Disclaimer: I own nothing. Aaron McGruder owns is all. If I did, Huey would be POTUS.

REVIEWS:

LavenderLuvER18: Thank you 😊. I hope you like the next one even more and tell me what you think. I look forward to your comments as always.

WARNING: I'm gonna have to up the rating soon, I know I am, but I don't wanna do it until we're at a certain point. We'll see. What can I say about that "stuff"? Um, there's "stuff" from the scene that starts at "I open my eyes, see the brightness of the room" to the end of that scene and then again from the scene that starts at "I feel that triangle" to the end of that scene. So yeah. Um, yeah. Have fun 😊.

CHAPTER 32:

I'm going to kill him. If he's there again, looking at her, I will kill him.

I hear Mr. Willis say, "Huey my boy, can you make sure those bunkbeds are secure to the wall again? I don't want one of them disappearing now that they expect them to be here." I respond, "Yes Mr. Willis. Have you taken your medication today?"

Booked for the holidays. Good. I exhale and hear him say, "I'll be taking it soon. You worry too much Howie." I feel myself blink, knowing I'm confused, and don't like being so. I look up from the screen, see him inhale, and close his eyes. I ask, "Mr. Willis are you okay?" I see him nod, open his eyes, and he says, "I'm sorry about that Huey. I know it's you and not my son. Just remind me of him sometimes with how he took care of me when he helped me here in the office. Back then 'course it wasn't my blood pressure medication but taking aspirin for the pain when I would do too much cleaning up in the hangar." I exhale and remember I need to get Grandad more orange juice by tomorrow and his refill for his blood pressure medication before the end of the week. I exhale and say, "Mr. Willis, sit down and I'll go get you some water so you can take your medication." I see him smile, nod, and sit down in the seat next to the doorframe.

After coming back with a glass of water and handing it to him I say, "Let me get your medication." I see him smile, I turn around, and hear him say, "Thank you Huey." I walk over to the desk, open the drawer, grab the medication, take the two pills out, walk over to him and place them in his hand. I walk back to the desk, sit down, and see it's almost seven. Seeing the time, I get that 'feeling', that warmth again, know it's there, but right now I have to finish this schedule covering the next two months and the busiest time of the year for the shelter. I exhale, knowing I want to do more for this place but for now, I need to finish this spreadsheet and then send several e-mails confirming with the organizations donating this month.

I hear him say, "It was truly a mess when you weren't here my boy. 'Course everything worked out well because God watches over this place but there were days when we didn't have any food to give the people and then days the food would go bad because we couldn't store it all. Had to throw food away although that's a sin in God's eyes." I exhale, remembering he speaks about his religious views more openly with me now, and I say, "The shelter will have donations every night for the rest of the month and all of next month, I'm sure due to the holidays. I'll be e-mailing all the organizations who are scheduled to make sure they confirm what day they'll be here but it seems they're all trying to give their final yearly donation for their tax write-off." Taxes. I know enough about them and how some people try to evade paying them and how some use the system we operate in to not pay any at all. I exhale, knowing this world is backwards in more ways than people want to acknowledge.

I hear him laugh, look up, and see him sitting on the chair with that empty glass. He says, "Just like him." I see him exhale and he continues, "My boy, one day you'll see that some people just want to give because it's in their heart to give and those are good people. Some of those places that donate have good people that just want to give and there are other places that don't have good people and want to give for selfish reasons. Some of those places have both kinds of people, ones that have that goodness in their heart and ones that don't. And those people, the ones that don't have that goodness in their heart go give, those people are sick and not good for the soul and you should always stay away from them and only keep the ones with that goodness that fills our soul. Life is too short and we must only have those good people in our lives son."

I inhale, knowing even Grandad doesn't refer to me in such a fatherly way, and not completely sure as to how to deal with this. I see him smile at me, nod out of respect, and hear the phone ring. I look over at the phone, pick it up, and say, "Yes." I hear that laugh, exhale, and hear him say, "Huey, is my father there?" I respond, "Yes, Frank. Just give me a minute to give him the phone." I hear him say, "Thanks Huey."

I look up at Mr. Willis, see him grab his cane, I exhale, and say, "Mr. Willis." I see him smile, sit back down, and I get up and move the phone around the desk with the extended cord I made sure to bring last week, knowing he walks back and forth to the desk too many times a day and stands next to the desk to talk on the landline because there's usually someone sitting at his desk working on the office paperwork and scheduling for him. I put the base of the old phone on the smaller desk next to him and hand him the phone.

I walk back to the desk, sit down, and continue working on the scheduling. Still need to send those e-mails. He said good people. And she says what I call having character is actually being a 'good person'. I exhale, knowing today I know more people that have character than I used to, but not as many as others say they do. And really, it's only those I would consider family and friends that have the sufficient amount of character I would consider to be enough. I understand some would say that's harsh, possibly even judgmental, but I couldn't care less what others think as long as I'm speaking the truth and I'm content. I exhale. I feel content today. I feel content with that amount of character those that I surround myself with have. And, it's possible she's right and those people are also 'good people'. I feel my smirk, knowing she doesn't have to know she's right, how truly aware she is, and how much I didn't care if those morons at school were looking when she sat on my lap during lunch on Monday. At least, other than fucken idiots I will beat as many times as necessary, they all know who she belongs to, regardless of how I know the world works.

After sending those e-mails and saving the file I exhale and see it's ten minutes pass seven. She should be in the waiting room. It takes me six minutes to get from the shelter to their front office if I walk fast. I close the laptop, stand up, crack my neck, reminding me of that training from last night, and exhale, looking forward to my bed and book tonight. I hear Mr. Willis hang up and hear him say, "Huey."

I look up, see he's looking at me, and he says, "Franky said he'll be here next week so I'll have him come help early in the morning, before dinner. You can just get here at the same time as your friends." I feel my eyebrow rise, see him smile, and out of respect and because I try to mind my own business, I nod, and say, "Okay. I'll be here at ten with everyone else." I see him nod.

I walk around the desk, walk up to the coat hanger, grab my coat, start putting it on, and I say, "Mac should be here in fifteen minutes. Remember you're under strict instructions by Mary to not lift anything heavier than fifteen pounds. I'll check that the bunkbeds are secure before I leave." I hear him exhale and I walk up doorway and say, "Goodnight Mr. Willis." I step outside of the office and hear him say, "Goodnight Howie." I stop, exhale, and start walking towards the hangar to make sure those bunkbeds are secure.

I take those steps two at a time, push the door open, and feel my face fall seeing that idiot again, leaning on the front desk. I exhale, look around, and feel my eyebrow rise seeing that she's not here.

I hear a women's voice say, "Hi Huey." I look over at that front desk clerk, walk up to her, see her smile at me, and she says, "Jazzy's helping the residents, but she'll be right out." I nod, thank her, and walk over to one of the chairs in the corner where I can keep an eye on the entirety of the waiting room. I hear that idiot continue talking to her, wondering why women, strong women with education like her own, since I looked into her background and I know she has a degree in office administration, allow idiots like that that have openly looked at other women in front of her to, as my friends so eloquently state, 'get' at her. I inhale, looking at the fucken idiot, who's looked at Jazmine several times but hasn't tried talking to her more than likely because he knows she has a boyfriend that picks her up every damn day to make sure it doesn't happen. And, to keep her safe.

I hear that voice say, "Huey." I look over, see that afro in that long braid, thick at the top, soft, exhale, and stand up. I see that smile, see her turn to the clerk, and feel my eyebrow rise, seeing her ignore that fucken idiot and direct her attention to the clerk. She's pleasant, to a fault, to everyone in the vicinity. I see her smile and she says, "I'll see you in two weeks Mo."

I hear that fucken idiot say, "You won't be here next week?" I inhale, remembering I want to kill him, see her turn to me, smile at me, walk up to me, and inhale longer, seeing that face come up to me, and feeling that peck on my lips. I consciously lick my lips and wonder if she can stay over tonight even though it's not Saturday night, since we only kissed in the morning and right now.

I see those lips move and hear her whisper, "Let's go bestie." I nod, trying to relax to not kill him, grab my backpack that's on the floor, and put it over my shoulder. I grab her hand and walk up to the door, ready to leave before I do something that could lead to that idiot's demise and more importantly could jeopardize her position here.

I hear her say, "He tried talking to me." I inhale, feel her hand inside of my own, and exhale. I look out the window, going through downtown, and wonder if I should start saving up for a car. Two men, one in his early twenties, the other mid-forties, one women, mid-twenties, on the bus with us right now. She wouldn't be on the bus right now. I could get to the nursing home faster, I wouldn't have her walking down that construction zone where those fucken idiots that think they know who she should be with look when I put my arm around her shoulders, and we could get home in ten minutes rather than over half an hour. And, she wouldn't be on the bus right now. And, I could be at the nursing home in one minute, rather than six.

I feel that hand start with a triangle. She started doing that during the day, drawing shapes when she's worried. She doesn't pull on that hair anymore, just starts drawing shapes on me rather than writing the alphabet. I feel myself relax, either from those drawings or the fact that that untamable hair is no longer her target when she is worried.

I hear her say, "Relax okay. I'll tell you but you need to relax and bring down your temperature." I exhale, feel myself slump into the seat as uncomfortable as it is, and I hear her say, "Thank you." Aside from pulling me and stopping me from killing idiots, she now tells me when to relax. I wonder if that god is still laughing at my expense.

I hear her say, "When I got there, I helped Mo enter the check-in list for the day, then she asked me if I could sit at her desk so she could take her break. I did, opened my book, and then I heard him walking up to the desk. I had seen him sitting there when I walked in and I had been polite and said hello." I hear her exhale and she continues, "But he doesn't know that when I was helping enter the check-in list I checked what days he visits Mrs. Harrington and I saw he only visits her when I'm there. I mean it's totally possible that he just wants to visit her on those days, around the time I volunteer, but then I know he looks at me, and I even saw that he checks out after I leave for the day. I mean, I'm fifteen, not dumb, if that's what he thinks."

I hear her exhale, feel my temperature rising, and hear her say, "Relax so I can tell you the rest okay." I look up at the sign over the front windscreen showing the street names we're passing, trying to focus on anything but getting off the bus to take the one back to see if he's still there, and feel my temperature dropping to a normal degree.

I hear her say, "Thank you bestie. So, I know he's there when I'm there and he looks at me, so when he walked up to the desk, I was just trying to be polite. I asked him if he needed help and he said he just wanted to talk to me." I feel myself exhale, feel her grab my leg, on the bus in public, and I let her. I hear her say, "I told him if he didn't need help, then I really didn't have anything to talk to him about." I hear her exhale, feel her nails going into my jeans, feel my eyebrow rise, look down to my right to the peripheral of that face, see that small nose, that scrunched forehead, those full pursed lips, and wonder when it became this difficult to not want to kiss her.

I see those lips move and she says, "Then he started telling me who his grandmother is, thinking I didn't know or something. I told him I already knew who she was and she's really nice and a sweet lady." I see those eyes close, feel those nails digging into my jeans, see her exhale, feeling curiosity, a rare 'feeling' for me, see her open those eyes, and she says, "Then he said the only reason his grandmother was staying there is because their family's from Woodcrest and she wants to stay there but really they could afford to have her anywhere because they're so well-off." I see those eyes close again, feel those nails through my jeans on my skin, know I'm asking her to stay over tonight, see those lips move again, and she says, "I told him it was good that his family could afford that but it shouldn't matter how well-off they are as long as his grandmother's happy." I see her exhale and she says, "Then he asked me if I knew how well-off they were." I inhale, see those eyes open, look at me with the darker forest green, and she says, "I told him I didn't care how well-off they are and I felt bad for anyone that did and if he tried talking to me again about that sort of stuff I'd tell Mo that I didn't want to help in the front when he's there. Then she walked in and I got up and went to help the residents."

I exhale, feeling my temperature returning to that normal degree it should be, trying to not think about the significance of her not caring about those things, feel those nails releasing their hold on my skin and jeans, and she says, "No one I know and care about cares about that stuff. We just hang out and have fun. I don't understand why some people can't see that not everyone in the world is like that, that not everyone just wants money and things. I mean I know we all want some stuff, but you know, just like what we need. I mean that's what mom's trying to teach us I think, only getting us the things we need. Even when we go to the mall, sometimes we don't get anything. We just walk around, eat, and then come home because my sister and me don't need anything. We already have each other and mom and you and Riley and our friends. We have everything."

Fuck. Public transit Huey. Public transit. Need to be aware of my surroundings, not have her sitting on my lap. I see that smile and she says, "We're almost home and then we can hang out for a little before I leave okay."

I exhale and hear Ruckus yell, "Ya'll stop coming up lil half and half!" I exhale, knowing I'll still keep my promise of that theatre incident, regardless of how old he is. I hear that giggle and she says, "He's better now Huey. And I think, even though I can't read lips, he was trying to help at the game last week." I inhale, remembering when he was trying to argue for our school's team possibly because Grandad wasn't betting on our team and he wouldn't lose any money if the team won or possibly because he has what some would call 'affection' towards Jazmine and her sister. I exhale, see that smile, and she whispers, "Good. Let's go home bestie." I feel my eyebrow rise, see that smile, and shake my head, not wanting to tell her I don't mind that nickname being said out loud as much anymore but knowing if I do tell her, she might start calling me those other nicknames out loud.

I see that head turn and see that braid that starts at the top of her head. She said it's a French braid. I couldn't care less if it originates from France or simply got the name because it seems intricate but I do care that it looks soft again. She also doesn't have to know I feel content seeing how soft it is. I see that last street sign through the window over that braid, feel the bus stop, and get up with her.

After walking up to the front, hearing her thank Ruckus, remembering she still calls him 'Uncle Ruckus' even after all those racist names he called her and he possibly doesn't know are racist and the horrible life he's had, remembering that he did try to help the team last week and Jazmine's younger sister, who happens to be my brother's girlfriend, and my friends' girlfriends are all on that team, and remembering how she tried raising is to be 'nice' and they met this last summer and she took a liking to that blonde afro and her family, I exhale, turn to him, see him looking at me, and I say, "Thank you Ruckus." I see him purse his lips, I turn, and see those hips going down the steps.

I take that first step down and then hear him say, "Hey darky, even though you two shades from being white." I inhale, turn back, see him looking at me with his good eye, and he says, "I know you be taking care of lil half and half and that hooligan brother of yours be taking care of the lil white girl that likes hanging out with ya'll." I exhale, remember Grandad still meets him at the park to play checkers, and nod. He continues, "Wells. Just wanted to tell ya'll that that darky that thought he was all high and mighty just cuz that pretty white momma of lil half and half took his black ass in and taught him to read and whatnot." I inhale, thinking I might go home to train tonight, and he says, "I saw his crazy black ass, thinking he part Scottish when I know I'm one third Irish and can tell these things, at that game of the lil white girl."

I feel my temperature dropping, feel that warm hand grab my own, and I hear her say, "Bestie?"

I exhale, look back at that good eye of his, and say, "Anywhere else?" I see him shake his head and he says, "But let you or Robert know if I do." I exhale and say, "Thank you." I turn towards that hand, see those dark greens, reminding me it's late and she's probably cold, regardless of how I feel right now, step down onto the curve with her, and put my arm around those shoulders. I feel her come into me, feel that hand on my chest, making those oval shapes, and hear her say, "I heard the last part and we'll tell everyone when we get home. Right now, please try to relax okay and remember we can defend ourselves today."

I breathe out all of the air from my lungs and start preparing for the next few days of intense training.

She says, "I'll call an old friend at the precinct downtown to make sure they're aware he's here and maybe the police can find out where he's staying. Hopefully that will lead to some information we can use to protect my daughters."

I exhale, knowing that feeling that's in my gut, the one where we need to be ready, and hear Leo say, "Sarah you need to be protected to." I look up and see those greens looking at Sarah with that worried look and I say, "I'll move back into my brother's room and you can all stay in that room."

I see those greens look at me and I exhale, knowing I wanted this night to end differently but some things are more important than what I try to live off of. I hear Grandad say, "It be nice to have cutie pie and baby girl here again to help with the chores my two lazy grandsons don't take care of."

I exhale through my nose, hear the girls giggle, and hear my brother say, "Grandad you knows I do more of the damn chores now that McHater's working so they ain't gonna be doing nothing when they're here. Even got your medicine today and more orange juice and didn't drink any on the way home." I look over at my brother, see him looking down, knowing he's trying to bring levity into the situation, but he's also worried, hear the girls start laughing, and know his idiotism does help at times.

I hear Sarah say, "Thank you Robert. And thank you Huey for giving up your room and Riley for being such a sweetheart but I think it's fine if we stay at our house for now." I look up, see those three sitting at the other end of the table again, like they were that night we talked about going to Chicago, but with Leo now sitting next to Cindy.

I say, "Sarah, it's safer here." I see her smile at me, reminding me of where Jazmine gets it, and she says, "I know Huey but you still have the alarm system set up at our house, my girls spend Saturday nights here and are with you boys or their friends always, and I still want us to have our Friday nights where it's just us so we can keep our little family and the life we have intact and I refuse to have him disrupt that."

I see that braided afro put her head on Sarah's shoulder, hear a chair move over, and see Cindy put her hand in Sarah's lap. I exhale. They are more of a family now and I said I wouldn't let any of those imbeciles, including that idiot that thought he owned them, hurt her or her peace as long as I'm around. Her peace includes the life she has now.

I exhale and say, "Fine. But until we know where he is and why he's here I'll be going through the recordings at your house and your office weekly and if you do leave your house for an extended time, like you do on Sundays, you should have one of us with you." I inhale, trying to figure out when I'll have time to start going through the recordings at her office when I'm already going through the recording at their house and the nursing home. Also, they like going to the mall on Sundays and although I don't like crowds one of us should be there.

I hear my brother say, "I'll be helping out with them recordings at your office. I know what the punk ass looks like and I know some shady people on the street that handle with Ed and Rummy so I'll know if he paid anyone to do shit in your office." I feel my eyebrow rise, look over at my brother, and hear Leo say, "And I can bring the boys with me when you all want to go to the mall on Sundays to spend time with them there. I'm sure they'll also bring their girlfriends so it'll be a nice way to get to know those two girls better and spend time with you and these halfway adopted daughters of mine." I look over at Leo, feeling my other eyebrow rise, and hear Sarah say, "Really everyone. You all worry too much." I hear Leo exhale and he says, "Sarah, we worry because we care. And I will not go into detail out of respect for you and your daughters but we have reason to worry, especially for you. So, please, let us help."

