It's the third, and Rory WhatsApp's Asmaa after class.

I'm picking you up chick.

Asmaa has one more day to come up with her rent.

But, she swallows that thought and meets Kezie after class.

"We riding with Rory tonight?" She asks, hooking her arm through Asmaa's.

She grins; she loves how Kezie always does that. "Yep," she nods. "Let's go."

They meet her in the lot.

"Well, would you look at this!" Kezie exclaims, as Rory rolls down the windows, watching the girls approach. "Look who came along for the ride!"

Desirée laughs aloud. "Fuck you, Kezie!"

"I mean, if you're down, I'm down!"

Asmaa finds herself laughing with all three girls.

"Am I dropping you off, too?" Rory asks Kezie, as the girls jump into the car. "Or do you have a ride today?"

"Right," Desi laughs. "From your 'best friend.'"

Asmaa looks between them. "Wait, what? Who's your man? Is this the one from before?"

"Ha--!" Rory laughs aloud. "Asmaa knows about Calum, already?"

Desirée turns in the seat to face them. "She tell you they fuck?"

Asmaa's eyes widen. "You said he was your best friend!"

"--with benefits!"

The front of the car erupts with laughter.

Kezie shakes her head. "One time! It was only one time!"

"And he's thinking about that time right now," Desi smirks. "Probably dreaming about being back in that pu--"

"Hoooo-kay," Kezie exclaims, as Desirée cackles from the passenger seat. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."

Desirée laughs aloud. "Just calling it like I see it, Kez."

"Even though you're wrong, Desirée."

"Hey," she holds up her hands, "Jury's still out on that."

"Nope," she shakes her head of thick hair. "It's not, because he hates me right now."

"Doubt it," Desirée snorts. "That's not even possible."

"That's what you think," Kezie laughs. "But, he's been mad at me for literally the past two years."

"But he still wants that ass, so he'll get over it," scoffs Desi. "The fuck you mean, Kezie?"

Asmaa's head is spinning as she looks back and forth between the girls. She's dying to ask questions, but she refrains. And it takes everything in her to do so.

They drop Kezie off first and Asmaa is once again shocked by how nice of a place her friends have to live.

Like, seriously. How?

Chikezie literally lived a block from Buckingham Palace. And, she was literally a twenty minute walk from Rory.

Like, seriously.

How???

Asmaa couldn't believe it.

And she wanted to know how Kezie could complain about med school and still afford this place. She had to have money. Or come from it.

She had to.

Because of course they get invited upstairs and Asmaa nearly loses her mind.

"How...?" She spins around in Kezie's living room. "Seriously, Kezie...How?"

And Kezie only laughs as the girls make themselves at home in her house.

"Honestly," she grins, "ask Rory."

"Ha! Me?" She laughs, shaking her head. "More like, ask Calum."

And like that, conversation switches immediately.

"Could we stop bringing him up, babes? Okay. Thanks."

"Could you stop fucking him and leading him on? Okay. Thanks."

And Kezie smiles without her eyes. "I'm not fucking him, just like I keep telling you."

"Right," and Desirée points to a bottle of wine on the counter. "Is it too early to drink this, or...?"

"Nah," Kezie shrugs tiredly. "Have at it."

__

"Can I pee? Shit--"

"Of course," Asmaa replies at once, as Rory pulls up outside of her house, now. "Come on, oh my god..."

"I'm drunk."

"Really?" Laughs Rory, as she shoves Desirée playfully in the passenger seat. "'Cause it's really fuckin' obvious."

"Shut up, bitch," Desirée giggles. "I hate you."

"Not when I'm giving your ass a ride."

And Asmaa laughs, leading the girls into her building.

It's nothing. Really.

And she's not just saying that because it pales in comparison to Rory or Kezie's place. It's because anyone would come into this neighborhood and look at this place and see that it was literally, a piece of crap.  It was all she could afford when she moved, but if her mother knew that this was her living situation, she'd bring her home. She'd send her to live with Ayat in Paris, or something, because the neighborhood wasn't great and it would give both of her parents a heart attack to know their baby been here for the past five months.

She was almost a little nervous for Rory to park her car outside.

But, for the second time that week, the G-Wagon stayed parked outside and Asmaa led Rory and Desirée to the elevator.

And she runs right into one of her neighbors and her fucking landlady.

Asmaa thinks to say nothing, but she can't help but notice how this old woman is staring at her and staring at her friends, who are definitely carrying bags that are worth more than her rent.

They've probably got more money on them now than her landlady has ever seen in one sitting.

That doesn't stop her from eyeing the girls up and down, her wrinkled lips pursed disdainfully.

She clutches her bag, gripping it tighter to her body.

And Rory notices.

She lifts a perfectly arched brow. "Can I help you?"

The landlady scoffs, eyeing Asmaa. "They with you?"

Asmaa nods. "Yes."

Desi sneers, "The fuck is it any of your business?"

The landlady doesn't respond. Instead, she tips her head, eyeing Asmaa through narrowed blue eyes.

"Just make sure I get my pounds tomorrow, Asmaa," she drawls, dragging out the vowels in her name, pronouncing it wrong. "Don't need you being late again, do we?"

Asmaa's blinks, her cheeks flooding with blood as the crowded elevator is suddenly made aware of her financial instability.

All eyes are on her.

"I--"

And the disdain continues to drip from the woman's lips. "I'll say it again, since the people like you apparently always need the reminder: Don't forget my rent."

The elevator doors open.

The lady steps out.

The crowd disperses.

And Asmaa's mouth stays open, that look of pure shock plastered across her face.

"Asmaa?" Rory asks, as she leads the girls to her apartment. She's blinking back a mixture of shock and embarrassment and anger as she feels for her key. "Are you okay?"

