, she can go to the gallery with him, satisfy her mom and then say they broke up or something.”

“It’s not that simple,” Giselle argued. “He’s Tay-Tay’s coach.”

Latoya’s eyes shot up. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” Yolanda groaned. “There’s more.”

“Please stop.” Giselle moaned.

“Yesterday, I told him that he should forget about what happened that night…”

“Oof.” Giselle winced.

“… And that I will never get personally involved with anyone in my son’s life…”

“Ouch.” Latoya crouched into a ball.

“… And that I don’t want him to cross the line again.”

Giselle rubbed her forehead briskly.

Latoya blinked in shock. “You’re done for, sis.”

“Does it have to be him? Like… can you hire an actor at the last minute?”

“No. I told my mom who my ‘boyfriend’ was. She knows my son’s football coach. She’s seen videos of Tay-Tay at practice. She’s even gone to one of his friendly matches.”

Giselle plopped into the seat beside Yolanda and gave her a hug. “I don’t know how you’re going to get through this.”

“With wine.” Latoya popped the cork and filled a glass to the top. She handed it to Yolanda and poured an equally ridiculous amount into a cup for herself. “Lots of wine.”

“Girl, hand me the bottle and I’ll chug.”

Giselle swiped the bottle away before Yolanda could nab it. “No, we’re getting through this sober.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve already done enough damage while drunk.”

Yolanda stuck her tongue out at Giselle. Just because her friend was right didn’t mean she had to be so rude about it.

“Why don’t you tell your mom the truth?” Giselle asked, taking the wine glass and drinking a quarter of it.

Yolanda stole the wine back.

“I lied to my mom and told her I was dating West when I wasn’t.” Giselle pointed a finger in her chest. “And Latoya lied to her ex to get back at him…”

“For good reason!”

“We both took the immature, crazy way out.” Giselle blinked. “Why don’t you do the sane thing and just sit your mom down? Tell her you lied and that you’re single. Tell her you don’t want to go on dates with any of her stodgy associates. Tell her that we’ll raise Tay-Tay.” She smacked her chest. “And surround him with plenty of good male mentors.”

Yolanda scrunched her nose. “My mom already thinks I’m a failure at life because I had Devon’s baby. And, frankly, can you blame her for questioning my judgement? That man gets on my last nerves…”

“She’s right. I wouldn’t trust your judgement either,” Latoya mumbled.

Yolanda shot her a dirty look.

“What? Devon sucks.”

“Which is why,” Giselle stressed, “you should tell your mom the truth.”

“I’d rather do the immature thing.”

“Hear, hear!” Latoya raised her glass.

Giselle threw her hands high. “I tried.”

“You did, sweetie.” Latoya rubbed her back. “Here, take this magazine. It’s a picture of Yenta on a bicycle. It’ll calm you.”

Giselle brightened. “Gimme.”

While Giselle lost herself in Yenta’s stunning eyes, Latoya reached over and patted her hand. “Seriously, what are you going to do? Is crawling back to Tay-Tay’s coach really a better option than telling your mom she can’t run your life?”

Yolanda mulled it over.

Nothing in her life was that simple. Especially her relationship with her mother.

“If I go to my mom and admit I lied to her, that I don’t have a boyfriend and I just made it up to get her off my back, she’s going to wrap her arms around me…”

“Go on,” Latoya pressed in.

“… Throw me into a car and threaten to take my inheritance.”

“I thought you’d already gotten access to your inheritance?”

“Yes, but she can cut me off from the rest of it.”

“So,” Latoya raised both hands like a scale, “you either tick your mom off by admitting the truth or you eat humble pie and beg your son’s coach to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Hm.” Giselle rubbed her chin.

“Maybe this will make more sense after listening to the album.” Latoya raised JEN-TEN’s album high.

“Yes.” Yolanda bobbed her head.

Giselle flipped on the TV.

Latoya poured more wine.

They sang the songs they knew by heart, stumbling over the Korean words and butchering everything but the English lyrics. They bumped hips and danced like kids. They laughed at the tips of their voices.

The knot in Yolanda’s chest loosened, as she knew it would. In every other area of her life, she was put-together. Stoic. In control. She let nothing faze her because life had knocked her down enough times that she knew how to take a punch.

But here, with her friends, dancing and singing to K-pop, the world was warm. Gentle, even. It surrounded her in an embrace, a quiet promise that everything would be okay.

Of course, that was a lie.

Everything would not be okay.

But having a moment of peace gave her the courage to face Duane the next day.

He looked surprised to see her marching up to him, but he recovered quickly. His silver eyes darting away from her, he spoke in a polite tone. “Tay-Tay’s on cleaning duty along with Yanique. He’s almost done.”

“You put him on cleaning duty with the guy he fought with?”

“I thought it would be good for them.” Duane turned and stared at the boys who were picking up cones and placing the soccer balls into a yellow hamper.

“He never told me why he fought.”

“He did it to protect you.”

Her eyes widened and she forgot she was supposed to keep him at a distance. Stepping closer, she asked, “Did Tay-Tay talk to you?”

“He did.” Duane lifted a hand when she opened her mouth to question him. “But I won’t say anything because I won’t betray his confidence.”

“I’m his mother,” she argued.

“And that’s why I told you what I did.” From the stubborn set of his jaw, she knew he wouldn’t budge on it.

She backed off, not because she wanted to but because she needed his help. Besides, she could pry the truth out of him eventually.

Keeping her hands at her sides, she faced him bravely. “I have a favor to ask.”

“What kind of favor?”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Duane peered at her as if she’d lost her mind.

Maybe she had.

Come on, Yolanda.

She darted a look at her son again and saw that he and Yanique were almost finished picking up the gear. The gala was tomorrow. She had no choice.

It was now or never.

“Yolanda?”

“Can you forget what I said a few days ago?”

His eyebrows jumped.

“I need you to cross the line again.”

“What?”

“I need a fake boyfriend.” Her eyes slid over his. “And I want it to be you.”