I look back at Sarah, see her exhale, and hear that voice I should still be going to sleep to tomorrow night say, "And I promise to only let Huey look at those recordings once." I exhale through my nose again and hear Cindy say, "And I ain't letting Riles do more than that shit to. Need to stay on his game."

I start, "I can handle the work, just." But Sarah cuts me off with, "Okay. I'm fine with all of that as long as it's divided up so Huey isn't doing all of it and only until we find out where he is and why he's here."

I start again, "I can handle." But then Grandad cuts me off with, "Alright then. Now, baby girl go make your Grandad some of that lemonade you made back at Cookie's cuz you haven't made some here." I hear my brother say, "You knows we in November Grandad and lemonade for the summer and you can't be drinking that much sugar right?"

I look at my brother, surprised and relived. I hear Grandad say, "I want that damn lemonade and no one gonna stop me from having it like I wanted that damn popcorn with butter and they wouldn't butter it damn it! All I wanted was a soda pop, butter on my popcorn, and clean bathrooms!"

I look down, shake my head, remembering that day being the worse day of her life, and hear her laughing with her mother and sister. I hear Sarah's voice say, "Well, maybe having some lemonade would be good to relax a little if Robert only drinks one glass and then we can all go home so I can have my Friday night with my daughters. And then tomorrow my daughters I'm sure will be spending time at this house and I'll be across the street with my Leo."

I look up, see those hips standing, feeling my eyebrow rise, and hear her say, "Come on sis so you can keep teaching me how you make that awesome lemonade." I exhale, wondering when it became so hard to wait for Saturday night.

I hear that knock and move my laptop out of the way, realizing how much work still has to be done by Black Lives Matters, beginning with a restructuring of its goals and a way to have each separate group in each state have a voice in the decisions and actions taken by the whole organization, aiming for a singular purpose. I exhale walking to the door. I need to talk to Caesar about this and see what actions have been put forward in Chicago, where one of the strongest groups of Black Lives Matters exists. I wonder if she'll want to go to Chicago with me next year. I feel my forehead scrunch thinking when it became ordinary to consider visiting Chicago on a yearly basis.

I open the door and feel my smirk seeing that long purple sweater, those black tights, swallow knowing what that sweater and tights are covering, and see those high top black converse. I go back up, see that tint, and she says, "Hi Huey!" I feel my forehead scrunch again, being confused again for the second time this week, see those shoulders under that sweater move up and down and those greens look down and away from me, feeling frustrated, and I say, "Jazmine." I hear her whisper, "I know. It feels weird. But, I'm trying Huey. I just always call you my bestie whenever you open the door and then I don't stop myself from calling you that. But you said to not call you that when we're in public but I can't stop myself so I'm thinking I'll stop doing it completely and maybe it won't be so hard when we are in public."

I exhale, knowing what I want but knowing I'm still susceptible to those characteristics I get from that family, one being to be callous with those that are close to me when I do feel inadequate. So, instead of telling her what I want, I say, "Get in before the power from that heater is wasted."

I inhale, see those greens look back up at me with that small smile, and move to let her in. I exhale watching her taking off her shoes and I say, "Jazmine, I," but she cuts me off with, "You weren't reading tonight?"

I exhale, look at the bed with the laptop, and say, "Earlier. Researching right now." I see those long curls on that slender back walk towards the bed, see her sit where I was sitting, and see those greens reading what's on the screen.

I see those eyes look up at me, see that small smile again, and she says, "I only know a little bit about Black Lives Matters but I know it's still really active. And I remember when I was reading about women of color that I found out Black Lives Matters was started in California, a city called Oakland I think, and it was started by a black woman but then it got moving in other places."

I exhale, feeling that damn thump in my chest that only happens when I call her by her nickname, and say, "You can call me whatever you want in here." I see that smile, the one that belongs to me, exhale, and she says, "Okay bestie. Now come sit down and I'll go make us some tea so we can have some while you research and I watch my show."

I feel myself nod, looking forward to more research that will one day help my people live the equal lives they should live, regardless of how dark or light their complexion is, what city or town they were born in, what their family's socioeconomic status is, and whether their family speaks proper English or not. I see her stand up, walk up to me, see that face come up, feel those lips on my own, feel her leave me, and I say, "Hurry." I see that smile and see her walk around me, I'm sure to the kitchen to make my mother's tea.

I hear that exhale, look down to my left, feel that heart shape on my stomach, and I say, "I thought you said you didn't like this one." I hear that inhale over the ending song and hear her say, "I don't because I don't like that she was used by that guy that I think kind of liked her and then of course there's the part that she never ends up with Spike."

I feel my eyebrow rise and say, "Jazmine, then why didn't you just skip over it instead of watching it so you wouldn't end up like this?" I feel those breast move in closer, inhale, and hear her say, "I'm just sad for her because she kind of got her heart broken the first time and then didn't end up with her Spike but I still wanted to watch it."

I shake my head and say, "One, it's an anime, as in fiction, and two, the ending is ambiguous when it comes to who survives and ends up in a couple." I feel that hair move over my arm, see those greens look up at me, realize how bright they are with the reflection of the TV, and she says, "But, even if it's just an anime, a cartoon, I like it and I wanted to see her end up with Spike, not just hope for it, like I ended up with my Spike."

I feel my eyebrows lower, hear that laugh through her nose, remember we're in my room, I e-mailed Caesar a few ideas I had, one being about contacting that women in California, Alicia Garza, to find out if she can include the story on Timothy Caughman in her organization's newspaper and website next month to pay tribute to his life, how she reminded me of that women an hour ago, and how much I still want to taste those lips, and bend down.

I taste them and know this is how I wanted last night to end but it didn't happen because it was Friday and she only sleeps over on Saturdays and after that talk about that fucken idiot that used to call himself her father, I knew she would want to spend time with her mother and sister so I didn't ask her to sleep over. And, I said she could have some of her freedom back earlier this year after he was finally out of their lives and she should be able to make those decisions, whether that means sleeping over here or at her own house on a Friday night, on her own. And, she's a capable fighter that can better defend herself now that my brother and I trained her and her sister on many nights while I had the perfect view of that ass. I exhale, turn towards her and put my hand to that waist. I feel her move up, feel those lips move up, and start sucking on my upper lip, and hear myself groan. Fuck.

I squeeze that waist and bring her in, wanting to rub myself on that soft stomach just for a few seconds before letting her help me. I feel that tongue over my lips, exhale, open my mouth wanting to taste that tongue, and feel that small warm hand on my right shoulder. I feel a squeeze on that shoulder, shut my eyes, feel myself pull away, and curse. Fuck.

I hear that voice say, "Huey, what's wrong?" I exhale, inhale, feel the pain subsiding, exhale, and open my eyes to see that worried look. I inhale and say, "It's nothing." I see those eyes squint, see those lips that I should still be kissing purse, and she says, "Bestie we talked about not keeping things from each other when we started dating, so unless it's good things, like dating stuff or birthday stuff, we should try to not keep things from each other right?" I exhale, remember that first day, when I still didn't trust people and outcomes, knowing I trust more people today but I still do not trust outcomes, which is why I just felt that pain, but know she's been my best friend for more than five years and I want her to stay being so for at least another five years.

I inhale and say, "Last night's training was somewhat." I stop, exhale, and say, "Straining." I see that forehead scrunch and she says, "You said you wouldn't push yourself too much to make sure you wouldn't injure yourself." I exhale and say, "Jazmine." I see those eyes close, see her bite down on that lower lip and inhale, feeling that 'feeling' of curiosity again watching her, see her open those eyes, and she says, "I know. You like pushing yourself but why do it where you could hurt yourself Huey? I know you train on Tuesday and Thursday nights and you know how to do it without hurting yourself so why did you train last night instead of resting like you do on Friday nights and why push yourself on a day you're supposed to be resting?"

I feel my eyebrows rise, knowing that has been my schedule for several months and I do sometimes text her after those sessions or at least mark the 'goodnight' text she sends me as read, not being prepared to hear it from her as something that she's that aware of and is that casual to her.

I see that smirk she developed sometime this year and she says, "Yes, I know your training days bestie. Now why did you train last night?"

I exhale, turn away, lay my head back on the headboard, and close my eyes, hearing the trumpet solo from the preview of the next episode and then that shot. That shot. Shots come from guns, for the most part, guns come from and lead to violence, violence my people who predominantly lived in the ghettos at the turn of the century were subjugated to, violence I need to protect her from.

I feel her moving, feel that warm hip leave my side, and I hear that voice say, "Turn around." I open my eyes, see her on her knees on the bed, looking at me, with her hands over her head, putting those long curls up, and I say, "Jazmine, what are you," but she cuts me off with, "Bestie you need to turn around." I inhale and say, "Jazmine," but she cuts me off with, "Please." I close my eyes and feel that pain going up from my upper back to my shoulders, specifically that place between my right shoulder and my neck. I exhale, open my eyes, see that smile and wonder why she always wins.

Once I'm on my stomach, I feel her over the back of my thighs with her legs on the sides of my legs, swallow, and now what I want but she wanted me on my stomach. I feel those palms on my lower back and hear her say, "I'm going to start here, but I'm gonna move up and I'll tell you when I get there so you can tell me if it's too much and you want me to stop okay?" I feel my eyebrow rise and say, "Jazmine, I can handle," but I stop, feeling that warm breath on my neck, and hear her say, "I know Huey, but even you feel pain, maybe a lot more than people think and you just never wanna say you do so let me help and tell me if it's too much okay. And, I promise to not think bad about you. You're still my best friend, my boyfriend, and the coolest fighter I know."

I feel my smirk, inhale, and exhale all of the air from my body. Then, I feel that push down on my lower back, exhale, feel her start slowly, feeling that warmth through my shirt going from that midsection to my sides and back, feeling myself relax. I feel those palms kneading those muscles on my right side, feel myself move my head to the left trying to relieve some of that pressure, and wonder what those hands would feel like on my skin. I hear that voice, reminding me to not fall asleep because it's still too early, say, "The heater just turned off so it should be warm in here." I exhale, trying to remember if I heard the heater turn off, hear her swallow, and hear that voice say, "So it should be warm enough for you to take off your shirt."

I bring my hands down to my sides, roll my shirt up, pull it over my head, and throw it somewhere in my room. I put my hands back under the pillow, hear her swallow, and I exhale, knowing I must be tired from that training because that's the only reason I wouldn't have heard the heater turn off and took my shirt off without thinking twice, and so I must've fallen asleep faster than I thought possible and she's hugging me from behind, like she does every Saturday night. But this dream, the one I'm having right now, is one of those dreams where I'm also content because it reminds of me of what she did at Aunt Cookie's house the morning after that fight but with the added quality that we haven't done this here, in Woodcrest, in my room. So, I think I'll let this dream continue and will consider asking her to do this in the morning when I wake up.

I feel those warm hands start at my lower back again, hear myself groan for many reasons, and feel those soft palms start in my midsection again and move up in small waves towards the right side, like that hair that looked like waves she had on our date in Chicago. I should take her on another date even if we both prefer spending Saturday nights here, in this room. I feel those waves coming back down towards my midsection and then going back up towards the left side of my lower back, not missing an inch, remember those twists to my lower back when I was coming down from those jumps, trying to kick where a grown man's back would be before landing, just in case I have enough space to run up to him and he's anywhere near her or her family, and hear myself say, "Need to disable him with a hit to his upper back if he shows."

I hear her exhale, feel my smirk, knowing even in my dreams she gets frustrated and must have those lips pursed and those eyes focused on her target, and hear that voice say, "So that's why you trained last night, on a night that you don't usually train, to be ready if he ever shows up again." I exhale, feeling those warm palms get to my left side, feel them start coming back towards my midback in those waves, and hear myself say, "Yes." I feel those palms slowing down and hear her say, "Did you overdo it bestie?" I exhale, feel myself relaxing deeper into this dream, and say, "Some." I hear that exhale from her and feel those palms in my midsection. I exhale, feel those waves start up, slowly, towards my right side, higher this time, and hear that voice whisper, "As not happy I am about that I know why you did it, but just know that just like how much I like to hear you talk, I like knowing you're taking care of yourself and not pushing yourself too much, because you need to take care the best Huey I know."

I exhale, feeling those palms reaching my ride side, and hear myself say, "How many more Huey's do you happen to know?" I hear that giggle, letting my heart stop, feel those palms start to come down towards my midsection, and hear her say, "You're the only Huey and the best one." Huey. That's my name. That's also my father's middle name. My father. He called me his son. Mr. Willis called me son yesterday. I hear myself say, "Mr. Willis calls me Howie." I feel those palms going over my left side, under my shoulder blade, slower than before, realizing along with my right shoulder, that part of my back, my shoulder blades, also felt strained, and I hear that voice say, "Isn't that his son's name, his son that, um?" I exhale, feeling those hands slowly going down towards my midsection again, and hear myself say, "Yes. Died in Afghanistan." I feel those palms get to my midsection and start up towards my right shoulder blade, just as slowly as before, feeling myself sink into the bed, and I hear myself say, "He could be showing symptoms of Alzheimer's." I feel those palms slow down more, hear her exhale, and hear that voice say, "Well, recently, like in the last few weeks, have you notice he's forgetting things or is having a hard time planning stuff?" I feel those palms kneading that right shoulder blade and hear myself say, "No." I hear her exhale, feeling her going back down and over that shoulder blade, and I hear that voice say, "Is he getting confused about where he is or what time it is?" I exhale, feeling those warm palms getting back to my midsection, between my shoulder blades, remembering those swings, and hear myself say, "No." I hear her inhale and hear that voice say, "Is he having problems when he talks, like not saying words in the right order or the right way?" I exhale all of the air from my lungs, feeling those palms going up and over my left shoulder blade, and I hear myself say, "No."

I hear that exhale from her and hear that voice say, "Then I don't think it's Alzheimer's bestie, at least not from what Mrs. Winters's told me about it. I think maybe, Huey, it's just that you remind him of his son. And that's a good thing." I inhale, feeling those palms reach the midsection of my shoulders, under the back of my neck, feeling that strain permeate, and hear that voice say, "Tell me if it hurts okay?" I nod and feel those warm fingers and palms moving the skin over my spine and then kneading those muscles over my right shoulder blade, slowly, wondering when she started using those fingers, and hear that voice say, "Just keep hearing my voice bestie, while I keep working okay, and I promise it'll be over soon." I exhale, remembering a feeling of contentment, safety, warmth, happiness, I felt when I was younger, on a day my mother said I had been a good older brother and my father promised me I would be fine in a few days. I feel that right now. All of it. Those 'feelings' in the physical act of those fingers and palms moving over the muscles on that shoulder, feeling that subtle pain, remember that cracking sound I heard through my right ear when I successfully landed that high jump with the sidekick and that swing in the opposite direction of that kick, just in case I'm taking care of one imbecile and another idiot decides to show up and she's there, that warmth seeping into my right shoulder from those fingers and those palms, and let myself go into that dark place I should already be in since I'm dreaming.

And, feeling myself going deeper into that sleep, where that pain that I woke up with this morning and the reason I had not made any major movements with my neck or right shoulder, I'm starting to feel a warmth over that shoulder I only remember in my childhood. That's that 'feeling', the one from that time in my life, but the difference being that we're here in this room, safe, and content, and alone. That 'feeling' of happiness she gives me and I've only told her once, the day I told her I would try for her, because even now I still struggle with those characteristics, the ones from that family, like the one of saying the truth and then ignoring it, and calling it something else, like contentment.

I hear that voice, from somewhere in the darkness of the sleep I'm in right now, say, "That name. Howie. It's a good name. And, I never noticed, but it does sound like your name. And, I'm sure you probably remind him of his son who I know was a good, caring person, the way Mr. Willis talks about him. And." I hear that voice stop from wherever it's coming from, wondering where it is, feel that breath on that right shoulder where there's no longer any pain, and hear that voice say, "I remember that name was Aunt Cookie's husband's name, Howard, another good person. So, it's a good name that kind of sounds like your name and it was given to good people that are no longer with us, remember that Huey. But, I still like your name more. Sleep bestie and goodnight warm brain."

I hear myself exhale and hear myself say the truth, "You make me happy."

I open my eyes, see the brightness of the room, remember being on my stomach, and wonder why I feel like going for a run.

I feel my smirk, feeling those hips to my left, look down, and see that blonde afro, long, realizing it looks more like those tight curls she had on that date now, rather than the afro, but still with that same fullness. I exhale, hearing those slow, small, breaths, remembering last night, that massage, and feel my eyebrow rise, looking down and seeing that I never put my shirt back on.

I feel that warm breath on my chest and hear that voice whisper, "Loony person smarter than everybody." I feel my smirk becoming that thing she likes, know, based on the sunlight just coming through the curtains, it should be early enough that everyone's asleep and won't be asking her to make tea or wanting to have conversations about my sex life, and swallow, realizing all wanted to do was taste those lips but it seems my body is now asking for something else.

I inhale, considering that run is a good idea right now, see that hand on my side, over my stomach, start moving over towards the edge of the bed, and feel those breasts move up and press themselves against my side. Shit.

I exhale, feel that hair move over my chest, and hear that voice say, "Bestie, where are you going? It's early." I exhale and say, "I need to take care of something. I'll be right back." I hear that inhale from her, see that head move, feeling my head tilt to see that face, knowing that pain in my shoulder and neck is completely gone, and see those morning jades look up at me.

I inhale, feeling myself twitch for no apparent reason, see those eyes focus on her target, and she says, "But I wanna help you."

I can run tomorrow. I move down, taste that tongue, exhale knowing we have all morning, feel that hand on my right shoulder, feel her squeeze that shoulder, grab those hips, and push myself onto that stomach, hearing her say my name. Fuck. Box of condoms in the first drawer to my right, if she wants to. I still need to open that box, pull one out, rip it open, and roll it over myself, and then. Shit.

