Page 47 of Certified Pressure
I heard Toni scoff, then saw her roll her eyes so hard it almost flipped her damn lashes off. She mumbled somethin’ under her breath and stabbed her fork into her greens.
“Y’all good?” I asked, not lookin’ at either one of ‘em.
“I’m fine,” Toni said, loud enough for everybody to hear. “I just don’t like when recycled energy start gettin’ brand new.”
Chanel smirked and went back to her seat like she won that round.
By the time I finished my plate, I leaned back and wiped my mouth, feelin’ full and halfway amused. Ariyah Skye stood up from her spot and walked over to take my dishes like it was second nature.
Everything was flowin’. The food was good, the energy was cool, and the women had finally stopped actin’ like this was a damn audition and started relaxin’ into who they really were.
Then, outta nowhere, shit went left.
I heard a weird cough. It was short at first, then a second one that sounded off. I looked down the table and saw ZaniyahStarr holdin’ her throat with one hand, her eyes blinkin’ fast like she couldn’t focus. She knocked her water glass over tryin’ to grab it, and then her whole body jerked once before she slumped forward.
“What the fuck—” Kashmere started to say, but Renae was already jumpin’ out her seat.
“Zaniyah?” Toni called out, but Zaniyah didn’t answer.
I stood up quick as hell, my chair scratchin’ across the floor as I moved around the table. A few of the girls screamed and rushed toward her, but I got there first. Her lips was already startin’ to swell, and she was gaspin’ hard, strugglin’ to breathe.
“Move back,” I said, my voice firm. “Give her room.”
She was tremblin’, her body leanin’ sideways like she couldn’t hold herself up no more. Chanel dropped to her knees next to her and tried to hold her steady, but her whole body was goin’ limp.
“What the fuck did she eat?” I asked as my eyes scanned the table.
“She had the crab cakes, I think,” Kay’Lo said. “And the risotto too.”
“Yeah, she did,” Chanel added, pointin’ toward her plate. “She grabbed one earlier off that smaller platter.”
My jaw clenched and I looked back down at her. Her throat was closin’ up fast, her skin turnin’ blotchy, and I knew right then that if we didn’t move quick, this wasn’t gon’ be no small scare.
This girl was about to die.
Trill-Land, Jungle Estate
“She’s having an allergic reaction to something!” I blurted as I jumped up from my chair, pretending to panic right along with the rest of them.
Zaniyah was laid out across the floor, her eyes wide, gasping for air with one hand clawing at her throat while the other tried to hold herself up. Her lips were swelling fast, and her skin had turned a blotchy red. You could hear the scratch in her throat every time she tried to breathe. Most of the women were frozen, staring in shock, and Pressure was already kneeling beside her, his voice booming through the dining room.
“Move! Everybody move back!”
I stayed close though, because I knew what was coming next. Ineededto be the one to save her. I had planned this momentdown to the minute, and I wasn’t about to let anybody else take credit for it. I knew she was allergic to pistachios because she ran her mouth too much. She told me one night while she was oiling her legs and complaining about how the chefs better not use nut oils in the kitchen. She said she carried an EpiPen in her bag just in case. I smiled at her, nodded like I cared, then made a mental note of it.
I didn’t know what it was about Pressure that made me this way, but the second I found out I made the cut for the Diamonds, it felt like fate. I’d been watching him for years—every picture, every caption, every story he posted. I knew what kind of jeans he liked. I knew he hated overly filtered women. I knew his mother wore perfume with jasmine in it and that he always posted her on Sundays. I’d memorized everything. I just needed a way to stand out. I needed him to see me as valuable, and not some bitch crying or begging for a rose. I had toearnmy spot. And if that meant letting Zaniyah’s throat close up for a second or two? So be it.
“She got an EpiPen!” I shouted. “It’s in her purse—upstairs in our room. I’ll go get it!”
“Run!” Pressure barked, not even looking at me as he focused on keeping her steady. “Go now!”
I took off, but I wasn’t running like no crazy person. I paced myself, smooth and careful not to trip or look frantic. I had to make sure the timing lined up. I needed her close to slipping into death before I brought her back.
Once I got upstairs, I walked in our room and closed the door behind me. Her purse was right there on the bottom bunk where she always kept it. After I unzipped it, I didn’t even have to dig for it. Her EpiPen was tucked in a small velvet pouch next to her allergy meds and lip gloss. I grabbed it and stood there for a second, staring at it. This little thing could bring her back from the brink of death.
I wondered if she’d remember my face when she came back to. If she’d thank me or cry. Honestly, I didn’t care either way. The only person I wanted watching was Pressure.
By the time I got back downstairs, things were worse. Zaniyah was barely moving now. Her lips were swollen so bad it didn’t even look like her face. Pressure looked up the seconds saw me.
