Page 68 of My Only

I nodded. “The whole thing.”

“Now, baby.” She pointed at me. “You were supposed to lead with that. That’s huge.”

“Enormous,” I agreed, scoffing with a laugh. “Bryant Greene even hosted an event for the project over the summer at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

Jaws dropped.

“It was…” I sighed, shaking my head at the memory. “Beyond anything I’ve ever been to. That’s when I really understood how big of a deal this was.”

“Well then,…” Vivian said, waving a dismissive hand, “him being late makes sense, child. That’s amazing, Ayla. Absolutely amazing.”

Everyone nodded and murmured in agreement.

Vivian laid a hand over mine. “When you see him, you let him know I am very, very proud of him. So proud. Wow.”

My heart swelled. “Well, when he gets here—if he gets here on time—you can tell him yourself.”

Vivian smirked. “That man is busy literally building a village. He don’t need to be here tonight.”

I playfully rolled my eyes.

“What he needs to do,” she continued, “is tell me how I can get a house over there, ‘cause Lord knows I’m about sick and tired of this city.”

“You say that every year, Viv,” another teacher passing by chimed in.

“And I mean it every year,” Vivian shot back. “Things are getting so damn ridiculous and expensive in this city. Do you know how much money I had to drop on…”

And just like that, she was off, pulled into another conversation.

I took the opportunity to check my phone again.

Still nothing.

I tapped on my messages, ready to text Hassani, when I heard a quiet hmph from beside me.

“First, they start missing little things like this,” Janae spoke under her breath, her head propped in her hand. “Then, suddenly, they’re too busy for everything.”

It was like she had pulled a thought straight from my head and spoken it into existence.

My gut reacted before I could.

I turned to her, forcing a smile as I bumped her shoulder. “Now, Janae,” I said, trying to keep things light. “Don’t get back in the mood I just pulled you out of. Come on now.”

She chuckled, shaking her head, but her expression didn’t fully lift.

“All I’m saying is…” She popped a saltine cracker into her mouth, her voice quieter this time. “Watch the patterns, boo.”

I stared at her for a moment, realizing too late that I’d been holding my breath.

Her words stung. More than I wanted to admit.

Because ever since the start of the year, everything had shifted.

Hassani and I had our routines. We had our life before the Greene Gardens Project. And the second he signed on as their principal architect, everything changed—fast. So fast my head was still spinning, trying to keep up.

I couldn’t wait for the school year to start again, just so I could have something—anything—to ground me.

Then, my phone buzzed in my hand.

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