I inhale, roll her over, feel those hands in my hair, that white cotton shirt she was wearing last night rise up, feeling myself move over that soft stomach, and taste that tongue, the one I thought was too clean for someone like me, but I'm starting to realize she doesn't care about that family. But, she said she trusts me and having her help me, like she did last night with that massage, and now like this with her hand possibly moving up and down from my base to my head is too close to using her and I am not like that family. I inhale, pull away, and feel that hand grab my base.

I say, "Fuck Jazmine. I can't right now. I'm not in control and I'm not using you. Let go." I see those jades blink, see that green variating into that darker jade, and close my eyes, trying to relax. I smell that breath and hear her say, "You don't always have to be in control Huey. We can both be in control. And." I open my eyes, see those eyes, that face, those freckles that connect as they should, see that smile and that tint over that nose, feeling my eyebrow rise, and she says, "Maybe, if you don't wanna feel like you're using me, even if I do wanna taste you, we can both." I see her swallow, see that tint expand over those freckles, feel my smirk, exhale, trying to relax, and come back down, onto her side.

I exhale, remember the need to be in control to do this right, put my arm under her neck, feel her scoot closer to me, feel those breasts on my chest, and exhale longer feeling her let go over my base. And then, I inhale feeling that palm over my head that's sticking out of my shorts, see her swallow, and I put my hand on that soft stomach, feeling that elastic waistband on those pink shorts she was wearing last night.

I see that tongue come out, lick that bottom full lip, and I go back down, tasting those lips and that tongue. I feel her move that face towards me, a pull down on my shorts, and that warm hand encircle my head, hearing myself say, "Fuck." I move my fingers under that waistband and those thin underwear, over that soft hair, feeling my hand going over that warmth I didn't know would fit that well in my hand, and hear her say, "Oh god", followed my name again.

I feel that warm, small hand move down, inhale, exhale, wanting it to lasts to enjoy it longer, and grab that mound, feeling the texture of those folds. I feel her bite my lower lip with her inhale and then feel that hand grab me harder. I hear myself curse again. Fuck. I hardly last as it is, not being able to enjoy it longer than I do, but now feeling her squirm under me again, that warm hand holding me and moving down, and that warm slickness around my index finger, I know this is better than before. Much, so much, more exceptional.

I inhale, feeling my shorts coming back up, covering my balls, feel those lips pull her away, open my eyes, not in the least ready for this to end, see that small hand that was holding my shorts come up and feel myself start to cum some seeing that tongue lick her palm. Fuck. Shit. Relax Huey, relax. I see that face come back up, taste those lips, and exhale, feeling that other hand let go of my base and grab my shorts. I feel my shorts move down again, under my balls, and then groan that nickname, feeling that wet palm grab my base.

Fuck. I don't care if I ever think I deserve her or those hugs because I'm exactly what I need to be for my people and she couldn't care less about how much I have right now or ever, because she knows what's important to me is that I continue fighting for my people, and so, I don't care how fast this ends, and I want to feel those fluids all over my hand again. So, feeling her shiver, hearing her say my name in that way I enjoy, feeling that wet hand go back down to my base again, holding me like there's no way I could break, having felt those warm folds several times covering my finger, not knowing how long we've been at this, but knowing it hasn't been long enough, I slide my finger between those folds, feeling and then passing the second set of lips.

I feel that squeeze around the joint of my index finger, hear her say, "Oh my Jesus, Huey, I", feel that bite on my lower lip again, and feel that hand of hers grab my balls and the other hand squeeze the head of my penis. Fuck. Both hands. Shit. I feel her hand slide down, remember that saliva she used to make that hand that wet, feel a squeeze around of one of my balls and thin fingers under my other balls, and feel my eyeballs going into the back of my head, feeling that release that only comes in that one action and no matter how many times I've ever jacked off, continues to feel exceptionally better. Feeling that release, I hear myself curse and say that name, let go of that mound, push my finger deeper, grab that mound again, and stroke those folds inside. I feel that squeeze around my entire finger, hear her curse, something exceptionally rare for her, feel those breast push up into my chest with the jerk of her body, and feel those fluids cover my finger, my palm, and drip down, feeling her body shaking, possibly along with my own.

I exhale, inhale, exhale longer, inhale longer, and know this is exactly how I wanted to wake up today after last night, but she doesn't have to know that. I open my eyes, see those jades open, see that tiredness in those eyes, and she says, "Morning big hair."

I feel my exhale through my nose, see that smile, and she says, "You said I could call you anything if we're in here. And, you said." I see that tint on those cheeks, feel my eyebrow rise, see her swallow, and she says, "Other stuff. But it's okay. You might not remember because you were falling asleep."

I exhale, knowing I'm still holding that mound, even though I've pulled my finger out to make sure to not hurt her, knowing she's still holding my penis and balls lightly, possibly so she doesn't hurt me, because I am human and she doesn't hold that against me, and she doesn't care about all those things other idiots care about in this world, like money, property, and prestige, and she belongs to me. But, I know how the world works, how science works, energy doesn't disappear, it's converted into other energy, the exchange that exists in that process, the reality of reciprocity, even unselfish reciprocity also means an exchange, the world is a hard and lonely place, and nobody gets anything for free, but, she doesn't believe any of that. Those jades that are blinking right now, thinking about whatever Jazmine thoughts she's thinking about believe people, even the worthless, have some good in them, and she will give to those people simply because she wants to and not to receive anything in return. She's one of those people. The ones that want to give to just give and can possibly, if I believed in souls, fill one's soul with whatever that willingness to give or goodness is.

And, although it's still going to take time, possibly longer than I can imagine, to believe any of those things she believes, if I ever, or that I truly, personally am not connected to that family, at least for now, I want to give what I do have to give because a person like her with that willingness to exchange without receiving anything in return, as she showed everyone during that fundraiser and has continued to show me, only asking for and accepting whatever it is I can give, has always deserved that consideration. And so, I can start that exchange by giving the truth, knowing what happened last night was not a dream and remembering every word I said.

I exhale, see those greens in that lighter jade again, and say, "I said you make me happy, like I said on June 3rd of this year, because you do." I inhale, seeing those jades coated in water, see that smile on those full lips, and exhale, knowing I didn't make her cry because I hurt her feelings.

I see those lips move and she says, "You make me happy bestie." I exhale and know this is how I wanted to wake up today. Then, I hear a voice behind the door say, "Cutie pie! Come make your Grandad some tea and tell baby girl to make lemonade cuz sweet Ms. Lola will be coming today!"

I close my eyes, hear that giggle, exhale, feel that peck on my lips, knowing I also wanted more today, at least that ass sitting on my lap before dealing with Grandad and my brother, and hear that voice say, "Bestie, I have all week to annoy you because there's no school remember." I open my eyes, see that smile, nod, and she says, "So let's go so we can start this week with your mom's tea okay."

I exhale, know I might never be good with words, but she couldn't care less, and kiss those lips, looking forward to this week and that tea.

I hear him say, "Yeah. Got an e-mail from Fernando last night. He said march is happening a month after the women's march to make sure all the sisters and their support can join."

I exhale and say, "Good. Hopefully because of that support it'll get the exposure it needs to revive the ideology, but still, even with that." I exhale and hear him say, "I know bro. There's still lots of work." I nod, stop at the red light, and hear him say, "You finally got a reply from Cali?" I nod, see the green light, put my foot back on the gas pedal, and say, "Yeah. She said next month for the holidays to honor his family and his contributions to the community, even if it was only going through trashcans to recycle cans for money, that still shows character in a person." I hear him exhale and hear him say, "Wanted to ask what made you think 'bout the organization in Cali? That's way out of the fucken way, even if it started there."

I stop at the stop sign, look at the rearview mirror, and see those soft curls in that French braid again, the one she had last week that reminds me of how thick that hair will always be and how much I like it without any of those chemicals. I like it and I like nothing halfway. I look back at the road and put my foot back on the gas pedal.

I hear that snicker and hear him say, "How Jazzy know about the group in Cali? She been there?" I shake my head and say, "She looked up women of color and found one of organization's founders, that woman, Alicia Garza."

I hear him exhale and I say, "Keeps surprising me." I exhale, knowing only with him do I talk about women, and hear him say, "Yeah man. Same with my ass. Other day, helping organize some of her old books in their garage I found a shit load of books on the Caribbean and Latin America, on like everything and shit, the culture, the food, the people, maps, things to do there. Girl's obsessed with going there."

I feel my eyebrow rise, know my friend and how deep he falls, and ask, "You thinking about taking her?" I hear him exhale and hear him say, "Maybe, if she wants to. I mean shit, we stay together, might take her ass to both places after we graduate."

I feel my smirk, shake my head, and hear him say, "Shit. We probably all go, seeing as, unless some outside fucken Darth Vader asshole comes and fucks up the force, we all know what they worth and none of us taking off."

I exhale, stop at the red light with my blinker, look at the rearview mirror, and see my brother showing something to Hiro on his phone, wearing that jacket that Jazmine says her sister gave him, and see Lauren's hand on Hiro's shoulder, sitting behind him. I remember coming home from that costume party, where those hips wore those shorts, that my brother and Hiro sat in opposite seats. I feel my eyebrow rise seeing those two changed seats, possibly, as unlikely as it is, to sit in front of their girlfriends.

I exhale, look back at the road, make that left onto the street, hear the girls laughing, and I say, "Then we have to keep an eye out for assholes at that school and possibly every other damn place." I hear him cackle, feel my smirk, and hear him say, "Told your ass man, I ain't taking it back, best-looking ones, even that fucken pizza bitch man." I shake my head, pass the construction zone, hear that cackle, and feel my smirk get bigger, knowing he's right on his accurate description and knowing today, after that blonde braided afro, he is the closest thing I have to a best friend.

I stop at the stop sign, hear him say, "On the right man." I nod, drive up, and parallel park in front of the shelter, behind a truck from one of the companies we're expecting with those tables and chairs, ready for another one of these events, but this time with more responsibility on my shoulders.

I walk into the office, knowing she's right behind me with everyone else, look to my right, see Frank going through the drawer in the corner where the shelter's bills are kept, look to the left and exhale, seeing Mr. Willis sitting in that chair behind the desk rather than standing up.

I hear Frank say, "Huey." I look back at him, see him smile at me, and he says, "It's nice to see you. Been a long time." I nod and say, "It has been. What do we have so far?" I see him shake his head, still smiling at me, and he says, "You still the same with the seriousness. We have most of the food and twenty turkeys, but more is still coming. And we need to set up. You finally dating Jazzy?"

I see that long braid that reaches that lower back run around me, jump up, hug Frank, and hear her say, "Oh my god are you staying to help Frank?" I shake my head, walk over to the desk, hear Jazmine introducing everyone to Frank, see Mr. Willis look up at me with that smile, and he says, "We have enough to start with son and with God's help we'll be getting more food. Right now, we just need to start setting up how we want to serve and where the people will eat and you can figure that out." I nod and say, "Okay. We should also have the desk chair out there so you can sit while you talk to everyone and we take care of the rest."

I see him smile at me and remember Grandad's at home with Ms. Lola so he's not alone. I nod, exhale, and look down at the desk with copies of those flyers, preparing how we're going to set up to serve this year's Thanksgiving dinner, at this, the only shelter in a ten miles radius, knowing I had several plans worked out but knew those would change depending on the overabundance or lack of food and if any other people, other than my friends, would show up to help, calculating the numerous people that will be here, and the fact that we are shorthanded. I look over at my friends talking to Frank, Mr. Willis's only living son, knowing we'll need at least three people cutting up those birds, and force that reflex back down into my stomach, knowing I have to do this no matter how I feel about meat, how little significance this holiday carries, and how many people were actually killed during the settling of Europeans on this continent. I inhale. We also need several people serving the side dishes, deserts, and drinks, and of course, cleaning up. We're shorthanded. I hear Mr. Willis's voice call for Frank and see Frank walk up and around me. I exhale, look back down at the desk, go back to my planning, trying to divide the responsibilities among my friends, hearing the cane hitting the floor with Frank's steps next to him, know they're walking towards the door, remember we need to take that chair out for him, and hear Mr. Willis's voice say, "Wait Franky, gotta tell him something else. Son." I feel my eyebrow rise, look back at Mr. Willis, see him by the door with Frank's hand on his back, smiling at me, and he says, "I forgot to tell you that we have some more volunteers this year so don't you be worrying like you always do Howie."

I exhale, see him look forward, hear the cane hitting the floor, and look back down at the desk. I see the laptop on the desk, remember it's an old laptop, old by millennial standards, where I had to change the HDD to a solid state hard drive, giving it an additional few more months, possibly a year or two, of longevity. And, knowing Grandad told me once when I asked him what do you do when you can't do nothing but there's nothing you can do, he said to do what you can, even if it only means saving this place from having to buy a new laptop for a few more months or helping it get through another holiday season. I look up at my friends talking to each other, see those light forest greens looking at me in that lighter variation, and feel my smirk remembering she said I'm the coolest fighter she knows. And apparently, we have more volunteers this year. I see that smile and know I'll do what I can for this place and for the old man, older than Grandad, that runs it.

Then, I inhale, hearing that fucken idiot's voice say, "Yeah. We called to volunteer." I look over at the doorway, see Mr. Willis and Frank talking to that fucken idiot with that moron standing next to him and that girl. I close my eyes, inhale, open them, and feel that warm hand grab my own, knowing she is faster today than I give her credit. I see Mr. Willis smile at them, point in my direction, and he says, "You go talk to my boy over there and he'll tell you how you can help", before turning with Frank to continue walking down the hallway.

I see those three walk into the room, walk up to me, feel that hand squeeze my hand, see that fucken idiot stop two feet away from me, look up at me, and I say, "I don't fucken care why you're here, you do shit here, I will kill you."

I hear that screech say, "Huey, we only wanna help." I hear that exhale from my left and feel that squeeze in my hand. I feel his presence to my right and hear my brother say, "The fuck you doing here?" I exhale, trying to relax, knowing where we are, and the fact that I've already beating him this year, but will do it again, outside of this place. I hear Cindy's voice say, "Riles, we at the shelter and you can handle them, you know that shit, so just calm down a'ight." I hear my brother's exhale and wonder why exactly I'm dealing with this on our vacation from that damn school.

I hear Caesar's voice, next to Jazmine I assume, say, "Nothing happening here. They know anyone of us can fucken handle them. We're here to fucken help and that's what's gonna happen or we'll just make their asses leave."

I exhale, see that fucken idiot looking at me, and he says, "That's what we're fucken here for, to help and shit. What you want us to do?"

I inhale, knowing he's fucken lying and there are many people in this world that do everything with ulterior motives, unlike what that Jazmine head of hers thinks. That Jazmine head that I've been able to spend every day with since Sunday while I do more research, read through Black Against Empire, watched the news on events for different civil rights movements, and she read through a book she found in her mother's attic having to do with the history of the creole language, sitting on my lap or next to me on the couch, where I know she's the safest while that other imbecile hides somewhere in Woodcrest. That's how both she and her sister have spent their Thanksgiving vacation during the day, at our house with us, or us with them at theirs. I know Leo also has lunch with Sarah and stops by after he closes the shop to check on her. I don't know how much of that they've all enjoyed, if any, but I am selfish in the fact that it's made me content, whatever contentment means to me.

Then, because of that Jazmine head, I hear her voice say, "Okay, they said they're here to help, so that's what they're gonna do. If they have a problem with anything Huey tells them to do, they can deal with Mr. Willis who cares about this place too much to let any dumb problems happen here."

I hear that screech say, "Why you even talking? You're not in charge." I hear that exhale, squeeze her hand back, knowing she's finally starting to lose her infinite patience with this girl, and hear Ming's voice, somewhere where Cindy is, say, "She is you dumb bitch. As Huey's girlfriend, she's next in command hoe so don't start shit here and just fucken follow orders or anyone of us will drag you out by that hair that might or might not be real but will fucken hurt."

I hear that exhale next to me and hear her voice say, "I also don't care why you're all here. If you're gonna help, that's a good thing, and that's all we want you to do. So just help. We're going to have over five hundred people getting food here, not just the homeless, but families that need help and just want a warm meal for the holiday. So, just help them get that warm meal, nothing else. And if you're here for anything else, leave, we can figure things out without you guys because this is about helping other people."

I see that girl inhale and she says, "I don't need this. Let's just go Cairo." I exhale, close my eyes, knowing my friends are here and I don't have to keep my eyes on them, crack my neck, feeling that pressure leave my left shoulder, and hear that fucken idiot say, "Leave. Didn't tell your ass to come."

I open my eyes, feel my eyebrow rise, seeing that girl inhale, and see her look at Jazmine. I close my eyes, not wanting to deal with this when I should be planning.

I hear her voice say, "Look, we need to figure things out so you guys decide if you're staying or not. Huey." I open my eyes, look down at those forest greens that are looking up at me, and she says, "We need to plan. Who do you want to cut the turkeys?"

I feel my smirk and say, "Caes, Hiro, and myself." I look back at my brother, see him looking at that other fucken moron, and I say, "Riley." I see him look at me, see him exhale, and I say, "You're in charge of the lines, making sure they don't lead out onto the street, keeping everyone in order, and keeping those lines moving until everyone gets a second serving or we run out of food. You figure out how we can make sure everyone gets served once before they get back in line." I see his eyebrow rise, knowing I just gave him a job that's vital to ensuring everyone gets at least one meal, see that smirk that reminds me he's my idiot brother, and he says, "Yeah. I'll figure that shit out."

I look back at those three, see that girl looking away, and those two looking at me. I exhale and say, "If you stay, you're serving, like everyone else. I don't want any fucken complaining, just do it. If you don't like it, leave."

I turn towards those greens, see that small smile, that blush on that small nose, feel my eyebrow rise, thinking she might like me being in a position of power where I'm telling people what to do or maybe she just likes seeing me make changes happen, and feel my face getting warm. Focus Huey.

I clear my throat, look up at Hiro, see him standing next to his girlfriend that's holding onto his shoulder, and I say, "I know you can handle knives; you'll be the first in line to cut up the birds. Caes or I will take care of the pieces as you give them to us." I see him smirk and nod.

I look over at Caesar, see him looking at me with his eyebrow raised, and I say, "You know how to manage people. Deal with the workers from those companies that'll be bringing the tables and chairs. Three different companies. Start with the one that's here on time. I'll give you copies of the orders and you talk to them."

