Page 3 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“What’s so funny?” Suchi playfully looks at her with suspicion.
“Aimee picked your outfit, didn’t she?”
“Yep.” Suchi does a twirl.
Aimee’s always telling Suchi that her tits are too perfect not to show them off. As if summoned, Aimee comes out next.
Lyric and Suchi applaud.
She waves them off. “Oh, stop you two.”
“No. You look amazing,” Lyric replies.
“Transcendent,” Suchi agrees.
“Okay! Come on with it, Dr. Smarty pants,” Aimee teases.
They all laugh.
Aimee has naturally curly, dark brown hair, which she’s wearing down and fluffed out. Her soft hazel eyes sparkle behind her glasses as she gives air kisses to Lyric and Suchi. Her outfit is nothing short of divine—a royal blue long-sleeve figure-hugging dress tied at her waist. Aimee is the temptress of their group, as Roc and Pete witnessed firsthand. She’s as sweet as pie, so men never see it coming when it turns out she’s a full-on seductress.
“Seriously, though. You look va-va-voom, dahling. Aimee, where did you get that dress?” Suchi asks.
“The Nordstrom Rack in Culver City. I can usually find some nice brands that are super cheap.”
“Man, I miss bargain hunting. Finding just the right dress or blouse on a sales rack, I miss the rush,” Lyric reminisces.
“Oh, my God! Remember that time when Lyric hustled that lady out of that discounted Gucci purse?” Suchi laughs hard holding her hand to her chest.
“Do I?” Bridget comes out wearing a black cowl neck asymmetric slit dress. “That lady looked shook when Lyric walked away with it.”
“She pronounced Gucci ‘gookie.’ She didn’t deserve it.” Lyric protests. The ladies all crack up. “By the way, Bridge, your thighs are insane!”
“Thanks. Kickboxing has done wonders for my body.” Bridget does a silly catwalk turn.
Lyric is so proud of her girl, because if it had been her, she would have killed Lamar. For the life of her, Lyric doesn’t get why these ashy-ass niggas ask for a baddie when they can’t handle being with one.Lamar Nelson is a piece of shit.Point.Blank.Period. This man, who pursued Bridget relentlessly in college, finally got her, then did a switch up. Two years ago, Lamar told Bridget he was leaving her for another woman.
“You’re picturing Lamar with every strike, aren’t you?” Lyric smiles.
“Every motherfucking time.” Bridget nods. “I just wish I didn’t have any residual anger.”
“Bridge, that man cheated on you for God knows how long and asked you for a divorce…during a party…thrown foryouby your publisher. If you had killed him, it would have been justified. Picturing him when you kick a punching bag isn’t a big deal. You’re doing amazing, sweetie,” Aimee says, imitating Kris Jenner.
“She’s right. You’re in therapy, and you’re working out to help balance your mental health,” Lyric agrees.
“And you are calmer. I remember the night when you shared your plot to murder Lamar and how you’d dispose of his body,” Suchi adds.
“Yeah, that was fucking dark, but impressive. I mean, Bridge, you literally came up with a plan to pull off the perfect murder.” Aimee nods.
“Too bad I was high on edibles. I wish I could remember it,” Bridget says. Lyric and the other ladies give her a look of uncertainty. “Not to do in real life. I’d put it in a book. I could make the next book inTheQueen’s Dilemmaseries a ‘who done it?’ type of mystery mixed with fantasy. Where the reader is solving the crime at the same time Tyberious is.”
“Tyberious is that dude. He’s like, if you took Batman, made him Black and placed him in the fantasy version of the Middle Ages,” Lyric remarks.
“I love the chemistry between him and Queen Miranda.” Suchi swoons.
“Me too. King Rodrick needs to hurry up and die,” Aimee asserts.
“I’ll kill him as soon as you kill Queen Isolde,” Bridget rebuts.
