Black Girl Magic

Chapter 18

The next morning wasn't quite as brutal with training, but it still wore her out. Now that the elders knew she had a better grip on her powers, they pushed her harder than ever. She was passed between elders like a volleyball, each wanting to teach her their specialty and make sure she had it down pact.

The others were being trained hard as well, and the focus on teamwork was at an all-time high. Even though they didn't all get along well, they were trying their best for the sake of staying alive. Naamah wouldn't care about who liked who or vice versa. She would still kill them all the same. The fact that she was willing to kill her own son meant that any of them could and would be struck down without a second thought.

Every weekend brought a new challenge that we were facing off against in our training. The balancing act was beginning to wear on all of us. I was juggling dating, school, training, extra training, college applications, preparing for prom and graduation, and just the everyday nonsense that came with being a teenager in high school. I was beyond exhausted.

Time moved quickly; before I knew it, it was March, the weather was warming, and we were pushing ever closer to the end of our high school days. It would have been bittersweet moments if I wasn't caught up in the whirlwind that was my mother and Stella. They had been beyond thrilled since I had agreed to do the whole prom song and dance. Every moment was a discussion of colors, shoes, hair, and accessories; even my underwear was under scrutiny. However, I couldn't bear to take away my mom's enthusiasm. I knew she was so excited for me because she never thought she could convince me to go. And honestly, not that I would admit it to her or Stella, I was pretty excited myself.

Armand and I were practically inseparable. I still got butterflies every time I saw him. His voice over the phone was the best thing after a long stressful day at school, and he invaded my thoughts every other moment we were not together. I constantly told myself and anyone else that would listen that it was the honeymoon stage and trying to act overly casual when it came to him, but my heart told the truth when we were alone.

We could sit for hours and never get enough of each other; there were never enough words, enough kisses, enough touches, enough whispers, enough time. Sometimes I felt that I wanted to crawl into this man's skin and be with him always and then scold myself internally for being such a corny girl. But despite all my scolding, I knew it was inevitable...I was falling...hard....and I had no idea what I was going to do about it.

The second weekend in March, I begrudgingly joined my mom, Stella, and her mom Ms. Jackson to get measured for prom dresses. Having joined forces to make sure their daughters would be beautiful for prom, they arranged for our dresses to be made instead of just buying them from the store. Stella was thrilled that she would get a perfectly unique dress designed for her style. I was less enthusiastic only because my ideas of dresses were lacking.

My mom had gotten a recommendation from one of her friends of a seamstress that made fabulous dresses. After looking through her things briefly, she quickly showed them to Ms. Jackson, and the decision had been made. As we all pulled up to the shop, I thought it was a cute little quaint store, not too big and a small, owned business. As we went inside, we were assaulted by mannequins with tons of clothes and styles, bolts of fabrics, accessories, equipment for pressing and ironing, and several sewing machines in the very back.

The little bell chimed as we came in and a voice from the back of the store said, "I'll be right there." Stella and our mothers walked around the store oohing and aahing over everything they saw, and I slowly walked behind them, slightly overwhelmed with such a selection. How the hell was I going to figure out what I wanted to wear in all of this?