I see that smirk appear and he says, "I know bro cuz you might kill a few when they tell you they know where shit should go." I feel my eyebrows lower, hearing the snickering and cackles, remembering the barbecue at Aunt Cookie's and how I did almost kill one or two workers that were bringing in those rented grills and tables when they said they'd been at enough barbecues and knew where things should go. I exhale knowing it was only after she and her sister came out of the house that those workers started being less of the moronic idiots they were. It was only when she came out and blinked at me in that way she does when she seems happy that they all stopped arguing with me about where to put those damn grills. Those greens.

I look back down at them, see that blush covering those entire thirty-three freckles now, feel my face getting warm again, for no apparent reason, inhale, remember why we're here and I need to do what I can, and say, "Can you take care of the rest? We need to go out there and start setting up."

I see that smile, see her nod, remember her in that Santa hat and coat, that pink skirt, and those small black boots, when she was helping me with that play, know she's overqualified for the job I'm giving her, and she says, "Yes. We'll go through the storage room to see what food's already here, and between my sister and friends, we can figure what to bring out and who will serve which foods. You guys go set up."

I exhale, feel that damn pull on my face, remember the fucken morons that are here, look back at that idiot, see him still looking at me, and I say, "You two coming with us." I see him inhale and know he wanted to stay with her. Fucken idiot. I hear her voice say, "If you're gonna stay to help Ashley, follow us to the storage room."

I feel that small hand leave my own, hear her walk behind me, feel her touch my lower back, and hear those light steps walking out with her sister and friends. I look back down at that girl to see if she's going to follow them or if we're going to have to make sure she leaves before we lock this office. I see her look me up and I exhale, realizing she might not only be completely straight but nowhere near as aware as that Jazmine head is.

I hear Caesar's voice say, "Hu." I look over at him, see him looking at the desk, hear that girl exhale and steps walking out of the room. I see Caesar look up at me and he says, "Got the orders here. Let's go." I nod, look back at those two, and I say, "Decide. Now."

I see him inhale and nod. I exhale and say, "Then wait in the front." I see him squint his eyes at me, exhale, turn, and walk out of the room with that other fucken moron. I feel that slap on my back and hear Caesar say, "Can't wait to see how this fucken day ends man." I hear the cackles, exhale through my nose, see them walking up to the door, and shake my head.

I walk out after them and lock the office, knowing we don't keep money here, but we do keep paperwork, history, that's important to the shelter. I start walking down the hallway, see them walking out into the hangar where the front door is, hear that voice telling her friends about last year's Thanksgiving dinner, and exhale, remembering how we ran out of food without making sure everyone got at least one plate, and how some got more than two plates. I feel my smirk hearing her say they need to give small portions on the first serving to make sure everyone gets some food, thinking about those lips, remembering them this morning in her kitchen, when we were waiting for that water to boil because she wanted to make coffee for her mother before we left, holding those hips in those blue jeans in that material that's something between regular jeans and tights, tasting that tongue, feeling those hands in the back of my head making those webs, hearing her say my name, squeezing those hips, trying to remember if we had enough time to go back to my house, to my room, even if my friends were waiting in my living room, and then hearing her mother say good morning to me.

I feel my smirk getting bigger remembering that face and neck completely red, hearing her excuse herself to the restroom, watching her run up her staircase, and then looking down, knowing I was an idiot, forgetting where we were. I heard her mother's steps, exhaled, and sat down at their kitchen table, waiting for the inevitable, regardless of us having talked three months ago, but knowing I'm honest in my actions and need to remain accountable to them.

I heard the chair next to me move, inhaled, looked up at her, saw that smile that reminded me that Tom was a fucken idiot, and she said, "She'll eventually get over that embarrassment so don't worry about it too much. And." I saw her look down, smiling still, and she said, "You're all growing up into wonderful people and I know you're all responsible young adults so I don't worry." I saw her exhale and she continued, "And I know you all don't need me as much, but just know, I'll always be here, if any of you ever want to talk or need anything."

I inhaled, remembered her voice, as I do sometimes when I'm not expecting it, remembered realizing in Chicago why her smile made me nervous, what I will always miss, and that dish she remembered to bring me that night Caesar stayed over, and I said, "I." I saw her eyes look up at me, swallowed, and I said, "Probably won't be eating very much of anything at the event, so if you happen to go anywhere." I stopped and calculated they would not only be in the same age bracket but the same exact age and knew how much I tried ignoring that fact. I saw that smile that showed me, if biology is correct and environmental factors do not change significantly, that Jazmine would continue to be even more of what she is right now as we got older, and she said, "Of course Huey. I'll bring you a vegetarian dish no matter where we all have dinner tonight." I know I will always miss what I do not have, I understand that fact about my life, but maybe, asking her to bring me a vegetarian dish can be another beginning, another exchange.

I look up, know that voice is coming from the hallway I will be passing soon where the storage room is, and I exhale, hearing that voice, knowing what that feeling is, and how I will beat that fucken idiot again if he tries touching her, but first, I want to see those hips again. I reach that hallway, look down that corridor where I can hear that voice and her friends talking, knowing there's a low chance I'll see those hips and that soft braid at this angle, and exhale through my nose, seeing that girl leaning on the doorframe of the storage room. I see her look up from her phone, and I look forward, not wanting to deal with that before dealing with those two fucken idiots that are in front of the shelter right now.

Okay, we have lots of potato salad, garden salad, buttered brussels sprouts, green bean casserole, mashed potato, creamed corn, different styles of cranberry, white rice, lots and lots of bread rolls, stuffing for days, and that's just the side dishes.

I look over to the left, pass the other tables, and see my sister at the last table filled with desserts, cutting up another pie, with Lauren next to her putting those slices of pie on little plates. They're doing good and I know my sis can handle a knife. I feel my smile knowing she's not only my cuddle bunny sister, she's C-Murder, that hangs out with the Woodcrest mafia, and the strongest and prettiest girl I know.

I hear someone say, "Can I have some?" I look back down, smile, and say, "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Yes, do you want one or two scoops?" I see her lick her lips, feel my lips purse, know we need to stretch it out but, at least, right now, we have lots, and she's hungry.

I say, "Hey, don't say anything okay?" I see those brown eyes look up at me, that cute nose move, and see that smile, putting three scoops of stuffing on her plate. I see her move along to the next table towards the volunteers from some of the churches that donated and luckily stayed to help serve, see them put one scoop, see her smile up at them, I'm sure happy she's getting this food, but I can see she's not asking them for extra. I exhale, hopefully we get her another plate.

I hear her say, "You're so nice Jazmon." I exhale, see a man move along the line, and stand in front of me with his plate. I smile him and say, "Would you like one or two scoops sir?" I hear him say, "Wells. Two be nice." I nod, put two big scoops on his plate, see him smile, and move down the line.

I hear someone say, "Can I have some?" I hear her exhale, roll my eyes, trying to not slap her, and hear the slap of the food on the plate.

I see the girl move along the line, stand in front of me, see her look at me with pursed lips, I inhale, and say, "I promise we're just happy to be here and help out okay. Would you like one or two scoops?" I see her smile at me, give her two scoops, and see her move down the line.

I exhale and say, "I don't care what you call me Ashley, but be nice to them." I hear her exhale and hear that screech say, "Why? Already serving them. Why I gotta be nice to?"

I look over to see who's next in line, see an older lady, reminding me of Ms. Lola with those warm brown eyes, see her look up at Ashley, look down, and see her scoot up to me. I close my eyes, open them, smile, and say, "Would you like some creamed corn to? Please have some if you want some." I see her smile up at me with no teeth, smile back, turn, grab the ladle from her hand, hear her say, 'Hey!', serve the lady some of the creamed corn and then two scoops of the stuffing.

I hear Ashley say, "I don't even know why I'm doing this?" I exhale and hear Ming's voice say, "Cuz you a crazy bitch." I start laughing, hear the guy getting the mashed potatoes from Ming snicker, hear Ashley exhale, see the guy move up to Ashley, and I roll my eyes, grab the ladle again, serve him, and give him a scoop of the stuffing.

I hear Ming say, "Shit bitch, if you're gonna have Jazzy do your damn job, fucken leave."

I look over to see who's next and see a boy, ten years old maybe, looking up at Ming with his plate, blushing. I start laughing at how cute he's being and hear Ming say, "Hey cutie, you want some mashed potatoes?" I see him nod with his mouth open and laugh at his cuteness. Ming is super pretty.

I see him move up to Ashley, hear her exhale, and hear her say, "You want some little boy?"

I see the boy purse his lips, nod, and hear the slap of food on his plate. I shake my head, see him come up to me, smile, and say, "One or two scoops cutie?" I see him smile and put two scoops on his plate.

I hear Ashley say, "I don't get. I'm pretty, prettier than you two, so why don't they like me giving them their food, looking at me like that? I mean it's free and they should just be happy I'm here."

I feel my eyebrow rise, hear an inhale, look towards the front of Ming again, and see a girl, maybe a little older than the last boy, looking up at Ming, reminding me of that last boy, with her mouth open and blushing. I smile.

I hear Ming say, "One or two scoops girly?" I see that girl's blush go over her whole face, I giggle, trying to not embarrass her, and hear her say in a tiny voice, "Two please." I see Ming put those two scoops on her plate, see her move over to Ashley, and I hear Ashley say, "You know it isn't okay to like," feel my eyes get big, move over, pushing Ashley out of the way, hearing her curse, and I say, "Do you want some creamed corn?" I see her smile, nod, serve her the cream corn, and a scoop of stuffing.

After the girl moves down the line, I look back at Ashley, see her massaging her arm, and I say, "What is your problem?" I see her look at me, see her chin rise, and she says, "I saw how she looked at 'her,'" I feel my eyebrow rise, seeing Ming turn to look at Ashley, know she has lots of patience when it doesn't have to do with dumb girls trying to talk to Caesar, but even Ming has her limit, and hear Ashley say, "And it isn't okay to be liking girls. Best she knows now."

I feel my mouth open, look over at Ming, see her exhale, and she says, "You know what dumb bitch," but I cut her off with, "Mimi's", and motion to a teenager in front of Ming. I see Ming close her eyes, open her eyes, see her mouth, 'Thanks Jazzy', and see her turn to serve the boy.

I see that boy move up the line, hear the slap of food on his plate, see him move up to me, smile at him, see him look down, feeling my eyebrow rise, and I say, "Would you like one or two scoops?" I hear him say, "It's okay, I can have one." I exhale, remembering the people I've met that sleep here, how proud some of them are because they're doing the best they can and just had bad luck in life, and know they're trying to raise their kids that way.

I exhale and say, "Hey, what's your name?" I see him look up at me, see him blush, smile at how cute he's being, and he says, "Zari." I hear that screech say, "That sounds like," and hear Ming cut her off with, "None of your damn business. Damn, they're not talking to your ass, so just serve."

I feel my smirk, see that boy looking at me with that blush, and I say, "That's a cool name. You should be proud of it. So, Zari, do you really want one or do you want two scoops of this delicious stuffing?" I see him smile, feel my smile, and he says, "Two please." I nod, give him two scoops, and see him move down the line.

I look over at Ashley and see Ming on the other side, looking at me with those pursed lips and that raised eyebrow. I exhale and say, "Ashley." I see her look up at me from her phone and I say, "Why don't you just go? You don't wanna be here. You're being mean to people and even telling girls it's bad for them to like someone, whoever they like, when that's up to their parents. So." I exhale and hear Ming say, "You don't wanna be nice to these people, just fucken leave Ashley."

I see her inhale, looking at me, and she says, "You want me to leave so you can all have him to, specially you?" I close my eyes, exhale, turn back to the dishes of stuffing, look up and feel my smile seeing that afro next to Caesar and Hiro, cutting those turkeys, knowing he's going to need that tea as soon we're home. I know they put the ice chests next to them, where the people are supposed to get their drinks, and so the guys can get water and soda whenever they want, but specially so Huey can get water. My poor bestie. He's probably really sick right now.

I hear the slap of food, look up at a man, smile, and give him a scoop. I see that afro again and hear Ming's voice say, "You're so fucken stupid Ashley." I look back at Ming, see her smile at a woman, serve her, see the woman pass Ashley, and get to me. I ask her if she wants creamed corn, see her shake her head, and I give her two scoops of stuffing.

I hear Ashley's voice say, "Like I care what you think. You all only think you can talk to me like that cuz you have boyfriends that you know a lot girls want and you only got cuz you knew them before high school or they started dating you before they saw how many girls wanted them at school."

I look over, see Ming smile at a man, serve him, see the man come up to Ashley, hear the slap of food, scoot up to me, smile at him, and give him a scoop. I hear Ming exhale, look over at her, see her look over at me with that smile, know one of the reasons I think Caesar likes Ming is that confidence she has, see her look back at Ashley and she says, "Think whatever the fuck you want Ashley. Shit, you can even think we have them all under a fucken spell. None of us cares. But, think about this. If, that shit's true, that a bunch of hoes want them, it's because they are that damn cute, so why would Jazzy or any of my girls want that dick you wanna see? Really think about that shit hoe, then get back to us."

I laugh, see Ming smile at me that smile that reminds me of my sister, and hear someone say, "Miss?" I see Ming turn back to the table, see her serve another boy, see him blush, and I can't help but giggle. Then, I hear the slap of food on his plate, see him scoot up to me, smile at him, see his toothy grin, and give him two scoops.

I hear Ashley exhale and hear her whisper, "Because he's that hot and I know when you all get bored you're gonna want him." I feel my eyebrow rise, looking at Cairo and Dewey cleaning up the tables with one of the guys that takes care of the shelter at night, and remember the gossiping I can't even get away from in class about how some girls really do think he's hot. I see him look up, see him turn to us, and I look away and turn to Ming. I see her looking at me with that smirk and I can't help it and I start laughing again.

I hear Ming laughing with me and hear Ashley say, "Laugh. I don't care. Only reason I'm here is because of you anyways Jazmon." I open my eyes and see her looking down. I shake my head, turn back to the table, and see a women looking at the creamed corn. I exhale, grab the ladle, serve her, and then serve her a scoop of stuffing.

I hear Ming's voice say, "So you just said our guys have hoes that want them, but they're our guys, they only want us, and the reason you're here is somehow cuz of our Jazzy. Don't make sense, don't get it, and you're still a dumb bitch."

I snicker, hear the man in front of me snickering, and give him two scoops.

I hear Ashley exhale and hear her say, "He only talked about coming here after 5th period on Friday. You have 5th period with him Jazmon. And then, I show up and find your fat ass here."

I exhale, look up at Mr. Willis talking to some of the people in the organizations that donated the food, knowing I can't lunge myself at her, and hear Ming say, "Watch your mouth dumb bitch." I exhale, know I have to calm everyone down no matter how much patience my friend has, and I say, "Look, that makes no sense Ashley because I never talk to him in." I stop, look up at Cairo, feeling my mouth open, and here Ming say, "Jazzy?" I see him look over at me and I turn to Ming, see those dark big eyes, and I say, "Ms. Reed asked us to share what we were doing for Thanksgiving vacation in class on Friday."

I close my eyes and hear a tiny voice say, "Miss?" I open my eyes, turn back to the table, see a little girl with long black hair, smile at her, and I say, "Do you want one or two scoops pretty girl?" I see her smile, see that cute front tooth that's missing, and I give her two scoops.

I exhale, look up at the guys working with those knives, reminding me of an anime I heard about, 'Food Wars', smile at that afro swaying, and then feel sad, knowing he's probably a little more stressed because Cairo and Dewey are here. I exhale. Why did I say this is what I was doing for my vacation in class? I mean maybe Cairo and Dewey could be here because they want to volunteer, but, looking at them, and seeing Cairo look at me with that look he's giving me again, all the way from across the backyard, I exhale, and feel really bad for my bestie.

I hear Ming's voice say, "Jazzy." I smile, look over at her, see her smile at me, and she says, "Don't matter why they're here. Shit. We even got more hands to clean up. And we know, between my dreads helping set up, dealing with all the people, and your afro doing all that other stuff, they can handle those two being here."

I feel my smile, know I have to give her a big hug later, when we're not serving and say, "You're right Mimi's."

I turn back to the table, hear that slap of food, exhale, see a man scoot over in front of me, smile and I say, "Would you like one or two scoops sir?" I see him smile and I give him one scoop. Then, I hear that screech say, "So what? You're just okay with leading guys on like that? Having Huey and then talking about how much of a good person you want people to think you are in class by doing this type of stuff, knowing he was probably gonna follow you here? I guess what can you expect from someone with no class."

I exhale, hear Ming say, "Such a dumb bitch," and can't help but snicker.

Then, I see him walk in with two men behind him, passing the line, and walking up to Mr. Willis. I know he did donate but why would he be here when I'm sure he has other places he should be, like making sure his investments, like ten year old girls running lemonade stands, are making him money. I see that gray suite he's always in, wonder if he's even a little normal, and ever wears anything else, and hear that screech say, "Oh my god. Is that Ed Wuncler, the Ed Wuncler?"

I close my eyes, and hope Black Jesus, God, and Santa, are all listening when I pray that this day doesn't end like that last day of my lemonade stand.

Okay, everything seems okay, even good. Good for him being here and I'm sure trying to use this Thanksgiving dinner as a way to make money. I wonder how he's even making money being here.

I exhale, seeing Mr. Wuncler standing next to Mr. Willis and Frank, talking to the news reporter, and see Mr. Willis laugh with the pretty reporter. I haven't noticed until now, but he looks happy with Frank being here. I smile. Hopefully he'll be here for the holidays so Mr. Willis isn't so alone. I know he spends Thanksgiving and Christmas with his old secretary, Ms. Mary, and her family, but I'm sure he would like it if Frank lived here. And, I exhale, he calls my bestie Howie. He must miss both of his sons a lot.

I smell that lavender lotion, feel her head on my shoulder, feel my smile get bigger, and hear her whisper, "Mr. Willis looks happy that his son's here. And his son seems cool." I lean my head on hers and say, "Yeah. It would be nice if he lived here and I think him and his family live in Texas but Mr. Willis has to miss him." I hear her exhale and hear her whisper, "That's his only kid?" I exhale and say, "No, he had another son that died a long time ago." I exhale, remember that name he calls Huey, look over at him, and feel my small smile seeing him talking to the guys and Riley, taking that break I know they needed.

