I shook my head, my anger cooling to discomfort. “Adwoa, this is bullshit. For sure. But you know Brown Sugar isn’t about that. I don’t do politics. There has to be another way to stop this.”
Adwoa’s eyes scanned me in confusion, as if she couldn’t compute what I was saying. “Yeah. There probably is. But you’re the best way, Kiki. You have the visibility. You’re the only person Zack even pretends to listen to. What are you scared of?”
Lack of control. My life was clearly demarcated and I didn’t need anything to make it messy. I didn’t need to get into a political feud with a guy I was trying to distance myself from and who had ammunition against me. If people knew we had hooked up it would discredit me completely, and I’d only just got a handle on the situation with Malakai. I couldn’t afford exposure that would affect the show’s growth.
“Look, Adwoa, if you start a petition or get someone else to, I will happily support and amplify. But Brown Sugar as a space has to remain neutral. I’m sorry.”
Adwoa rolled her tongue in her mouth and nodded slowly, sliding the flyers off the desk. “Yeah, so am I.”
She was disappointed in me and it stung. This was why I worked hard to have precisely one friend. Adwoa somehow slipped through the net and now I was paying the price with this awful feeling in my stomach. “See you in class?”
Adwoa gave me a weak smile and salute, then walked away.
Brown Sugar Show: Archives
Hi guys,
It’s your girl, K, and yes, it’s that time again where I break down my advice on how to maneuver yourselves around mandem. Now, I don’t know if you lot know this, but I actually have a Ph.D. in fuckboiology. Yes, I, Kiki Banjo, am a doctor of this particular field of science, and I have taken it upon myself to do a quick tutorial on a phenomenon we all may be familiar with, but perhaps don’t quite know the mechanics of: “The Talk.” This is where you discuss the parameters of your relationship.
First, construction is key. The less, the better. Many people make the mistake of overloading with emojis, bulking to compensate for confidence. Trust yourself and believe in your sauce. You don’t need extra dressing. You’re a snack, a whole meal and the offer of your company is a gift—your presence is a present and they can kiss your ass if they don’t appreciate it, to paraphrase a well-known scholar.
Second, be direct. Take control of the situation so your target has little space to manipulate it. “You free in an hour?” is different from “You free to talk in an hour?” The latter is powerful—you’re coming from a position of strength. This is about your desire. “You free in an hour?” comes from a place of need that most boys love to play with. “You free in an hour?” could lead to a “Maybe,” which might lead to a “What you mean maybe? You don’t want to talk?” and then he says, “About what?” A mess. We want to avoid that. Go in incisively. Don’t let these boys run you mad, my sisters.
Once you’re talking, be clear about what you want. If that’s a relationship, be honest. If it’s something else, be clear about that too. You’re not going into this for negotiation, you’re going into this for clarification. If he finds your terms unreasonable, that’s absolutely fine, it means he clearly is not the one for you.
Finally, sisters, go forth with the knowledge that you are the shit and you’re not about to take shit. Whether he wants a relationship with you or not, that still stands.
Thank you for spending time with me this evening, it’s been a pleasure and, until next time, stay sweet.
Yours always,
K.
I pounded my fist against Aminah’s door furiously. “Aminah! Wake up!! 999!!!”
Aminah opened her room door, bare faced, hair wrapped in a silk scarf, and eyes wide as she wrapped her fluffy dressing grown around herself. “Ah ah! What happened? Did Beyoncé drop an album?!”
“No! This is a bad 999!” I shoved my phone in Aminah’s face, and her confusion melted into a slow smirk as she scanned the screen, reading the text out loud: “You about?”
Aminah’s smile widened. She leaned against her door frame, took my phone, and peered closer at the text as if it could reveal more to her upon further inspection, eyes flashing wickedly. “Malakai really sent you a ‘You up?’ text. Spicy!”
I’d been careful in keeping it strictly business in my first message and Malakai just jumped in with a “You up?” text? Seemed pretty brazen to me. I couldn’t understand why Aminah didn’t comprehend how bizarre this situation was. She was smiling entirely too much and assiduously ignoring the fact that I was freaking out. The fact that her grin kept getting increasingly wider implied that she was enjoying me freaking out.