Page 3 of Ms. V's Hot Girl Summer

Yo! I’d never heard my job described like that. Forget my job description under Animation Talent Expert. I should have used what Seño B said. Now, the rest about Ma, yeah, I was gonna sidestep the hell out of that landmine.

“Cool, well then, you know I can check it later, maybe Monday. I did early submissions, so there is time to accept.”

“Mm-hmm. Alright then, see you around. But if you wanna talk…you know you got people that truly see you, right?”

Yeah, Ms. B was definitely the better comedian out of the two of us ’cause she had jokes for days.

* * *

“Damn, son, why you took so long?” Franco’s loud ass greeted me the moment I entered our favorite spot. Franco sat in a corner, charming smile on full display as he attempted to make eye contact with two ladies at the next table. He kept stroking his chin, and what he thought was a beard, but what we all knew was fuzz. He was lucky his mother gave him some good looks, good melanin, and the best cooking skills ’cause his game was weak otherwise.

“Damn, chill; we didn’t set an exact time.”

“But we did, ugh. I sent it in the group chat. Why am I best friends with guys only?” Grace, our Black pixie queen, lamented next to Franco.

“See, he didn’t accept the invite to the new group chat, babe,” Desmond, my third best friend, said, lounging in the booth, observing Franco’s failed attempts and Grace’s growing exasperation.

“I’m not your babe.” Grace gritted her teeth.

“Not anymore…” Franco and I whispered and guffawed when we realized we said the same thing.

“You’ll always be my babe. Stop playin’.” Desmond winked at Grace, deploying his Dominican and Jamaican charm. The reason why Grace no longer allowed him to call herbabeafter a year of dating. She should have known better, though.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll leave.” Grace shrugged in her cute summer dress that was probably driving Desmond wild. Served him right. Grace was a gift, and he squandered that shit with his lack of communication—to the point he had her believing they were in a nonmonogamous relationship, but he kept getting mad when she was dating other people. She grew tired of all the mixed messages and dropped him. If only he’d been upfront with her…and what he really wanted…shit would have been different.

Now, Grace was dating a nice girl from Manhattan who took her to raves on Fridays and farmer’s markets on Sundays and brought her backpack when she spent the night. And shorty was okay with Grace dating other people, for real. I had never seen Grace happier. Low-key, I was jealous of her, living her life and doing the things she wanted unencumbered by other responsibilities.

Hell, all my friends were living their best lives.

“Quédate, please. I’ll behave,” Desmond said, contrite.

“Good,” Grace said. “Now look at the table that Franco keeps drooling at; that is Gina Star.”

“Oh shit!” I plopped next to Desmond, his grumble loud as I made him scoot.

“Grace, that’s why you mah my main one. I’ve been trying to reach her via social media with no success. She’s mad talented. I really think she would be a good fit at my company.”

“That’s great! Then go ahead and talk to her.”

“Nah, I don’t want to seem like a creep.”

After much cajoling from Grace and getting heat from Desmond and Franco, I approached Gina Star. Gina was an illustrator I’d found on IG with mad potential to make it big. I wanted to bring her to my company and hopefully get her a great contract. After exchanging info, I ambled back to our table when I realized I wouldn’t be at my company long enough to get her a contract if I accepted the admission to law school.

Fuck.

The instant gut punch at the thought of law school took the air out of me.

No use focusing on that pain though; law school was the path to ensure me and mine would be good, regardless of how I felt about it. There was no gain in overthinking it. No gain in trying to figure out other ways.

Sitting back down, I caught the new topic of conversation, attempting to rally after the reminders of what was coming my way.

“So, I booked us all in the hotel that is the closest to the grounds where they do the carnival, and I finished the last deposit for our band spot and costumes, so we ready for Ofele!” Grace explained.

“Oh… I meant to tell you, Grace, I got a house rental instead, so don’t worry about a room for me in the hotel; I… I want to get there early and do some sightseeing.”

“What the fuck for? The town is small and quaint unless it is Caribbean carnival weekend.” Desmond looked at me sideways.

“You know he an old man in a young man body, probably gonna do some of their walking tours and shit,” Franco said between cackles.

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