And, I can't believe Riley figured out how to make sure everyone got one plate of food before we all took our break to let everyone eat and then start serving again anyone that hasn't eaten. And, he figured how to do it, keep track of who ate and didn't eat, without it costing the shelter any money with like tickets. Just as smart as that warm brain, just chooses to not show it in his studies, but in his logic and his art, and he will be running multibillion-dollar companies one day. I feel my smile get bigger seeing Caesar laugh and hit Riley's back, still not really sure why guys are so rough with each other. Caes. He is really happy now. And Ming's right. Between that afro, those dreads, those nice cornrows I braided this morning, and Hiro's awesome knife skills, which I really don't want to know where he got from, those four can handle anything. And, I just remembered I wanted to do something when we had a break.

I stand up straight, feel her move away, put my arms around her waist, put my head on her shoulder, and say, "Thanks for what you said Mimi's. I felt really guilty about Cairo and Dewey showing up and then Huey being really stressed out." I smile seeing those Freeman eyes looking at me, feeling my cheeks getting warm, feel her hands on my arm that's over her waist, and hear her whisper, "You the big sis in our crew Jazzy and we need to take care of you and not let you feel guilty over dumb things that don't matter." I exhale, knowing I'm really lucky to have my friends and then I see Caesar hit Huey's back. I see those eyebrows lower over those red eyes, hear all the guys laughing from here, and can't help it and start laughing, hearing Ming laughing with me. They're all so cute, even if my bestie doesn't like when I call him that.

Then I see him stand in front of us, that evil smile, and he says, "So the rumors are true that Mr. Long-Dou's granddaughter, captain of the Wushung harmonious junior-senior kickball team who lost at that kickball tournament and the reason I didn't have to pay those debts to the Chinese, is living here where I own two thirds of all the properties, businesses, and the bank that owns this shelter."

I hear her inhale, feel her stand up straight, and move my hands away, knowing when it's about Ed Wuncler no one needs help defending themselves, even if she's cuddly inside with a hard exterior.

I see him smiling that evil smile that only Ed Wuncler has and hear Ming say, "That's right Mr. Wuncler, this is where we live now, even if you own everything, and I'm not part of that team and my parents aren't part of my grandfather's shady dealings." I feel my smile and then close my eyes hearing that screech say, "Hi Mr. Wuncler! My name is Ashley McNeil and my dad works for your oil," and I hear Mr. Wuncler say, "Where are your damn manners young lady? Didn't your parents teach you to only talk when you're addressed to like all girls your age should?"

I open my eyes, look over to my right, and feel my mouth open seeing Ashley's face red and possibly mad, maybe from embarrassment or just because she's mad, with her mouth closed.

I inhale, knowing I don't like people telling girls we shouldn't talk but mom's raising us to respect everyone unless they're being really rude and Mr. Wuncler is a lot of things, selfish, mean, a criminal, but he's not rude.

I look back up at him, see that evil smile again looking at Ming, and he says, "Now Ms. Long-Dou, I understand your parents and you aren't part of the associations I have with numerous Chinese corporations or your grandfather's dealings with me, but you Ms. Long-Dou could still have a bright future in the kickball business I have in China, as a head trainer or any other position you want, so what do you say about letting the past go and dealing with me directly?"

I feel my eyebrow rise and hear Ming say, "My answer is no. I play ball now cuz that's where it is and I'm damn good. So no Mr. Wuncler, I don't want dealings with you." I feel my smile and then feel confused seeing him smirk. I see him inhale and he says, "I did hear that you and that McPhearson girl are doing pretty damn well on that team at the high school named after my great grandfather that sits on a property I happen to own."

I hear Ming say, "That's right, Cin and the rest of the team are damn good and that team's the best one in this whole city and undefeated this season." I see him smile again, making me feel nervous, and he says, "Well then, if that's the case, I might just have to see about taking care of some other dealings with individuals that can't control their gambling addiction at one of those games."

I hear her inhale, grab her hand, remembering she's too similar to my little sister, and see Mr. Wuncler look at me. I see that smile, feel my eyes squint, trying to remember what mom says about being nice even when you don't feel like it because an evil man just said he's going to use your little sister's team to gamble, and he says, "Now Ms. Dubois, don't you worry, I have a proposition for you to."

I feel my eyebrow rise, see that evil smirk turn to me, and he says, "I've been told you started volunteering at the Woodcrest nursing home and you're doing well there. People say they even like you." I keep my mouth shut, hearing him trying to be nice and remembering when he used that voice to have me sign myself into child labor.

I exhale and say, "Yes Mr. Wuncler. I volunteer there after school. It's a nice place and I like it."

I see that evil smirk and he says, "Is it a nice place?" I inhale, feel her squeeze my hand, and exhale. He says, "I have an old friend that." He stops and I see his lips purse, look away with a serious look, and he says, "Stays there and they say you're a decent volunteer." I feel my eyebrow rise, knowing there are a lot of residents there and they're all nice, and feel my smile thinking they like me.

I see him exhale, look back at me with that serious look, and he says, "More of proposition, I need to ask you for a favor Ms. Dubois."

I feel that hand squeeze my hand, I blink, and say, "I'm sorry Mr. Wuncler, did you just say you need a favor from me?" I see him exhale, purse his lips, and says, "Yes I did Ms. Dubois, of course favors require payment, as all transactions do, and my lawyers can be here with the paperwork this afternoon if you want a contractual agreement."

I blink and say, "Mr. Wuncler I don't want another contract with you and really I don't need anything. If I can help, I'll try." I see him exhale and I wonder if he's getting frustrated with me. He says, "There is always a fee to pay Ms. Dubois. Now, I just need you to continue working there, doing whatever it is you do there, and continue being." I see him stop, see him exhale, he says, "Decent to a certain resident."

I feel her let go of my hand, feel that hand on my shoulder, I exhale, and say, "Mr. Wuncler, I'm gonna keep being nice to all the residents and I don't need any payment from you."

I see him inhale, see him lean back, raise his chin, and he says, "What if I offered to buy your agreement to that contract for the price of that little pony? What was his name, Sammy Davis Jr. the pony?"

I feel my mouth open, blink, and see that afro over Mr. Wuncler's shoulder, taking the trash bags outside to the big bins with Riley. I feel my smile, remember I still need to apologize to him for that day, look back at Mr. Wuncler, smile at him, and I say, "No Mr. Wuncler. If I ever want Sammy Davis Jr. I'll just have to pay that highway robbery price. But, I promise to be nice to all the residents."

I see him inhale looking at me and wonder how old Mr. Wuncler is. I know he's Ed's granddad so he has to be older than our Grandad, well my bestie and Riley's Grandad, and I don't remember Ed talking about his other granddad or his grandmas. I wonder if Mr. Wuncler is the only grandparent Ed still has. And, if Ed's other grandparents are no longer with us, I wonder how lonely that must make Mr. Wuncler, no matter how much money he has. And, whoever that old friend is has to be special to him to offer me that pony I think I still secretly want one day. I smile and say, "But." I see him exhale and I say, "If you tell me who that friend is, I promise to check on them, like I do with the residents that ask me to see them whenever I'm there and ask me to bring them their tea and coffee the way they like it."

I see him exhale and look away. After a few seconds, I see him inhale, look back at me, and he says, "You have a deal Ms. Dubois. I'll mail you the information seeing as there are too many ears here." I feel my eyebrow rise and see him look over where I think Ashley is standing.

I nod and say, "Okay, well, I don't go back until Monday." I see him look back at me, see that head and white hair that reminds me of Grandad, smile at him, see him exhale, and he says, "That's fine. They're being taken care of this week by top people but expect you to return when your school allows you to on Monday." I feel my mouth open, wondering how he knew I wasn't there this week, and wondering who's at the nursing home taking care of his friend.

I see him turn to Ming and he says, "Remember Ms. Long-Dou, the offer remains on the table, if you ever want to return to the kickball business." He turns to me, exhales, and he says, "And for what it's worth Ms. Dubois, I do know about the changes this year and if I was able to have him agree to letting that contract continue with a simple threat of old gangster shit, I'm not in the damn least surprised Robert's grandsons took care of running him out of town."

I feel my eyes open, wondering how much Mr. Wuncler knows, and he says, "Do not forget our agreement." I blink and nod because I don't know what else to do, see him turn around, see him take a step towards where the reporters and Mr. Willis are, then hear that screech say, "Mr. Wuncler I just wanted to introduce myself and really want to talk to your grandson about maybe us, you know maybe in a year, when I'm older, seeing," and feel my eyes open hearing him cut her off with, "Young lady." I see his shoulders move up, hear him exhale, and hear him say, "If my grandson is going to see anyone, you better believe it will be someone that either has a bright future in a sport that can further our success or is capable enough to take care of business and was raised knowing when to speak up to an adult."

I feel Ming put her arm around my shoulders and I lay my head on her, watching Mr. Wuncler walking away, knowing one of my best friends has a really bright future no matter if she keeps playing basketball or wants to play any other sport. And, did Mr. Wuncler just tell Ashley he wants Ed to date someone like Ming more than her? I look over at Ming, see her eyebrow is raised, see that smile, and start laughing with her. Oh my god, Black Jesus, or Santa.

Then I hear, "Jazzy." I stop laughing, look over, see Riley in his awesome jacket with those green markers in his pocket, and he says, "We starting. 'Member, check their right hand. You see that the 'x', they got food and gotta go outside and wait." I nod and hear Ming say, "But what if they washed that shit off?" I see him exhale and he says, "I knows but I didn't wanna use permanent shit. Ain't fair if they don't got a place to wash off, so give 'em food and we'll figure shit out." I feel my smile, knowing Riley thought about people not being able to wash off the 'x' he marked them with if they don't have a place to do it. Mom's right. He's a sweetheart. I see him exhale, look over to the entrance of the backyard where the line is supposed to form, and he says, "And we getting more food cuz of Ed's grandad so we'll be a'ight."

I feel my eyes get big and ask, "Really, where is it?" I see him look back at me, see the Riley Freeman smirk, and he says, "Same shit his hatering ass said. It be coming. When they get here, they'll be asking for you."

I smile, see him look over to Ashley I think, see his eyebrow rise, and he says, "I gots a girl. Chill the fuck out with looking all ova the fucken place." I exhale, see him look back at us, and he says, "I'll check their right hand but you'll do the same to make sure they ain't got an 'x'. I'ma be sending them in two's." I nod, see him turn back to the entrance, and see him start jogging over.

I feel Ming pull away and see her walk around Ashley to the first table with the different kinds of mashed potatoes. I look behind us at the tables with the extra side dishes we had to bring out here because the storage is filled with cooked turkeys we didn't want bugs getting to and at least the side dishes have covers. It's enough for another round of people to get their first plates. Hopefully Mr. Wuncler does bring lots of more food for the people. Maybe he's not that bad.

I hear that screech say, "How do you both know someone like him if you have no money or class?"

I exhale, turn around, and look down at the table. I should be okay to give a scoop to twenty more people and then I can get the next container of stuffing. I hear that voice say, "Don't ignore me."

I exhale, look over at the entrance of the backyard, see two people walking over to us, and I say, "I'm not ignoring you Ashley, I'm just not gonna answer you because it's a dumb question and anything I do tell you; you'll use to hurt my friends or me because you're a mean girl."

I hear her exhale and then hear Ming's voice say, "I'll tell your ass you don't know what fucken class is and you just fucken proved it by throwing your ass at the Wunclers. I mean, I thought you wanted that other dick you came here for, not the Wuncler's grandson. Confusing ass bitch."

I can't help and snicker, knowing my friend has a good point. I hear her inhale and hear that screech say, "I know what class is and I'm just keeping my options open for when I turn eighteen, like they told me to."

I look over at Ming, see her looking at Ashley, and then see Ming look up at me with that raised eyebrow. I purse my lips, shake my head, see Ming nod, and see her turn to serve the person in front of her. Then, I hear the slap of food, look forward, smile at the woman, look down at her hand, don't see an 'x', and serve her a scoop of stuffing. I see her move along and then see a boy, smile at him, don't see an 'x', and serve him two scoops.

I hear her exhale and she says, "I don't even know why I'm talking to you. You don't have to know anything about me. And anyways, I don't care what you think and I can have anyone I want. And he's hot enough until we're out of high school and then I have to get someone that has more money and class."

I feel my eyebrow rise, look over at Ming, and see her looking at me. I exhale, look back down at Ashley that's looking down at the creamed corn, and I say, "Why do you have to get someone with money? Why can't you just be with someone you like?"

I see her exhale and she says, "You don't get anything. My family has money and I know what I need to do, what they tell me to do, what she tells me to do, and she." I see her stop, see her turn to me, inhale, and see her look up at me with those eyes that are just not as beautiful as my mom's or my sisters and just look so cold. I see her inhale again and she says, "Mind your own damn business."

I exhale and hear Ming say, "If you don't wanna say shit about why you're such a bitch, why bring it up then? Talking about having to get someone with money after high school and then getting all fucken high and mighty, like we fucken forcing your ass to talk."

I see her exhale and see her look back down at her phone. I look up at Ming, see her shake her head at Ashley, and hear a girl's voice say, "Miss?" I see Ming turn around, see her smile, and serve the girl, and I turn back to the table waiting for that girl.

I exhale, waiting for her that girl, and remember a family, a family filled with mean people, wrong people, people that care about that stuff, money, class, and told their daughter that she needed to marry someone with more of it. I inhale and know, there might be a lot of bad people in this world, maybe even more bad people than I think, one that lived in our house until mom told him he wasn't welcomed anywhere near us.

I hear the slap of food, see the girl move over to me, smile at her, see those pretty dark blue eyes, not as ocean blue, but close, that remind me of my sister, don't see an 'x', and put two scoops on her plate. Those blue eyes, like my sister. My sister. I look over to the left at that last table and feel my smile, seeing my sister's pretty smile laughing with Lauren, reminding me that my sister, our friend that's making her laugh right now, and our other friend who's ten feet away from me who I can hear telling another little boy if he wants one or two scoops and is probably making him blush, are good people, and there are lots and lots of good people in this world. So many. And I can't let that person I grew up with, other people I've met, that family that was mean and cruel to my bestie and his brother, and this girl that cares about money and class and doesn't care about making girls feel bad because of who they like, make me think there's more bad people than good people. There are more good people than bad people in this world. And those are still the people I want to have in my life. And, the other people, the bad people, the wrong people, they don't matter.

I see the little boy move up in front of me, see he didn't get any creamed corn, see that dirt on his cute face that he probably got from playing in the park with other boys his age, and know he has to be hungry. I say, "Hold on cutie." I turn and see that she's looking at her phone. I exhale, lean over, grab the ladle from her hand, hear her curse, fill the ladle with the creamed corn, turn back around to the little boy, and put it on his plate, seeing him smile. Then, I put two scoops of the stuffing and see him move along to the next table. I think I forgot to check if he had an 'x' on his hand. I look back up at the entrance, see another woman holding a little boy's hand walking up to us, and see Riley behind them, standing by the entrance looking out, I think at the line, and know it doesn't matter if I checked that little boy's hand because we have lots of good people helping today and things always work out.

And, I think I want to give her another hug. I drop my scooper, turn, walk around Ashley, reach her, and hug her from behind. I hear her giggle, put my chin on her shoulder, and I say, "I'm happy you're here Mimi's." I feel her exhale and hear her whisper, "Love you Jazzy." I smile and whisper, "Love you Mimi's."

Yes, I know lots and lots of good people because there are so many in the world. I look up, see the woman with the little boy, see her smile at us, smile at her, and I let go of Ming. I walk around Ashley who's looking down at her phone, shake my head, and get back to my table, ready to serve creamed corn and stuffing, knowing more food is coming, things always work out, and there are so many good people in this world and at this shelter right now.

Women and the hugging. I shake my head and feel my smirk. And then I inhale, remembering why the hell I'm not out there, helping cut those pieces into portion size, and looking at those greens across the backyard. I ask him to do one damn thing that doesn't require supervision and he can't do it.

I walk in and see him leaning on the right wall, where he could only be seen if someone walked into the storage room, looking at his phone. I exhale, trying to relax, walk to the tables next to the adjacent wall, and I hear him say, "I was gonna get it nigga. Give me a fucken minute."

I inhale. Mr. Willis, the people that came to get that food, regardless of my disagreement with meat, those kids that wanted extra slices of that meat, my folk, and her. They're all affected in several ways if I beat him here. I exhale, grab the tray with the forty-third bird Hiro will be slicing open before giving the pieces to Caesar and myself, and I say, "You're not going to fucken help, leave."

I pull the tray and hear that fucken idiot say, "I ain't leaving and you ain't doing shit cuz your ass works at this shithole and you don't wanna destroy it crazy ass nigga." I exhale, put down the tray, turn, take those three steps, and stop, remembering this is where we spent two and a half hours a day on those weekends in eight grade when apparently, that idiot that's hiding somewhere in Woodcrest thought she was taking extra classes at school. That imbecile that is still the cause of some of her fear and grief, like many things she doesn't acknowledge, and I have to be ready to disable if he tries getting close to her or her family. I exhale, seeing that anger and fear in his eyes, remembering I have to be composed at all times, especially right now, where this fucken moron means nothing compared to the other one that's related to her and knows the legal field well. And, beating him here, creating chaos here, will not help in having me focus on what's important. I feel my temperature dropping.

I see him raise his chin and he says, "What I thought nigga. Won't do shit here. And, I ain't leaving till this shit ends. And I don't wanna do shit in here. Just keep me out there cleaning or whatever the fuck you want." I inhale, remembering those two and a half hours where she would sometimes use that whiny voice, and exhale, knowing why he wants to be out there. But she doesn't lie and she's told me what she wants, who she wants.

I inhale and turn around, knowing to not turn my back on fucken idiots, but he's a fucken idiot. I walk back to the table, grab the tray, and hear that idiot say, "You ain't shit Huey. You work at a fucken shelter, giving orders to volunteers, so stop acting like your ass is fucken better than anyone or me nigga cuz you ain't."

