Temi POV

"Temi, we've got to go," Isa says from the other side of my room door that she's been banging on for the past five minutes.

"Yeah, I know," I reply, rolling my eyes even though she can't see me, "just give me a minute."

"You said I should give you a minute ten minutes ago. It's been ten minutes."

I opt on ignoring her. Instead, I concentrate on pulling on a pair of black ripped jeans.

"Temi, are you ready now?"

"Give me a fucking minute, okay?" I snap back at her, scrambling to put on my clothes scattered all over my hotel bed. I hear Isa sigh in frustration from the other end of the door, but she says nothing else for a while.

I quickly get dressed, then look at my reflection in the full-length mirror attached to the closet.

"Temi, Sophie's gonna be here any moment now to take us to lunch." Comes Isa's voice once again, "I can't understand why you waited till the very last minute to get dressed up."

There's a million things I would much rather do than have to sit through and endure a lunch session with a bunch of politicians, pretending to be the perfect daughter for my mom.

"Temi, what the hell are you still doing in there?"

Isa's voice interrupts my thoughts, reminding me of the fact that I actually have to attend the lunch no matter how desperately I would much rather stick needles in my eyes.

"Isa, has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?"

"Okay, that's it. I'm coming in."

A second later, Isa appears in the doorway.

"Temi, what's taking you so long? We-" Isa's voice drains away when she catches sight of me. Her eyes widen slightly as they scan me from head to toe.

I stand there with my jaw jutted out in what I hope looks like a defiant pose.

"Temi, I don't necessarily have 20/20 vision, but from where I'm standing, it doesn't look like you're wearing the yellow dress that Sophie repeatedly reminded you to put on today."

I fold my arms over my chest and clench my jaw, hoping that I appear even more defiant. Isa looks at me, amusement clear on her features.

Instead of the yellow dress my mom had wanted me to wear, I am dressed from head to toe in black: a black oversized shirt, black ripped jeans, black Doc Martens.

I stand there, waiting for Isa to make more comments about my outfit or even force me to change. But to my surprise, she leans against the doorframe, folding her arms over her chest as she looks at me.

"You're quite the rebel, Temilola, aren't you?"

Usually no one but my mom ever calls me by my full name. But hearing Isa say it sends a strange feeling through me. She doesn't say it condescendingly. For some reason, it just sounds so right when she says it.

At that moment, Isa's phone rings in her pocket and she answers it, never moving her eyes from me.

"Sophie just called. We have to go. Now." Isa says, putting her phone back in her pocket before heading for the door of our hotel room.

I silently follow behind her, still slightly surprised by the fact she didn't make a fuss about my outfit. Isa, herself, is dressed head-to-toe in a black suit. I figure that wearing a suit is a typical bodyguard uniform. Yet, I can't wrap my head around the fact that Isa pulls it off so seamlessly.

Unlike Isa, Sophie makes a fuss the moment she sees me. Her mouth opens wide and her green eyes appear like they will pop out of her head at any moment.

"Temi, what are you wearing?" Sophie practically screeches into my face.

"Clothes," I reply sarcastically, brushing past her.

Isa, who is walking right behind me, snorts at this, causing a huge smile to form on my face. I'm glad that Isa is behind me and cannot see me smiling. The last thing I want is for Isa to think she sparks any positive emotion from me.

I get into the limo parked out front for us, and Isa follows after me. Sophie is still standing on the curb, looking at me in shock. She seems to have a mental battle within herself before finally rushing into the limo.

"Temi, why would you wear this?" Sophie asks the second she gets into the limo. She's staring at me in such disbelief, one would think that I murdered somebody.

"Because I want to," I reply stubbornly.

"Your mom will not be thrilled about this," Sophie simply says.

I shrug and turn my attention so that I am looking out of the window, rather than at Sophie's bewildered expression.

For the rest of the ride, Sophie murmurs to herself. I can barely make out what she's saying, but she occasionally sends worried glances in my direction.

I sneak a glance at Isa, who seems to be genuinely amused by the whole situation. A slight smirk is forming on the corner of her mouth as she watches Sophie's mini-breakdown. Her eyes divert suddenly, catching me staring. She winks at me, which I return with a scowl before looking away.

Twenty minutes later, the limo comes to a stop in front of a huge white mansion-like building. Sophie steps out first and immediately begins beckoning me into the venue.

Isa walks behind us with her hands tucked into her blazer pockets. As usual, looking like she does not have a care in the world.

Entering the venue, I am instantly flooded by the masses of people moving about. It's clear that this is a high end event. Everyone is dressed in suits and gowns and I suddenly become self-conscious of what I'm wearing.

Majority of the people here are white and mostly male, typical of the US government, so my mom stands out like a sore thumb as the only black woman.

"Temi! Come on," Sophie urges, inching me forward into the midst of people. My mom is standing in the corner of the room, engaging in conversation with a man. She has her back turned to us, so is unaware of our presence. 

"Senator Adeola, your daughter is here," Sophie says once we are finally within earshot.

I watch as my mom turns from her conversation to look at me. She has a wide smile etched onto her face, which instantly disappears the moment that she sees me.

"Temilola, what are you wearing?"

Hearing my mom use my full name doesn't have the same effect on me as it did when Isa said it. If anything, it's the opposite.

I don't say anything, but just look at my mom blankly. The smugness and pleasure I had initially felt when dressing up is now completely gone as my mom scans me from top to bottom.

Her eyes snap to Sophie, eyes raging: "didn't I tell you to remind her to wear the yellow dress?"

"I did," Sophie says. Her voice comes out as a squeak. Even she can feel my mom's rage.

"It's nice to see you too, mom." I finally say, "I'm doing okay. Thanks for asking."

My mom turns to look at me again and lets out an exasperated sigh. Her rage is gone, and all that is left seems to be disappointment. I would much rather prefer her rage over that.

"Temi, why didn't you wear the yellow dress like I told you to?"

"I don't know where it is." I reply, which is not completely a lie, seeing as I donated it at Goodwill a couple of years ago.

For a moment, it appears like my mom wants to say something in response, but she gives up. Probably realizing that I'm not even worth her time. Her eyes go over to Isa standing a little distance away and she nods at her. Isa returns this nod in some weirdly orchestrated inner-meaning type of shit, and it pisses me off.

"Well Temi, there are some people I would like for you to meet," my mom finally says.

I want to tell her that meeting with a bunch of rich, white, old men is the last thing I am interested in doing at the moment, but I keep my mouth clamped shut. I figure I have already caused enough problems today.

Just as I expect, the rest of the lunch does not get any better. I'm basically on my feet throughout, following my mom around like a lost puppy. I need to force smiles onto my face and pretend that I'm interested in whatever conversation I find myself in.

But I am used to this. This had been the entirety of my life since the first time my mom had run for Senate.

At several points during the event, I search the crowd for Isa. She's always close by somewhere, leaning against a wall with her hands in her pockets and her eyes fixed intently on me. I wish we could switch positions right now.

In such situations, I usually texted Grace and ranted about everything going on. But of course, there is no Grace to call anymore. I don't even feel sad these days when I think of her. I mostly just feel numb.