"Do you want me to go fight that bitch?"

Any other time, Asmaa might have laughed. Any other time, Desirée's comment might have made her feel better. But, now? Now, she can barely see straight, with her eyes blurring over from the tears threatening to spill.

And they're inside, now.

They're inside her place; the place she still doesn't have money to pay for; the place she still can't afford.

The shitty apartment that still took her money each month.

Rory's hand grips her wrist. "Asmaa?"

She laughs, now.

Out of shock, really. Out of shock, and maybe partly due to all the wine. It was the liquor doing this. It was the red wine in her system that made her start thinking like this; start acting like this.

This didn't happen to her  a lot at home.

All of it.

The drinking. The bodycons. The racism. Rarely ever. She'd mostly only heard of instances like this that happened to her people when they went abroad and came home to tell stories.

But, now?

Now, she cries.

Because here she was trying to save the world and she couldn't do it because she didn't have the money for rent. Here she was thinking she could make it on her own and here she was finally making friends and here she was finally starting to feel like she was establishing herself in this city when she was this close to being sent home because she didn't have a place to stay and would be evicted from her apartment because of her brown skin and because of her faith.

She's got her head in her hands and she's voicing all of these things to three girls who really don't know her well enough to comfort her through this, to girls who she'd barely known a week, to girls who had much more authority over their own lives, to girls she felt like she could truly grow to love.

But, she's also voicing her issues and crying through them and those girls are also comforting her. They've also got her water now and are crouched around her and they're rubbing soothing circles on her back and trying to be as uplifting as possible.

"I'm gonna fight that bitch."

Asmaa chokes on a laugh that only makes her cry more. She was going to miss this--Desi's dry, angry sense of humor--when she went home to Marrakech.

"I'm literally gonna get sent home, guys. This is it. This is going to be my last month in London."

"Don't say that, baby," Rory coos, "Do you know how many times my mom's threatened to bring me back to California?"

"No, but seriously," Asmaa cries. "I can't afford it here, Rory. This is not my first month that I'll be late with rent--"

"Who says you've got to be late?" Desi exclaims.

"Um." Asmaa blinks, "How in the world can I come up with the money in a day?"

"Believe me, there are plenty of ways, Asmaa--"

"How much is rent, mama?" Rory interrupts, before Desirée can finish her thought.

And at that question, Asmaa cries harder, that pit growing in her stomach.

"Jesus, Rory--Look what you've done."

"What? We need to know!"

"Eight hundred," Asmaa sniffs, as Rory lunges for tissues.

"Pounds?" Desi exclaims. "For this piece of sh--"

"Don't worry about it, babe," Rory exclaims quickly, glaring at Desirée. "Don't worry, we're here to help."

"Help me, what?" Asmaa exclaims. "Pay my rent?"

Desirée nods. "Exactly. Pssh," she scoffs, "I mean it, love. Work with us and you'll make that in a night."

"Make what?" She sniffs, still not believing the words escaping her lips. "Money?"

"Jesus Christ--Yes, Asmaa."

"But..."

Desirée turns at once, "Rory, I can't. You have to tell her."

"Tell me what?"

"Or I will."

"What I--what we really do. Look, Asmaa, you cannot tell Lira, okay? She doesn't know. Nobody in my family knows."

"Then don't tell her about me, either," she says. "Because if you don't want Lira to know, then I know I don't."

If Lira knew, then Ayat would know, and that was only a gateway to her momma and daddy.

"Okay," Rory takes a breath. "Have you heard of Phoenix?"

"Like..." she frowns, "from Harry Potter?"

"What--! Girl...," Rory's giggle melds with Desirée's.

"Holy shit, I love you, Asmaa..."

She smiles hearing that from Desi. "Okay, then no..."

"Obviously."

"It's a club, Asmaa," Rory continues. "Phoenix. It's where we work."

She sniffs. "With Kezie, too?"

"Mhm," she nods, grinning. "With her, too. It's how we afford our...our--"

"Lifestyles."

"Exactly," she nods. "It's how we afford school and the clothes and our flats...It's because we work at Phoenix."

"Where you work, now."

"Only if you want," Rory clarifies.

"Oh, please," Desirée snorts. "Like I'll even let you continue to give your hard-earned pounds to this disrespectful bitch," she crosses her arms. "You're moving. End of story."

"She's right," and Rory nods. "You'll stay with me."

"But--"

"But?" Rory laughs. "What could be the 'but,' Asmaa?"

"But..." She sputters, eyes welling again with tears, "But, I can barely scrape up £800, Rory. How am I ever going to afford rent to your place?"

Rory laughs, shaking her head. "Babe, I've got my rent covered. I want you to stay with me 'cause one, there's no way in hell you should be here, and two, in no time at all you'll be affording your own rent and you can move out or we can split, or--"

"Or," Desirée adds, "you'll be like Blaire and meet a rich man and you'll never have to pay for anything ever, or work again."

And despite herself and this whole crazy situation, Asmaa giggles. She giggles because this shitty situation and terrible day has brought one thing to light: she'd really made real friends.

She was in London living her life and she had friends.

That was enough to make her really, truly smile.

"Either way," Rory reaches out, wiping at her eyes, "you're not staying here."

"Okay, okay," she grins, still wiping at her eyes and smeared makeup, "So what are you guys, anyway? Like, bartenders?"

Rory and Desirée both shoot each other quick glances.

"Uh..."

"Not exactly," Rory begins. "More like..."

"Strippers," Desirée finishes. Leave it to her to cut straight to the chase. "We're strippers, Asmaa."

"And..." Asmaa points to herself, "You want me...? You think I...?"

"Could be one, too?" Desi nods. "Absolutely."

___

oop! secret's out.