I feel the tray start to crumble in my hands and I say, "You don't fucken know me Cairo. So fuck you and what you think." I pull the tray towards me and hear that idiot say, "Just like when we were fucken kids. Always thinking your ass was fucken better cuz of your fucken money. And then, talking 'bout blacks and how fucked up we had it, saying how we gotta change it, when no one fucken cares asshole. No one cared what the fuck you and that nigga were saying at that museum or at school after your ass left, after they all found out your ass was sitting on fucken real money, and all them niggas knew you and your bitch ass brother left cuz you were moving up to whitecrest."

I inhale, let go of the tray, turn around, see that fucken idiot again, and I exhale, trying to relax before I punch him hard enough Mr. Willis will know something happened. I see that fucken smirk and he says, "What? Didn't know everyone, least those dumb bitches and niggas at school, found out 'bout that fucked up family?" I inhale, see that fucken smirk, and he says, "Shit, was only hard for a minute but after everyone knew 'bout that family and stopped talking 'bout your ass like you fucken knew shit I got 'nough fools to take your spot and they all fucken knew shit was better without you running your mouth and your money fake ass nigga."

I exhale. I couldn't care less who knows about that family, but I must always have as much information as possible. And at least now I know why those fucken idiots at the courts didn't look surprised when he said it because, outside of family, only the ones that care about that part of my life, that damn family and their money, would even remember my brother and I are connected to them. And, I couldn't care less who knows today. I inhale looking at that fucken smirk, knowing he is trying to test me today, and I need to remain composed, take action, if any, when I'm not close enough to killing him. I turn around, look at the bird in the tray, and exhale through my nose. Damn it. I don't care who knows about that family but I do give a shit about costing the shelter money. I look over, see the extra trays, walk over, grab one, turn, and see him looking at me with that fucken dumbass look that I need to beat again. I inhale, walk back to the table, put the extra tray next to one with the crumpled edges, and hear the idiot say, "That's why I made sure to not see your punk ass at school before your ass left. Knew you were fucken leaving, not even trying to stay, cuz you were too fucken good for the neighborhood."

I inhale, grab the crumpled tray with the bird, and wanting to shut him up, before I do beat him, I say, "You're a fucken idiot. I left because I was too fucken good for the neighborhood when there was no way for me to stay? And why the fuck would I want to stay with a piece of shit friend like you who could only get enough people to protect him by making me the fucken enemy because of a family I never talked to you backstabbing." I stop and exhale, remembering how I was raised or they tried raising me. I exhale longer, thinking about those two people that tried raising me well. She tried her best to raise us to be nice to people and he tried to be a Grandfather to us. Grandad. That flight to Chicago that first time back. I shake my head, knowing he was right about friends, some friends. I still don't know what Mo Jackson did to lose Grandad's trust because I mind my own damn business and I know they didn't settle things until one of them was dead, but I have a 'feeling', whatever that feeling is, that Mo didn't spew lies about Grandad at some school because that's the only way he could have idiots that couldn't think for themselves follow him. And it doesn't matter because I wasn't acquainted or remotely close to any of those kids at that school, other than my brother and Hiro who primary hung out with each other. Caesar I only saw on the weekends when, aside from those times when my brother and Hiro forced me out to the courts or I would go out to make sure they weren't causing any more trouble, I didn't think about that family.

I inhale looking at that forty-third bird Hiro will be slicing open before handing the pieces to Caesar who said he wanted to stand next to Hiro to eat pieces until he got his fill, which I told him was unsanitary but I can't stop him from doing anything, but more than likely pushed me out of the way so I wouldn't have to stand next to those birds knowing who I am. I exhale, they know who I am. And, they know I can only stand being close to and talking about cooked meat for so long before I can't keep pushing that reflex down. And back then, in Chicago, regardless of whether they knew it or not, when I hung out with my brother and those two was the only time I didn't think about that family. School, studying, doing anything, helped some, but after I found that letter about the court proceedings and had Grandad explain what 'insurance' and 'defendant' and even 'deceased' meant not only was I constantly thinking about that family, that woman, the reason my brother somehow got the idea he was the reason she didn't visit, not having known he had found some letters himself, but now I was also thinking about who that family was, the past they had. And because of that past, I felt a need to talk to someone about those thoughts, the overwhelming anger I felt. And so, I turned to the person I hung out with most at school, the person I considered a friend because we had used each other during several fights against groups of older kids, and told him about the court case, that family, that woman, what I found at the library about that family being involved in the depts of Chicago's criminal past. Even fucken library books had their name and how they somehow got out of each court case, each accusation, because of their money and influence. I trusted some back then and so I turned to them to know what to do, to have some kind of outlet for this hatred that was building. But after that, after finding out about all of that misery, that chaos they created, those double lives that family lived, where they looked proper and pristine on the outside but inside that house, the things that happened inside that house, that's all I could focus on. The things Grandad and Aunt Cookie talked about at night when they thought I was asleep. Those things we heard them talk about in the kitchen late at night, knowing my brother had also been awake when he threw another crying tantrum the next day, those things our mother told them because she trusted them, and because to people like Grandad and Aunt Cookie who had lived in Chicago for most of their lives those things were partially known, even to the police, who that family owned. So, I feel little guilt, if any, that I told this fucken idiot about that family because those things were already known to the old folk in Chicago. And it's no surprised he used that information after I left to get people to see me as different, someone that wasn't like them, because of that family, possibly even making him look like the victim when he was one of the fucken reasons I thought about that family so much.

I feel my eyes squint seeing the truth. Seeing him for what he is. I feel my hands let go of that tray, turn around, and see him. He didn't fucken help. He made it worse. I see him smirk, know I will be beating him again, and he says, "What nigga? You finally see you always gonna be a little bitch that thinks you better cuz of that fucken family?"

I inhale, exhale, inhale, feel my temperature dropping again, and I say, "If I fucken think I'm so much better because of them, then why the fuck was that all you ever talked about after I told your ass who they were? Why were you the one that always wanted to talk about their damn money, who the fuck they were, why I didn't want to ever meet them? Why you piece of shit did you always bring them up when I wasn't even thinking about them?"

I exhale. All of those times. All of those times I just wanted to hang out, talk about anything else, anything, to not think about them. All of those times I haven't thought about until now more than likely because he's a fucken idiot and I don't like thinking about fucken idiots. All of those times I chose to overlook because I considered him my friend, because we were in some classes together and at least in class he didn't ask about that family. I inhale. And the fact that after he stopped hanging out with us in front of that museum and then completely on the weekends, he only sought me out walking home from school so he wouldn't walk home alone. That's when I stupidly, as a naïve and emotionally unstable eight year old, thought he was my friend, possibly my best friend, and told him on one of those days we were walking home about that family and how much I hated them. Then, the next day at school, he showed up at the library during lunch, knowing that's where I would be, to tell me he wanted to hang out. I inhale. I am an idiot and I do not see things until they're right in front of me and I want to punch their teeth in.

I see him exhale and he says, "You don't know shit. You talked 'bout their asses." I close my eyes, exhale, open them, and say, "You're a fucken idiot if you think I'm that fucken blind to not see when I told you and when you started wanting to hang out at school. You were the only fucken idiot that cared, the one that asked, the only one of my friends that ever brought them up. You cared about that family, that money. You probably even thought in your fucken great thinking that being my friend you would get close to that money." I see his eyes get big, see him rise his chin again, I exhale, and continue, knowing this is where it ends, "And I don't fucken care who knows about that family and what was said when I left. You were a piece of shit friend back then, if you were even that, only looking for my ass after school because you wanted someone that knew how to fight and then only started wanting to hang out after you knew about the fucken money that means nothing to me and now, now you're just another fucken idiot. I don't even fucken care why you're here today. Just do what I say while you're here and off this property, unless it's fucken necessary, I don't want to see your face."

I exhale, know I'm grinding my teeth, and feel that pressure on my left shoulder. Shit. I close my eyes, crack that part of my shoulder again, and think about those hands on Saturday night. Those hands are outside. And, other than revealing how little of anything I've known until now about fucken idiots I thought were my friends, this is fucken pointless.

I open my eyes, see him inhale, know there's nothing he can tell me that's useful in anyway, turn around, exhale, knowing even if he doesn't let me, I'm replacing that extra tray I had to use, lift the crumpled tray, and place it in the extra one.

I grab both trays holding the bird now, turn around, see him standing there, know I can't deal with this shit right now, and that fucken stupid look, and he says, "I don't fucken care what you think 'bout my ass, you were fucken boring back then when I had to listen to your ass talking all that shit you didn't know nothing 'bout and you still a boring ass nigga that talks but won't change shit. And I couldn't give a flying fuck 'bout seeing your ugly ass here or at that fucken school. I'm here for damn one thing cuz I ain't fucken lucky like your ass that gets to see her whenever the fuck you want."

Shit. I close my eyes, trying to relax, know the two aluminum trays holding this bird will only hold it for three minutes at most and I could put it down on the table and beat him for saying anything about her, regardless of where we are, but they're waiting for this meat out there, and I can beat him when I come back.

I open my eyes, see the door, start walking towards it, and hear that fucken moron say, "And I'ma tell your ass right now, you can do whatever the fuck you want, you or your bitch ass friends, I'ma be 'round when she sees you ain't the shit you think you are and sees she deserves more cuz she is more, actually fucken cares 'bout shit just cuz she fucken does and don't think she's better, even if she looks the way she looks, she."

I take that step, knowing if I don't I will do something in the next two minutes I won't regret but will lead to damages to this room, and I hear him say, "She different. Different than those hoes in Chi-Town, them girls here. And she'll see that shit. She'll see what she deserves, that it ain't fucken you and that fucked up family, all that shit that follows their asses, cuz no matter what you say now nigga, you getting that money and the shit that come with it. And she don't want that. She don't want that fucked up family," but I cut him off saying, "But you fucken do. That's why we hung out right, because you wanted that fucken money?" I exhale, pushing that reflex down, holding this cooked bird, and I exhale, trying to not kill him, trying, partially because there's still some inkling in my mind, where thoughts, ideas, facts, and emotions come from, telling me he's right about her, about what she deserves.

But right now, I have another minute before this tray gives out, and I can still come back and beat him. I take another step towards the door and hear him say, "Back then, yeah, wanted that shit. But now, I'll get my own, and she'll see all the shit I do right now, the girls, reason I'm fucken here, that fucken program, it don't matter cuz I'd change for her." I exhale and hear him say, "No matter how much money that family got, you ain't better than my ass, shit, you're more of a piece of shit cuz at least I didn't wanna take off to this place, had to cuz the pigs knew who the fuck I was and the shit I did there, cuz I'm a real nigga, not a fake as pussy, and only a real nigga can take care of that ass."

I close my eyes, crack my neck, open them, turn around, walk over to the table, slide that tray, turn, and see his arms are up and he's ready. Good. I take those steps, see him square off, know one hit won't be enough after hearing everything, being reminded of people, scum that kill for money, and are willing to take boys from family that cares about them, being reminded about that place in my mind that will always be dark because I will never not be connected to them and it will follow me just like their past, and that same place in my mind where that past exists is only completely cleaned off, sanitized, when she places those hands on me, because he's right, he's right, and she is all those things, and I am one of those people that gives and takes for selfish reasons, like telling her the truth so she can find reasons to stay, and so, I will keep taking from her, because I am not good for her soul, even if I never believe in those because god isn't real, Shabazz is still in prison, my people continue to suffer even though slavery was abolished over one hundred and fifty years ago because racism is still real in this country, my parents are dead, my parents are fucken dead, she's going to leave when she realizes I've made her cry more than smile for too long, I was a fucken idiot as a kid to trust him and that's why I didn't have other friends, and the whiny voice likes the color of this room. Shit!

I hear the hit, feel the vibration in my knuckles, inhale feeling the hit to my side, feel my exhale through my chest, and see the anger and fear in those eyes. I inhale, feel my temperature rising, exhale, and hear a voice from my childhood say, "Hu! What the fuck man! You can't be doing that shit here!"

I feel my teeth grind, unable to stop it, see that fear turn into hate, and say the selfish truth, "Even if I never fucken deserve her, I'm not letting her go you piece of shit. She leaves if she ever wants to and you know nothing about her or what she wants or what she thinks because you've known her for two fucken entire months and I've known her for six fucken years. And, I don't fucken care where we are, you come near her, I will fucken kill you." I exhale, know I'm at that breaking point, see him raise his chin and he says, "Fuck you and what you say nigga, I'ma be in class with her and any other fucken time so I'm there when she sees how much you like that shitty fucked up family."

I inhale, feel that hand on my shoulder, and hear him say, "Hu. I know you man. You ain't this. Starting shit at a place like this. And whatever the fuck this fool said ain't true man. Focus man. Marches, that lady Garza, Caughman, taking them to Latin America, fuck, anything's better than thinking 'bout that. Shit, closest we talk about that is twenty-five from over the tracks, and that's fucken it, cuz anything close to that other shit don't matter." I inhale, knowing, he's not only right, he never asked, even when I did talk about that family and how much I hated them, actually hated them, he never asked. He didn't try to make me feel anyway about it either and never made it worse. And he never asked. After I was done telling him the one or two things I had found out about them, he would nod and stay quiet, something I only found out later was rare for him, and then he would ask me if I brought snacks for the bus ride to the museum or wherever we were going to hand out flyers because he ate his snacks on the way out of his house. I'm still an idiot, thinking I didn't have friends back then. And, I have those same friends today, the ones with sufficient character. The ones she calls 'good people'. I exhale and bring my hand back, know the kit's in the office and I'll have to use it to fix that wall before leaving today. Fuck. I'm tired from the people and the smell of meat and now these pointless few minutes that made me realize more than I wanted to think about today.

I hear him say, "Get the fuck outta here and go clean tables before I drag your ass out and don't fucken test me cuz I don't fucken lose nothing dragging you out since I don't work here and all that'll happen is that they kick my ass out to but dragging your ass with me would be fucken worth it." I see that fucken idiot that should be bleeding right now look over to my right, see him inhale, exhale, and after those four seconds he needs to figure out his fucken life, he looks to my left, and walks around me.

I hear the footsteps out the door, exhale, feel his hand leave my shoulder, turn around walking back to the bird, and hear him say, "Hu." I stop, exhale, and say, "Yeah." I hear him exhale, and he says, "Gotta tell you, 'bout that shit," but I cut him off with, "I know Caes," but even I hear the tiredness in my voice. I'm tired of this. Tired of being reminded of them, of how I'm connected to them. Reminded of them here by my own thoughts, by fucken idiots, or in Chicago by the fact that they exist. And, as selfish as it sounds, as much as it sounds like I'm throwing a tantrum I just don't want to do this shit anymore.

I hear him say, "But I never said thanks man." I feel my eyebrow rise, look back at him, see him smirking, and he says, "'Bout taking care of her that day. If it weren't for you and Riley, even though I'm pretty fucken sure Jazzy and Cin could've fucked him up with the moves they already knew, that asshole might've fucken touched her." I exhale, nod, and say, "You welcome." I turn back to the bird, feel that reflex coming up not having thought about it for several minutes, and remember, feeling the tiredness permeate with that now active reflex, and say, "And thank you for." I exhale and continue, "Pushing me out of the way." I take a step and hear him say, "Wells one your ass was 'bout to puke all over the fucken yard when they brought them out and two." I feel my eyebrow rise again, look back at him, see him looking away, serious, another rarity for him, and he says, "Still owe your ass for saving me from puking whenever the fuck I thought about that asshole, not asking me to keep talking 'bout him, just let my ass talk and say whatever the fuck I wanted to say."

I exhale, turn back to the bird, remembering those bus trips and several mile walks because we spent our money on food rather than saving it for the bus fare going home, and I say, "Thank you for never asking." I take that step, looking down at it and I hear him say, "What the fuck are friends for if it ain't to not ask 'bout shit that don't matter." I feel my smirk and exhale with the tiredness, fully accepting by my own standards he was a loyal friend back then, a loyal friend now, and my best friend based on our similar focuses and the fact that he doesn't annoy me as much as others do. But, the fact remains that the closest person to me, the one that has dealt with me and my asinine reasons for making her cry, dealt with those qualities from that family every day for weeks at a time, and calls herself my best friend has only heard those words from me a handful of times because I will always struggle with that dark place that tells me I am connected to that family, at least biologically, and how much I do not want to connect her to them. I feel my exhale longer, knowing I will struggle with those great qualities my entire life.

But right now, I need to find the energy I have always found to keep moving forward, do what is necessary, and not give into these self-deprecating thoughts, the ones I let control my emotions before I learned how to reel them in, the ones that were always just below the surface but I covered up with dealing with Grandad and Riley's attempts at leaving us destitute, the ones that are telling me the next logical step is to say 'fuck it' to all of it. Find a way. Push them down. Focus on that reflex, the sickness that comes with it, because it's cleaner than dealing with those thoughts. I look back at the bird, inhale, prepare myself to carry it back to the backyard, get through this day, and I hear him say, "And I gotta warn your ass." I exhale, look back, see him looking out the door, and he says, "They brought a shit load more food and turkeys." I inhale, remember what my brother said, know this is beneficial to the shelter and the people, that sickness will help me focus on moving forward, and I say, "Finally here. Where is it?"

I see him motion for me to look out the door, feel my eyebrow rise, walk over, look out, and inhale, seeing that soft braid, that purple sweater that's too tight to wear outside of my room but enjoy seeing her in, those blue pants showing me those thighs and legs that are too long for her body and are the reason I enjoy seeing her in shorts, and those purple converse because she likes matching even though I won't ever understand why women feel the need to match their clothing with their shoe color. I go back up, see that clip board in that small hand, go up to that face, and see her telling the mid-forty year old man something that looks like, 'yes sir, fifteen, yes sir, he's sixteen, really cute and really smart', feel my eyebrow rise with the tiredness of today after having those thoughts about that family that simple logic tells me I'm not connected to, the dark place in my mind that diminishes into a crevice when that shine in her eyes looks my way, not trying enough, not being enough because all I can do right now is give her the truth even though she's never made me feel less than what I am right now is enough for her, regardless of my views on souls and religion and the atrocities man has caused in its name, the hopeless even I sometimes feel about brother Shabazz, my people, my parents, my dead parents, and the tiredness after having those thoughts about how much I really did hurt her feelings, regardless of my selfish reasons of wanting to make her grow up, when that was always up to Sarah, leaving my body. And, I exhale, feeling that tiredness and tantrum I wanted to throw, saying 'fuck it' to it all, going home to get my journal and start the revolution to overthrow everything, leaving my body, and wonder how she does that, not only at this distance, but after having to deal with that fucken idiot and then all those thoughts. And then there's the fact that she doesn't hold any of that, any of those thoughts, against me. I see that smile and feel my smirk, knowing that tiredness, those thoughts, that want to say, 'fuck it', is completely gone, like that pain on Saturday night. Saturday night. Sunday morning. It's almost Saturday night. How does she do that just standing there in that sunlight in front of the shelter?

