My breath slowly eked out of me. “Uh. Um, okay. Woah. I did not expect that.”
Judging by the wild, wide-eyed look on Malakai’s face, neither did he.
I leaned back to the mic, words eventually making their way to my mouth. “Uh, well, I guess to cap off this momentous occasion we’ll play one of the greatest R&B ballads ever created. About a, um, complicated man who made mistakes he simply wants to make right. It’s about pleading to the woman in your life for forgiveness, for grace. Hold tight for ‘Confessions’ by Usher.”
Malakai snorted and shook his head, immediately looking more relaxed, his eyes softer. I laughed into the mic. “Enjoy, friends, and thank you for spending time with us this evening. This was Gotta Hear Both Sides for Brown Sugar, and I hope everyone got something out of this. I definitely did. I’m K.”
“And I’m Kai.”
“And until next time lovers, stay sweet.”
Chapter 15
My phone was ringing. That was weird. I didn’t even know my phone could ring. I mean, I figured that was part of its functionality in general, and I knew that it rang on Sunday afternoons, which was when my parents liked to check in—after church, before lunch—but outside of those times? Eerie. My little sister preferred texting memes as her primary form of communication.
I was in my room typing up notes at my desk, dim light on, listening to music. It was Thursday, and the corner of my computer screen flashed 10:30 p.m. at me. Definitely not my parents. My dad worked late at the restaurant and my mum went to sleep at ten sharp, rock star that she was. I stuck my hand under my open U.S. Foreign Policy textbook and pulled the phone out from under the avalanche of notes to see Kai’s name and picture flashing at me. Something warm and effervescent rose up in my chest.
It was the day after our second show together. It had been a hit. Aminah was over the moon. Overnight our followers had tripled, and so had our number of listeners. People stopped Malakai and I when we were out on campus, telling us how much they loved it. Even before the show, people were on our social media pages with love-eye emojis under every silly-faced selfie we posted, apparently enamored by the dumb candid videos Malakai filmed and uploaded of me. （Me ordering coffee and him roasting me; us together at Sweetest Ting having a rap debate—according to Meji, Sweetest Ting had also seen a considerable boost in customers since we started tagging our location in our pictures.） Sometimes Malakai filmed our casual conversations or us hanging out on his actual camera, as a just-in-case roll for the film.
Malakai and I had seen each other almost every day in the three weeks since we started the project. We sat together in class, got breakfast almost every morning, and texted throughout our days, but this was the first time Malakai had actually called. I turned the R&B down, slid my thumb across the screen, and put him on speaker phone.
“Kai.”
His voice shot out breathless, something wild. “Alright, who the hell is this Sanasi wave-shifter guy? Is he a darkness agent in disguise? He’s too handsome; I don’t trust him. I mean Niyo is handsome too. ‘Skin like the sun was born at the depth of the ocean, dark and bright and fathomless.’ Jeez. Sanasi’s eyes are described like ice daggers and that can’t mean anything good. Why is he trying to seduce Shangaya while my man Niyo is out risking his life and salvation in a cursed galactic forest, searching for a key so they can live their love in peace? Why is Shangaya flirting back with Sanasi and letting him into the Red Earth courtyard? Sanasi is clearly a Wasteman.”
I blinked as his words configured themselves in my mind. They made sense to me on their own, but they didn’t make sense coming out of his mouth. Was he really quoting a line from my favorite book back to me?
I scratched my forehead and without thinking, explained, “Shangaya thinks Niyo abandoned her for the glory of joining the Winged Forces and she is feeling heartbroken, and when she’s heartbroken she uses anger and vengeance to help heal herself. And I can’t say anything else otherwise I’m gonna spoil— Wait, what is happening?! All this stuff occurs in the second book. How are you on the second book of The Reign of Ifekonia?! When did you even start reading the first book of The Reign of Ifekonia?!”
“I’m hooked, Scotch. This shit is amazing. Why don’t more people know about this?”
“Afrofuturistic fantasy novels? I’m thinking just your run of the mill institutional racism in the publishing industry. But . . . you’re reading it, Malakai?”
“I know. I was shocked that I’m literate too. Yeah, started reading the books so I could see why you liked them so much. I get it now.”