27.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

I was deep in my sleep, wrapped up tight in my blankets, when suddenly—BAM BAM BAM.

"Get up, Monkey!"

I groaned, burying my face deeper into my pillow. "Go 'way, Ren..."

But of course, she wasn't going anywhere.

Next thing I knew, my blankets were snatched clean off me, and I was hit with the cold air of the penthouse.

"Ren!" I whined, curling into a ball.

Ren stood over me, arms crossed, looking every bit like a drill sergeant. "What I tell you about skipping school?"

"I'm not skipping," I mumbled. "I just need a day off."

She sucked her teeth. "Girl, please. It's your career day, you ain't missin' that."

My brain took a second to process her words.

Then it hit me.

Career day.

I jumped outta bed so fast I damn near knocked Ren over.

"Ayy, back up!" she laughed, catching herself as I pushed past her to get to my closet.

"Why ain't you say that first?!" I yelled, already digging for an outfit.

"I did, dummy!"

I ignored her, too busy pulling clothes out and throwing them on my bed. Today was important. Career day meant a whole day of people coming in to talk about real jobs, real careers—real futures. I was excited.

Ren leaned against the doorway, watching me with a smirk. "Mm-hmm. Now you wanna move quick."

I stuck my tongue out at her and pulled my hoodie over my head.

I could hear her laughing as she walked away, calling out, "Hurry up, Monkey! You got twenty minutes before we head out!"

I took my time getting ready, making sure my outfit was on point, my edges laid, and my lip gloss popping. If I was gonna see my man, my man, my man, I had to be cute.

I stepped out of my room feeling myself, ready to face the day, and the first thing I saw was Ren posted up in the kitchen, looking all nonchalant with a damn Poptart in her hand.

"For you," she said, tossing it to me.

I grinned, catching it with ease.

"Somebody feelin' generous today," I teased, tearing the wrapper open.

She shrugged, licking her lips. "Gotta keep you from gettin' hangry."

I hummed, chewing on a bite of my Poptart before lifting my hand and running my fingers over her fresh lineup. The crispness of the cut made me smile—Bari really got her right yesterday.

But then, my fingers slid up to the top of her head, and I sighed, flattening out some of her retwist.

"Ren, I swear to God," I muttered, giving her scalp a little smack.

"The fuck?" she laughed, pulling back.

"You need to put a damn durag on when you sleep!" I scolded, shaking my head. "Ain't no way you let Bari get you this clean just to go lay down reckless like that."

She smirked, rubbing the back of her head. "I did put it on."

"Yeah, for how long?" I shot back, folding my arms. "Bet you took it off halfway through the night."

She just chuckled, not even bothering to deny it.

I sucked my teeth. "Mmm-hmm, exactly."

She watched me with amusement as I finished my Poptart, then leaned in, bumping her shoulder against mine. "You done fussin' at me now?"

"For now," I said, smiling. "Lemme go say bye to Nanny."

Ren nodded, already grabbing her keys as I ran back to Nanny's room.

I peeked my head in and found her sitting up in bed, sipping the tea Ren made her earlier.

"You look pretty, baby," she said with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Nanny," I beamed, walking over to kiss her cheek. "We're heading out."

"Okay, be good," she said, giving me a knowing look.

I giggled, knowing exactly what she meant.

I ran back out to Ren, and she tilted her head toward the door. "You ready?"

"Been ready," I said, sliding my phone into my bag.

We headed out, and as soon as we hit the elevator, I leaned against the wall, grinning up at Ren.

"Don't be mad if my man act up today," I teased.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Girl, hurry up and get in the car."

I laughed, hopping in the passenger seat as Ren started the engine.

Being here with Ren was the highlight of my whole life. Every morning that I woke up in New York, every time I looked around this penthouse and remembered that we were free, that we were safe, it was like a dream I never wanted to end. The psychological problems of dealing with an abusive mother and a messed-up childhood hadn't hit me yet, so right now? I was chillin'.

Ren interrupted my thoughts as she pulled into the school parking lot, her voice smooth and teasing.

"You really snapped on this retwist, monkey," she said, tilting her head slightly, admiring herself in the rearview mirror.

I smirked, flicking my wrist dramatically. "I know," I said, tossing my braids over my shoulder.

Ren chuckled, turning the car off. "Cocky ass."

I just grinned, then leaned over and wrapped my arms around her. She stiffened for a second like she always did—Ren wasn't used to too much affection—but then she relaxed, wrapping one arm around me, squeezing me tight.

"Love you, Ren," I mumbled against her shoulder.

She exhaled, rubbing my back. "Love you too, Monkey. Now go act like you got some sense in here."

I giggled, pulling away before grabbing my bag and stepping out of the car. As soon as I did, I was greeted with love from all my peoples.

"ZURI!"

"Ayy, it's my girl!"

"Miss Foreign and Fine has arrived!"

I smirked, strutting towards the front entrance like I was walking down a runway, dapping up my boys and hugging my girls. Being the foreign kid with a sexy-ass Louisiana accent? Yeah, that definitely had its perks.

The boys swore I was the baddest thing walking, and the girls loved me because I was sweet and knew how to braid and do lashes. The teachers? They mostly let me rock because I was smart enough to keep my grades decent, and I always had a way with words when I needed to get out of trouble.

"Girl, who did your hair?" one of my homegirls, Nia, asked, tugging lightly on one of my braids.