I hear him say, "That's why I came back here. Wanted to tell you Jazzy girl was talking to some of the guys 'bout what they brought and told her I was gonna tell you so we could figure where the fuck we were gonna put that much food." I exhale, see those greens focus back down on that clip board, writing whatever it is the driver, assuming by his uniform, is telling her.

I inhale and say, "We can move the birds over, use that table for however many will fit, place some on the lower shelves against the wall so anyone can reach them, and then we'll bring in the rest of the side dishes. Start with the larger items, the birds, make sure there's enough room for them first and then the other dishes can go around them."

I hear his inhale, feel the slap on my back, feel my eyebrows lower, and I hear him say, "That's what I'm saying man! Let's get all Super Saiyan on this shit! We can do this!" I look over at him, see that smile, I exhale, and say, "You're still watching that cartoon?" I see him shrug his shoulders and he says, "My bro's girl got my girl into that shit and we all watching it on Saturday nights when the girls stay over. It's an alright show."

I shake my head, can't help but smirk at his idiotism sometimes, and look back up, seeing those hips now walking down the hallway, feeling that energy she doesn't have to know she gives me with her presence, the energy I feel right now to reorganize this storage room to make more room for that food, go out there to help even if it means standing next to those birds, clean up afterwards, and then go home to have her sit over my legs on my bed, letting me feel that ass next to my leg, while I continue enjoying a week off from school for a holiday I do not agree with. I feel my smirk get bigger, knowing I enjoy things today, regardless of who that family is, those thoughts, that dark place, see those greens look up at me, and see that blush cover that nose. She's sitting on my lap tonight.

I feel that slap on my back, see her giggle from here, feeling my eyebrows lower, and say, "Caes." I hear that cackle, shake my head, and hear him say, "Just remember brother, don't try to figure all that shit out today. Just fucken be happy." I inhale, knowing he's right again, even if I am, right now, trying to decipher, understand, the difference between happiness and contentment, what kind of person I am, if I will ever truly feel disconnected from that family, what, if anything, I deserve, and hear him say, "And, stop fucken worrying about any of that shit, cuz we don't talk about it, deal with that shit, unless that shit or some fucken Darth Vader is in front of us and we gotta handle, cuz unless it's fucken here, it don't matter."

I exhale, see her say something like, 'Yes sir, Mr. Willis, Huey and me, handle anything,' remember that's what she said the night before she met my parents, and know she doesn't have to know she's also right about that. I inhale and say, "Let's go Caes." I feel him next to me, walk towards those hips, knowing what I want is to meet her halfway, and I can deal with the rest when it's in front of me, and if I can make it happen, holding those hips.

I hear that voice say, "Really, I'm okay with it because I'm there to volunteer and be nice and helpful to the residents and if I can be nice to another person there, taking them their coffee or tea the way I know they like it, like I do with some of the residents already, I'll try." I exhale and feel that heart on my stomach, knowing the day is over and she's drawing. She must not be worried. I grab the control, change the channel from CNN, which was as informative as it always is, back to local news, place the control back on the nightstand, remember that second cup she made that's on the nightstand is empty, and hear her say, "I just told him no payment and no contract." I feel my smirk, lean back on the headboard, bringing in those hips, and exhale, remembering I also wanted to ask, and say, "And that girl?"

I feel that star on my stomach and hear her say, "She wasn't that bad bestie, just, rude again." I exhale, knowing that's good enough, hear those news anchors interrupting each other with their opinion on the upcoming elections, and I say, "Long as I didn't have to deal with that problem."

I hear that giggle, look down at that hair she no longer has in that braid and I can feel on my arm, feel my smirk again, and hear her say, "She's not a problem bestie. She's just, you know, maybe lost a little." I exhale. That unrealistic optimism. I look back up at the news report, listening to those idiots, and know the only way for me to know what is really happening is to research on my own and possibly not waste my time on watching these reports as much.

I hear that voice say, "Did you have fun today?" I feel my eyebrow rise and say, "You consider that fun Jazmine?" I hear her say, "I do, hanging out with friends and then coming home to be with everyone at home, but I know you consider fun helping people, doing those things that help other people be happy."

I exhale, know her unrealistic optimism has no limit, and say, "I work there Jazmine. I had to be there. And I hardly think giving people food for one day made them anything close to happy, possibly gave them one less stress to worry about, but nothing more." I hear that exhale, feel her stop drawing on my stomach, look down, and hear her say in that whiny voice, "You don't see it Huey. You were there because you wanted to be there and you knew Frank was gonna be there and he could help Mr. Willis. And I know Mr. Willis told you, you didn't have to be there."

I feel both eyebrows rise and say, "How did," and hear her say, "It's Mr. Willis!" I feel that head move, and see her sit up, looking at the news report. I look up at the screen and see Mr. Willis. I exhale seeing him in that seat, next to Frank and Ed Wuncler, at the shelter earlier today. I still have some of that material I used to replace the cushion on Grandad's recliner.

I hear the news anchor say, "And there you have it, today at the downtown Woodcrest shelter, where between a handful of volunteers under the extraordinary leadership of Mr. James Willis, who has been helping the homeless and anyone needing a place to stay for the night for over fifty years, fed almost six hundred people today on Thanksgiving day." At least he's getting the recognition he deserves. I hear that voice next to me say, "He looks so happy bestie." I hear another anchor say, "And of course we must recognize the contribution Mr. Ed Wuncler gave today with over one third of the food donated, along with of course other organizations, churches, and good Samaritans." I exhale, knowing those reporters hardly ever look at the numbers, facts, spreadsheets of any kind.

I hear that voice say, "It was nice of Mr. Wuncler but it was more like a quarter of the turkeys and some side dishes." I inhale, feel her lay back down on my chest, letting me continue holding those hips, and I say, "And how do you know that and the fact that I did not actually have to be there today?"

I feel that circle on my stomach, feel my exhale with it, and focus on the news report, going back to the upcoming elections, the candidates and their opinions on the state of the economy, those debates that have been nothing but a circus of idiots that do not know the difference between socialism and Marxism and the importance of unions, something I was able explain to a teenager working at a theater on the worse day of her life. That day I noticed the color of those lips the first time. Those lips that know I did not have to be there today.

I inhale and say, "Jazmine." I hear that exhale, feel her head move on my chest as I see pictures of the shelter today and some of those kids, and luckily, only a few of her and her friends. I hear that voice say, "Remember bestie I helped bringing in the turkeys at the beginning and counted them to make sure we knew when we were gonna run out and then told Caes and Hiro so they could keep reminding you because I knew you were gonna not feel okay and were going to be doing a lot of other things so you might forget how many we had."

I exhale, squeeze that hip, hear her giggle, and say, "And how did you know I did not have to be there today?" I hear that voice say, "Frank was talking to us for a little and he said it was nice that you came even though Mr. Willis told you, you didn't have to be there because he wanted you to have a week off of school and work. I told him that we volunteer every year and this year it was gonna be even better because our friends were helping to so I knew you would want to be there. Then Frank said that that was really nice of us and specially you because you bestie, you were not gonna get paid for today because you weren't supposed to be there. And." I close my eyes, exhale the annoyance through my nose, feel those hips moving out of hand, that small hand move my left hand over, feel that place next to me move down with some weight, open my eyes, and see that smile. I see those lips move and she says, "And Frank said that if it wasn't for you being there Mr. Willis was gonna have to hire someone to help setting up everything and telling the volunteers what to do because Ms. Mary used to do all of that."

I exhale again, see her giggle, and move up, finally tasting those lips. I hear her inhale, taste that tea on those lips, and start wondering the difference between contentment and happiness again and whether there's even a damn difference.

I move back, knowing we can't go any further, see those eyes open, remembering it's only at these times that I speak this much about anything, ask these specific questions, that do not have to do with my focus, and ask, "What did I say about calling me that and why was that even necessary?"

I see those eyes blink, open enough I can see the entire circular green, see her smile with that tint on that nose, and she says, "Do I need to start covering my mouth when I talk so you don't lip read everything I say about you?" I feel my eyebrow rise. How much does she still talk about me? And why the hell is my face getting warm? I see her giggle, exhale, and say, "Jazmine."

I feel those lips, remembering she's faster now than she used to be, feel her move away, and she says, "His name is Mr. Lawrence and he said he remembered me because he was one of the people that Mr. Wuncler hired to bring the stuff they used to set up my lemonade stand." I exhale, deeper this time, see her smile, and she says, "Yes I know bestie. When you saved me from child labor. Now." She stops, inhales, and says, "We were talking about that and then he asked me how my lemonade stand ended up on fire." I feel my smirk, see that small one appear on those lips, and she says, "So I told him how my best friend showed up with a bunch of people to protest child labor being used at my stand and how of course Mr. Wuncler had no idea about child labor being used there." I see that smile, shake my head, and she says, "And then he told me he didn't know another girl that at ten years old had such a big business." I see that smile again, that tint expand, know there are many reasons I took down those pictures from that costume party, but one of them is she doesn't like exposure as much as that imbecile did, along with unwarranted flirtation, and has not been comfortable with people asking about her accomplishments for years now. I exhale. I've known her for years and aside from that unrealistic optimism and naivete she had as a girl; she doesn't annoy me. I inhale. Shit. And, she doesn't see or possibly can't see how many of those idiots, males and females, look at her at school and outside of school, regardless of those online pictures from that costume party and now those pictures from the event today.

I exhale, remember where we are, put my hand on that hip, see her inhale, and I say, "And how does that have anything to do with you needing to call me that?" I'm starting to feel this is a pointless conversation because it won't lead to anything beneficial to my goals, but I don't lie to myself. I like to hear her talk.

I see her smile and she says, "Well after that he said that I had to be really capable to run a lemonade stand by myself and I'm probably even more now that I'm older and." I see her stop, see her look away, and see her inhale. I squeeze that hip and she says, "He wanted to introduce me to his son who he said needed a capable girl that would make him stop being so lazy and." I inhale, feel that warm hand on top of the one that's holding that hip, and she says, "I would probably help him get better grades in his classes and he might want to get a job to take out such." I see her exhale, see those eyes focus on that pillow, and she says, "A pretty girl." I exhale. You're not just pretty.

I see her look back at me with those focused eyes and she says, "I know he was trying to be nice telling me all that stuff but I don't like men his age telling me I'm a pretty girl and that's when I stopped him, thanked him for that, and told him I have a boyfriend. Then." I see her exhale and she says, "He asked me about my boyfriend and I told him the truth."

I exhale, feeling my temperature at the normal degree, and I say, without thinking, "Why don't you like." I stop, inhale, know this is a pointless question, I should be checking my e-mails even though more than likely because it's a holiday I won't have any replies, see that smile, and she says, "I don't like it because it feels weird that a man that could be my dad's." I inhale, feel that hand squeeze mine, and she says, "His age even sees what I look like and." I see her exhale and she says, "I know you've seen other girls, prettier girls and." I feel my mouth open, confused yet again, and she says, "As long as I'm pretty enough for you then I'm okay with how I look and I don't need people telling me I'm pretty."

I see that smile and before I can tell her there is no logic in that Jazmine head, I see her move in, feel that kiss on my top lip, close my mouth, and taste that tea on those lips again. I close my eyes, know what I want but it's not Saturday. It's not Saturday. Control it Huey. Control it. I inhale and push those hips away.

I exhale, open my eyes, see that confused look on that face, and I say, "Jazmine." I see that small smile, see her nod, and she says, "Sorry bestie. I know. Saturday night. It's just." I see her exhale and she says, "I'm really happy with today. Everything was really nice and we got to meet some really cool kids and hung out with our friends and then came home to hang out with mom, my sister, Riley, Grandad, Leo and the guys and even Ms. Lola. It can't get any better." Yes it can. You could sleep over. I close my eyes. When did I start being optimistic? She's getting to me.

I open my eyes, see that smile, wonder if that god has been laughing at my expense most of the day, and has made it so she somehow knows what I was just thinking. I see that tint and I hear her whisper, "Saturday night's almost here okay." I exhale, feel those hips I'm still holding, and wonder if she can stay late tonight before I walk her home. I'll have to ask Sarah. I exhale. She'll be alone tonight if they don't sleep at their house. She's already been home alone for half an hour. And that imbecile is still hiding somewhere in Woodcrest. And regardless of the alarm system, the cameras, the fact that she'll be across the street, that Jazmine head will still worry. I inhale, know what needs to be done, regardless of what I want, and I say, "I should walk you home."

I see her nod, feel that hand leave my own, and, trying to focus on anything but pulling her back down, I look up at the screen, and hear an anchor say, "And just look at all those wonderful volunteers today. To think there are still such young people out there willing to take hours out of their vacation from school to volunteer at a shelter." I inhale, feeling that ass sit next to my leg, watching the news with me, and hear another anchor say, "Some good looking young people there to if I do say so myself." I feel my eyebrow rise, exhale, feel that warm hand on my leg, and hear the other anchor say, "Bret you do know most of those volunteers are teenagers right?" I inhale, knowing this is the only news report that goes over local news for this city, and will have to continue fact checking what they report. I see that idiot anchor say, "Well, we're not sure how old they are and I'm just stating the obvious, especially those volunteers serving those side dishes and those deserts." Fucken idiot. Now I'm going to have to include another letter about these idiots they hire as anchors within my monthly letters to the governor's office when I write about releasing Shabazz based on the fact that he's innocent. I feel that squeeze on my leg and exhale.

I hear another anchor say, "Well what matters is that those volunteers were there." I see the screen go over to the weather reporter, possibly trying to save her coworker from being more of an idiot, and she says, "What matters is that so many good people were there to help today." I hear that voice says, "God. That is what matters. Creepy anchor." I feel my smirk and hear her say, "There were so many good people there today. Mr. Willis, Frank, all of those volunteers that stayed so they could help and didn't just drop off the food. And then all of our friends and my boyfriend." I inhale, looking at that drawer under the TV, and hear a phone vibrate.

I see those hips stand, see her grab that small yellow phone off the small drawer, see her read the text, and I start getting up, knowing it's time. And, it's almost Saturday night. In the meantime, I have plenty of research, e-mails to send, and facts and dates I need to add to the last letter I started working on to send to the governor's office.

I feel that hand on my leg, look over at that hair, hear that giggle, and say, "Jazmine?" I see her turn with that smile, see her hand me that phone, and I grab it and read the text, not being able to stop my smirk.

I feel that triangle on my chest. The symbol of many organizations, secret and known ones. I haven't looked into the recent activities of the illuminati. I exhale, knowing they exists but many do not want to believe they do because they do not want to accept such an organization could have as much influence and power over the European continent as they have. What people do not understand is that there is no logical reason to not expose those activities. Maybe then, when they realize how constructed Europe's history is, how much happened because of that organization, they'll start to realize just how European-central history really is and that there are other ways to view, understand, analyze history, viewed from the perspective of other people, like Africans that have their own history, their own kings, monarchs, pharaohs that need to be analyzed as their own history, within their own contexts, and not just how that history came before or after European history, which is young compared to Africa's and Asia's history.

I exhale, wondering if she wants to visit any place outside of this country, grab that hand that was drawing on my chest, over that organ, squeeze that small hand into that fist that reminds me she can throw a proper right punch today, and I hear her say, "Thank you bestie." I feel my eyebrow rise and say, "Jazmine?" I feel those breast push up, inhale, know we're both tired no matter what my body thinks it wants, and I hear her say, "Thank you for everything today. You know, for everything you did at the shelter and then letting me sleep over even though it's not Saturday."

I exhale and say, "Your mother said she would be fine so long as she could have you both tomorrow. I don't see how I let you do anything, let alone sleep over, when you were already here, and it was easier for you to stay than having us both get ready to walk you home." I inhale, knowing I could've said that differently but I'm not good with words or telling her I wanted her to stay. Damn it to hell.

I swallow, knowing this is who I am, and hear her say, "Yeah I'm happy Leo's staying over, well our pops." I hear that giggle, exhale hearing it, and hear her say, "And I saw that cute smirk on you so I think you were happy I could sleep over."

And I feel that smirk right now. Damn it and how she does any of that. I hear her say, "And it's good I'm sleeping over because I wanted to tell you something that I almost didn't have time to tell you, something I was thinking about today." I feel my eyebrow rise and hear her say, "I wanted to tell you you're a really good person Huey." I inhale, focus on the dark place in my mind, the one that's as dense as pyramids in the continent where humanity began and as wide as the Great Wall of China where technology was furthermore advance than any other place in the world for centuries. But these are facts that people do not want to acknowledge because it doesn't fit into their set ideals, like what that soft afro thinks I am.

I hear that voice say, "Your temperature went up a little. Why?" I inhale, knowing we're not having this conversation, and say, "I'm tired." I hear her whisper, "Huey, do you think you're a good person?" I inhale and say, "Jazmine, it's late."

I exhale, put my face in the pillow, inhale, and hear that voice whisper, "Well, if you don't think you are, I do, and I know you through and through." I open my eyes, focus on that dark wall, that damn dark wall, inhale, feel it rising, and say, "And what do you know Jazmine? What you saw in Chicago when I couldn't visit my parents' grave on my own, the fact that I did not leave that house for anything outside of what was necessary because I didn't want to see any of them or might have killed them, the fact that I acted like them, only leaving to the outside world when I needed it, when it was in my best interest, not anyone else's, that I'm just as pessimistic and fucked up like all of them and it will never change, never," and stop, feeling that hand slide out of mine and those breasts move away. I close my eyes. Fuck. Why? Why do I do this to her? I exhale, know this is how it will always be and I was right, I was right. Solitude was, and stop, feeling that pull on my shoulder, my back on the bed, see those greens over me, and feel that warm leg go over me.

