“I want to call you sometime, or text, whatever. What’s your number?” “Give me your phone,” Taiye replied. She laughed at the brick of a phone—a relic from the early 2000s—that the woman handed over. Taiye fumbled with the tiny keypad and typed in her number. “Call me,” she said, handing the phone over. “I will,” Salomé replied, and smiling, she headed out. “HEY, THIS IS SALOMÉ, uh, from the Odette. I’m calling to … um … invite you to an event, uh, this Thursday at the North Memorial Library. It’s a monthly Black film series thing at seven p.m. Not school related at all, just a … uh … thing.
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