Free Pop Singer: A Dark BWAM / AMBW Romance by Asia Olanna Page A

impossible.
     
    ♦♦♦
     
    Latasha licked her lips. Kimchi still stuck to her chin. I wiped some off with a napkin, leaning across the table, smiling. “You’ve got some there,” I said. I giggled, and then twisted my wrist to the left of her nose. “And somehow you’ve got some there too.”
     
    “This food is difficult to eat,” she said. I laughed now. Difficult to eat? What?
     
    “You’re just silly sometimes.”
     
    Latasha pushed away her plate, smacking her lips. “I guess it was okay in the end. Nothing I would come to Korea for.”
     
    I tried shushing her. I was so embarrassed. This was not supposed to be happening on my day.
     
    Notice how I say, “My Day.” Because it was just before I was about to leave for Korea. And here this girl was yapping off her mouth.
     
    Frenemies!
     
    Maybe it was a good thing it was my last day in the United States. I would never have to come back to the restaurant and embarrass myself again for another bowl.
     
    “Please stop saying that kind of stuff,” I said. “Can you imagine if people said that about us? You would find it extremely offensive.”
     
    Latasha waved her hand. “It’s fine,” she said. “I won’t say any more. I won’t say any more.”
     
    I figured Latasha’s behavior was the same reason why I was not so excited about her going to Wall Street. She had a strange sense of ambivalence. Again and again. She wanted me to go, and she could be happy on one side. But then on the other side, she was jealous, furiously so. She wanted me to fail, to flop on my face.
     
    A difficult mentality to understand. But we only had each other. We were the only friends we knew.
     
    You’re probably wondering why I didn’t have anyone else besides Latasha in my life at the time.
     
    Thing is, post-college life can be really difficult.
     
    Making friends in a new city? Nearly impossible, unless you’re very gregarious and love to be around people all the time.
     
    I’ve always been sort of an introvert, and back then, I was no different.
     
    I liked to stay home and just relax in my room with a novel, or maybe a good Korean music video, or maybe even a couple of Asian men and black women erotica.
     
    I’m just saying, I didn’t like going out so much. And we had a history together.
     
    Plus, I wouldn’t have to see her for a long time. If she ever did manage to leave the United States for someplace else, then I would go and visit her.
     
    But if I left and never came back—and never saw her—then it was no sweat off my back. I would just say, well, sorry. Goodbye for now, honey.
     
    As we walked out of the Korean restaurant, she and I got into her convertible. Sometimes she thought I was using her for transportation. So I comped her for gas every once in a while. That day I did, like usual, but she held onto my hand as I gave her the money. We sat at the front of her convertible, just staring at one another.
     
    Her eyes watered up, and she leaned forward against my shoulder. “I’m no lesbian,” she said, “but I do love you girl.”
     
    I raised my eyebrows. I couldn’t tell if she was being a manipulative bitch or if she was being serious. Sometimes it was hard to tell with other women. Not that women couldn’t be friends.
     
    Hard to tell. Hard to tell.
     
    But she cried. She really cried. And I had all of the world’s empathy for her. I held her, rocking her back and forth. “You can miss me, girl, but that’s no way to treat the staff’s food. To treat another culture.”
     
    “I know you went through the same thing,” Latasha said. “Girl, having you move away. That’s like… I’m going to lose another friend. I’m going to lose another piece of Nebraska State. You’re going all the way across the world. I know I’ve been really aloof and not so kind. It’s just me being immature. And I’m sorry about that. I really am. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m hurting at the same time.”
     
    I held her