"Me, duh," I said, flipping the end of it over my shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. "Nah, 'cause you be lying! You do hair like this and still ain't tryna take no clients?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "I keep tellin' y'all, I ain't got time for all that. Ren be workin' me like a damn drill sergeant at home."

"You lucky you live with her," one of my boys, Trey, said, shaking his head. "You know how many people at this school be tryna figure out who she is? Whole school wanna know about the mystery Benz driver that be droppin' you off every morning."

I smirked, shrugging. "Y'all gon' stay curious, too."

They groaned, and I just laughed, dapping up a few more people before heading inside.

We loaded onto the bus, and I immediately made my way to my man, sliding into the seat beside him like I owned the place. The second I sat down, he threw his arm over my shoulders, pulling me in close like we was in a damn movie.

"Missed you," he muttered, lips brushing my ear.

I smirked, tilting my head up to look at him. "Boy, please," I teased. "You just seen me yesterday."

"And? That was too long ago," he said, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

I giggled, glancing around to make sure none of the teachers were watching before I kissed him right back. We weren't supposed to be doing all that, but I didn't care. The whole ride, we were stealing kisses whenever we thought nobody was looking—his lips barely brushing mine when the bus hit a bump, his fingers sliding over my jaw like he just had to touch me. Every time I pulled away, he would chase after me, stealing just one more before smirking like he got away with something.

"You tryna get me caught up," I whispered, poking his side.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, I just can't help myself. You look too damn good."

I bit my lip, feeling my cheeks heat up. My man was eating me up with his eyes, and I was loving every second of it.

By the time we pulled up to the career fair, I was already in a good mood. Ren said this was supposed to be about my future and making connections or whatever—but if we being honest? I was just here to look cute and be up under my man.

When we got off the bus, one of my homegirls nudged me with excitement.

"They got a celebrity guest today," she said, grinning.

I raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Yanna Hill."

The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. I shrugged, figuring she was just another influencer or actress I had scrolled past online. I wasn't really into keeping up with celebs like that.

We made our way through the crowd to where she was speaking, and the second I laid eyes on her, my brain stalled.

She was pretty. Not just regular pretty—soft, delicate, but with this quiet confidence that made people pay attention. Her curls framed her face perfectly, and her big, expressive eyes held something deep, like she was always lost in thought.

I squinted, trying to place where I knew her from. Something about her was tugging at my memory, but I just couldn't figure it out.

I shrugged it off, deciding it wasn't that deep. If I couldn't remember, then it probably didn't matter.

Instead, I went to get some food with my friends, laughing and joking as we grabbed our trays. The school had stepped up for career day, actually bringing in some decent catering, so I wasn't about to miss out. After we ate, I made my way back inside, my excitement buzzing again as I headed straight to the hair booth. That's what I really came here for.

When I got there, two women were already at the station—one of them was that Yanna girl, and the other looked like she worked in the industry, maybe a hairstylist or business owner.

I walked up with a confident smile. "Hey, I'm Zuri Allen," I introduced myself, sticking my hand out for a shake. "I have a passion for hair."

The second I said my name, Yanna's entire expression twisted—her lips parted slightly, her brows furrowed, and something flickered in her eyes, something intense.

For a second, I blinked, confused. Did I say something wrong?

She thought I was ugly or something?

I swallowed, my confidence faltering just a little. I had met a lot of people in my life, some stuck-up, some nice, some fake as hell, but I had never seen a reaction like that before. It was like my name physically hit her.

I stood there for a second, waiting for her to say something, but she just stared at me.

I hesitated for a second, feeling the tension radiating off Yanna like a heatwave. The look on her face had me confused as hell.

"...Uh," I muttered, glancing at the older woman beside her for some type of normalcy.

She cleared her throat and gave me a polite smile, trying to ease whatever weird energy just hit the booth. "Do you have any work you can show us?" she asked.

That was something I could focus on. I nodded quickly and pulled out my phone, flipping through my gallery. "Yeah, for sure. I just retwisted my sister homeboy Bari's hair last week," I said, showing a crisp, freshly done set of twists. Then I swiped again. "And this is my nanny. I gave her a beehive. She's old-school and loves this kinda style."

The older woman nodded, clearly impressed, but my eyes kept flickering to Yanna, who was still watching me hard. Like she was trying to burn a hole through my phone screen with her stare.

I swiped a few more times, showing off different styles I had done on my own hair, then—finally—I got to my most recent work: Ren's hair.

The second the picture popped up, Yanna's whole body locked up.

Her eyes went wide, her breathing hitched, and she suddenly looked like she was having a damn stroke.

Her voice was shaky when she spoke. "Is that... Ren?"

I frowned, now feeling really weird. Why was she acting like that?

I narrowed my eyes, my instinct kicking in. "What, you the feds or something?" I asked, slipping my phone back into my pocket.

Yanna barely blinked. Her eyes stayed glued to me, her mind clearly racing a mile a minute. "Can you step into the hall with me?" she asked, her voice urgent.

I crossed my arms, leaning back slightly. "Stranger danger."

She sighed, like she was getting frustrated but trying not to show it. "Please."

Something about the way she said it made me pause. She wasn't just being weird—she was desperate.

I let out a deep sigh, glancing around before finally giving in. "Aight, whatever."

Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I followed her out, still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.