I inhale and close my eyes, feeling her over my thighs, being reminded of last week too damn much. I exhale and say, feeling the shaking, "I can't do this right now Jazmine. I'll walk you home." I feel those hands on my face, over my cheeks, and hear her say, "Huey open your eyes." I inhale, knowing I'm not a coward. Then open your fucken eyes. Open them. But, I feel that 'feeling' again I've felt with her too many times. Too many. That feeling of guilt.

I smell that breath, swallow, and hear that voice whisper over my face, "Huey, I know you through and through. I know you're AB-negative blood type even though I don't really know how that works, I know your left foot is a little bigger than your right foot, same with your left hand, I know you were a Black Belt ninja when you turned ten, before you even moved here, and now you're probably the best fighter in this whole state, I know you're braver than whatever's going on in your head, and I know if you let me, please, please, I can help."

I feel the shacking, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, and hear that voice say, "I know who your grandad is, who your little brother is, where your humor and stance comes from and where your good looks come from now for sure." I exhale, feeling my smirk, hear that giggle, feel that kiss, and wonder when she became so stubborn.

I open my eyes, see those greens, and that smile illuminated by the moonlight. I exhale, knowing she's right but her unrealistic optimism has no bounds. I see that smirk, know she won, and say the truth, "I like nothing halfway and when did you become so stubborn?"

I see that smile in this dark room and I hear her say, "I'm not stubborn, I'm just Jazzy."

I inhale, remembering today's events, how much some of those events did matter some, how much some did not matter at all, and how much more important other things are. And what she did today just being Jazmine. I exhale, know it's been more than half a minute, she's fidgeted some, but hasn't tried to get off of me, she's looking down at my stomach, and drawing like she always does. She's waited, giving me the opportunity to gather my thoughts, like she did when she would go home after I made her cry and would come back the next day with that big hair and big eyes so I could fix it all. Never with the insult, just a hug. Just giving me a day to think things through, analyze them, and then coming back with that hug.

I exhale and say, "There were some." I stop, trying to find the right words, see those eyes look up at me, and I say, "Things I thought about today and I lashed out at the wrong person but I'm fine." I see those eyes focus, know the question, berating myself for letting her get that close, and I hear her say, "Why did you think about bad things at a place like the shelter and what did you think about?" I inhale, know I could grab those thighs, put her over my shoulder and carry her to her house so I can end this conversation, but instead I do nothing, because that's as close as I can get to asking for what I need.

She gives me those seven seconds, see her exhale, and I hear her say, "Okay. I won't push you, but why did you think about those things?" I exhale, see those full lips purse, see that optimism in those eyes, and hear her say, "Okay, let's start with facts. We all went to the shelter, it was a good day, we helped everyone eat at least two plates of food because of Riley's smartness." I see her stop, feel my smirk at her description of my brother's ability to coordinate the amount of servings everyone would get, see those greens look up behind me at the wall, and hear her say, "And I know Caes and Hiro helped so you wouldn't get sick and then you had help with the cleaning and." I see her stop, look down, and I exhale.

I see those eyes squint at me and she says, "Wait. When I was talking to Mr. Lawrence I saw Cairo come out." I see her eyes open and she says, "What did that jerk say to you!" I inhale and say, "Jazmine." I see her put that hand over her mouth, hear her start to apologize, and I say, "Hand over mouth, can't understand." I see her move that hand away, see those dark pink lips pursed, hear her exhale, and she says, "Sorry. But what did that jerk say?"

I exhale, know I'm tired, tired from today, tired from that family that that asshole doesn't have to remind me of to feel the weight of their bloody trail, the weight that I want to discard one day, want to, but wanting something is completely different from what's possible. I feel those hands on my cheeks, exhale longer, put my hands on those thighs, know there's no better feeling of my hands there because I'm selfish and touching her where no one ever has, as chauvinistic as that is, makes me feel clean. But even, as insignificant as they should be, those hugs, the hands on my face right now, and that hope I see in those eyes makes me feel not only clean but like I'm not supposed to just dissect the world, tell them it's wrong and they're all wrong, I'm supposed to do more. And, as much as she knows, she doesn't know I don't want to fight it all by myself anymore. I haven't wanted to for some time, which is why I opened that door for her and let her in. And, if I want her to continue by my side, I have to start with the entire truth, as stupid as it sounds. She deserves that consideration.

I exhale, focus on those lips, and say, "He said the truth. He reminded me that I was an idiot as a kid by trusting him, telling him about that family, that I will forever be connected to them at least by blood and the moment I turn eighteen I will be eligible to receive that money that's tainted with blood and people's lives." I hear her inhale, move my hands over those thighs, and I hear her say, "They won't look for you right?" I exhale and say, "No." I see her exhale, feel my smirk, and I say, "It would be detrimental to them if they looked for me seeing as they want to keep that wealth and I could fight them for it."

I see that face come back down, feel those lips on me, exhale knowing she's fine, kiss her back, feel her move away, and she says, "Good." I feel my smirk, shake my head, and I hear her say, "But that jerk's wrong about everything else."

I feel my eyebrow rise and say, "How, if it's logical?" I see that smile, feel those hands leave my face, feel them go over my hands on top of those thighs, those fingers go between my own, and I hear her say, "Because Huey, trusting someone when we're kids is what we're supposed to do, it's not an." I hear that exhale, see her look away, shake my head, and hear her say, "An idiot thing to do." I see those eyes look back at me and hear her say, "We trust people, especially when we're kids and you told him stuff because you needed to talk about it or knowing you, you might've exploded." I feel my other eyebrow rise, trying to focus on the conversation and not on the warmth I feel knowing she knew that, and I say, "Regardless of my emotional instability, I should've seen him as some other idiot I knew at that school instead of telling him about that family and then he." I inhale and know I was an idiot even if I do not care who knows. I see those greens blink and hear her say, "Bestie, you trusted someone, who I think is a jerk, and what were you gonna say that he did?"

I exhale, look away, feel that hand leave mine, feel it on my cheek, feel her turn my face to her, see her lean down, focus on that precise green, and hear her whisper, "Don't close up Huey. I'm not going anywhere no matter what you tell me so please, tell me what he did."

I'm tired, but I'm tired of idiots, not her. I exhale and say, "He used it to make me seem like the enemy to those other kids at that school because I was different, I was not like them because of money that I've never touched, and that way they could feel sorry for that idiot and follow him out of having a common enemy who was no longer there because I had done what some blacks want to hate other blacks for, moving out of the neighborhood because they made it big, regardless of how they made it out, and were now better than their old neighborhood." I exhale, know there's some truth to blacks moving to whiter neighborhoods when they can afford it but what people do not understand is that it usually has to do with wanting to get away from the violence, the drugs, and then, when it's possible for them, coming back to invest in that neighborhood, either through purchasing property or investing in more significant ways, like going into politics and trying to change the system from the inside.

I hear her say, "He doesn't know you, none of that makes sense because it's you, and he's just really dumb." I feel my eyebrow rise, see her sit up and look away, and hear her say, "And I wanted to say I'm sorry Huey." I feel confused, exhale, and say, "I just lashed out at you, you're trying to help rather than getting away from me because that somehow makes sense in that Jazmine head, and now you're apologizing."

I see her exhale, see her look back at me, and she says, "When we were serving, Ashley told Mimi and me that it was after Ms. Reed asked us to share in class what we were doing for our Thanksgiving vacation that that jerk started talking about volunteering." I exhale, see her look down, and away. Shit.

I feel her start standing, hold those thighs down, and she says, "I should go. It was my fault that all of that happened today, just know that whatever that jerk said wasn't true and I'll slap him on Monday for you." I feel my eyebrow rise and without thinking, I sit up, taste those lips, push in, taste that tongue, feel those hands in my hair, and hear her say, "I'm sorry Huey." I exhale, kiss her, pull back, holding that waist, and say, "He's not touching you. You ever do anything; it will be a drop kick with your right foot."

I see that smile, smell that breath, and she says, "You're not mad at me?" I feel my eyebrow rise, exhale, and say, "You were asked a question in class, answered it, and probably made some of those idiot kids aware that there's a shelter in downtown, and that fucken idiot showed up and had to clean tables. How is any of that your fault and furthermore how is there any logic in me being mad for any of it?" I see that smile, feel those legs encircle me, swallow, and I hear her say, "Well, I guess you're right and it might not be my fault and I can't feel your temperature rising so I don't think you're mad, but." I see her lick those lips, I exhale, and hear her say, "Knowing whatever dumb things he said aren't true, how much you helped at the shelter, how much I know and everyone that cares about you knows you don't want anything to do with that family, how you just made me feel better about that jerk showing up not being my fault, how much you really help, how much you help Grandad, Mr. Willis, Aunt Cookie, my mom and sister, everyone and anyone that ever needs help, how do you not see how much of a good person you are Huey?"

I inhale, see that stone shine, know she wore it under that sweater today, know she makes sure to wear it on what she deems are special occasions, green signifies purity from contamination, purity by some definitions includes truth, what actually is, honesty, and know I want to be honest, even if I understand what I am, what I will always be, and I say, "I don't believe in souls." I look back up at that face, see that fine eyebrow rise, see that smile, and she says, "And holidays and that the government wants to help anyone, specially people of color or people with no money. So? It's kind of true." I exhale and say, "And even if I did believe in souls, I am not one of those people that's." I stop, exhale, and say, "Good for them." I continue before I stop and take this to my grave as one of those things I should have done, like not making her cry as much, and say, "I'm selfish in many respects, including in how much I take, from you." I see that mouth open and say, "I'm not done Jazmine." I see it close, I exhale, and say, "No matter how you see it, I do take from you, in ways you don't understand, and you." I stop, inhale, and say, "Continue to let me take." I exhale and say, "There are things you do that." I stop, inhale, and say, "Distance me from them." I see those eyes blink, see them water, inhale, and I say, "But I do not give back that same amount. I do not fill." I exhale and say, "I might be useful to others, but I do take from you, at least in that regard, and it's not your responsibility to give me as much as you do." I exhale, look down at that stone, know purity, and say, "Whatever you think is a good person does not include the characteristic of being selfish, taking, and then lashing out when I." I exhale and say, "Lose the control I must always have. I take from you, do not give the same amount in return, have made you cry more than smile, and so, I am not what your definition is of a good person."

I exhale, feel those hands come down to my shoulders, kneading them, feel myself relax, see that smile, and I hear her say, "You make me feel beautiful." I inhale and she says, "You make me feel smart and capable." I exhale and hear her say, "You make me feel like there's nothing in this world I can't do and one day we will save all the horses." I exhale, remembering that lemonade stand, how I treated her, and she says, "You make me feel like any time I ever cried." I inhale and hear her say, "And you weren't around because you didn't know I was crying, I wasn't growing up, I was just staying still, waiting for something to change." I hug that waist, know it belongs to me, feeling those legs tighten around my hips, those small feet on my back, and she says, "You make me feel like I was always the most special person to you because you never missed school when we were in middle school, so you could protect me, never missed once." I inhale. Shit. I see that smile and hear her say, "And, I know you were talking to other girls." I exhale. Crap. I see her smirk and she says, "And you still let me hug you every morning knowing I needed those hugs but not knowing how much I really needed them." I inhale, feel her scoot up, exhale, trying to relax, see those lips close enough I can kiss them again, but I like to hear her talk, and I hear her say, "And that's all the stuff you did when we were kids, in middle school, and last year. And then you and Riley trained us this year, made us really strong." We made you stronger. I see that smile and she says, "And now, you make me feel like the most special girl ever, letting me meet your family, your mom and dad, telling every guy that's ever tried anything with me that I'm your girlfriend because I am." I bring her in, feel my hardness on that stomach, and hear her say, "And I know you Huey. You don't say things just because. You say things when you mean them. So I believe everything you said right now about me making you feel different, even if you never tell me what different means, because you don't lie Huey. So." I exhale, know I want to kiss her, and she says, "Because of all those things, because of how you make me feel, because of the person you are, the honest, strong, brave guy you are, and because I know you through and through, I know you're a good person." I look down at those lips and hear her say, "And I believe in souls and you fill mine with happiness, first as my best friend, and now as my boyfriend."

I push down on those lips, taste that tongue, and hear myself say, "Different means clean." I inhale, feel that hand on my head sticking out of my shorts, pull back, see those eyes, that smirk, swallow feeling nervous for no apparent reason, and I hear her say, "I make you feel clean?"

I nod, see her lick those lips, feel myself start to precum. Fuck. I see her look down and I focus on that forehead instead of thinking about that afro lowering itself every time she has, feel her put that hand around my penis, and I inhale. I see her look up at me with that focused look and I hear her say, "But you already taste clean." Fuck. I close my eyes, lowering my head, trying to breathe the insignificant amount of air in this room, feel those legs move away from my back, feel that ass sit up, that hand that's still on my shoulder push me back, and I open my eyes. I see her looking at me and she says, "Lay down Huey because after talking about how much of a good person you are and how clean you really are, I want to be selfish and taste you."

Shit. I exhale, feel that hand leave my penis, those two hands on my shoulders push me back, and I lay down.

I feel that pull of my shorts, inhale, lift my lower body, feel the coolness of the room, look down, see that afro pulled back, knowing she is that much faster and put that hairband on in a matter of seconds, and see that hair lower itself over me. She's not using her hand. What is she? I feel that tongue lick the head of my penis.

Shit. I feel my eyes close, lay my head back down on the pillow, hear myself say that name, feel that tongue lick one side of my penis to the other side, feel my eyes go into the back of my head, feel that hand encircle my base, know this is going to end fast, and know she doesn't care. She just wants to taste me because I taste clean to her and we still have Saturday night. I exhale, feel that hand go up from my base to my head, know this is not a dream, feel that hand slide down, feel myself jerk, breathe, and feel that tongue go from my left ball to my right one. Fuck. I feel my toes curl as they do when it's her and not just me imagining her, hear myself say, "Jazzy, I'm not going to last if," feel that warm breath on my head and hear her say, "I want it all Huey." I feel that hand slide down, not knowing how many times she's slid that saliva and mixture of my precum down and up my penis, hear her say, "I want the moon," feel that tongue go over my head again, feel my hands turn into fists, hear her say, "I want the stars," feel that tongue on my base, feel it go up my penis, feel my eyeballs in the back of my head, know I'm being loud, but I couldn't give two shits as long as it's her, hear her say, "I want all of you," feel that mouth cover my head and that tongue go around it, and hear myself say it again, like I do whenever she does this, even though I do not believe in god, but I believe, if I trust her, I could be a good person.

I feel that face move on my back, feel myself going into that dark place, and I hear her say, "Bestie before you go to sleep can you do me big, big favor." I exhale and say, "Mmm?" I hear her exhale, feel those breasts move up, remember I'm tired, and I hear her say, "Can you tell me you believe me?" I feel my eyes open, see my dark room, and say, "Jazmine?" I hear her exhale and hear her say in that whiny voice, "Tell me you believe me that you're a good person Huey Freeman." I exhale, know I'm not a coward, just an idiot at times, thinking I cannot do something because of outside factors, people, that will never mean a thing to me. I squeeze that small fist, move it behind me, feel her inhale, let go of that fist, turn around, see those greens, open and wide, push her shoulder down on the bed, exhale all of the air from my lungs, bring my head back down to the pillow, seeing that face and those greens watching me, put my arm over that chest, around those shoulders, bring her in, and hear her stop breathing.

I exhale, gather my thoughts, the ones that seem logical enough, and say, "I." I inhale and continue, "Do not believe many things you do, but I believe what you believe is true enough for you and." I exhale and say, "You are the most aware girl I know so possibly." I inhale, looking at those particles in front of her face in the morning air, the ones that exists and need to exists in order for humans to exists, in order to have these conversations not only about sex but about good and bad people, and I say, "You could be right about your assumption that I'm a good person and I trust you." I inhale, knowing I do not lie because lying is for the weak, is used by the ones that do not want to hear the truth, the ones that do not want to know we are going to die alone and people do not belong to each other, feel my inhale, pull her in more, feeling that slim back on my chest, that ass over me, close my eyes, knowing I'm tired, and I hear her say in that voice that's too fast for a person with normal hearing to catch, "Good enough for now and I have time to help you see it bestie. And I trust you to. Night bestie, slash, warm brain, slash, boyfriend, slash, best good person in the world."

I hear my laugh, hear her inhale, and squeeze her, knowing this is what I want, and it's possible I deserve it not only because I want it but because I'm a good person. That or this hair that smells like strawberries is transmitting that unrealistic optimism and compounding with today's tiredness producing delusionary effects. I feel that small hand over my hand that's holding her shoulder, that ass go further into me and know she's right and we have time, we still have Saturday night before we have to return to that institution, and we still have Sunday to guarantee she can perform that drop kick as well as she did two weeks ago. She doesn't have to know I also like watching her perform that drop kick because I get a perfect view of that ass, even if she thinks I'm a good person.

Hi everyone,

I've been thinking "I ain't trying to dick-ride" for a week now cuz I just re-watched the Thugnificent episode where he shows up the first time and I just loved Riley in it. I also remember not liking that episode very much but damn was it funny AF this time.

But back to the story. So yes, I hope you all liked this last chapter. Um, I know I did.

And really, I want to say I'm truly happy for all the people that read this story. I don't know if I ever said this, but this story started when I had this really vivid dream of Huey and Jazzy on the bus going to the grocery store and then these two guys getting on the bus. I remember in my dream Huey reacted like he wanted to change the world, then I woke up and I was like "Homie now you know Huey would not be like that" and then I was like "So how would he really react?" Then I talked to a few other authors about me wanting to start a story and they all of course told me to go for it, and here we are.

Okay, don't know why I went into that. Thank you all for reading. I'm in school again but already know what's going on with the characters in the next chapter, so just gotta write when I'm done with my studies and them other 'adult' things I gotta to do. But I will be writing on the weekends and when I need a break from studying and working.

I hope you all tell me how you're liking it, because lowkey, those comments make me want to write more.

Thank you,

Bulma's Ego.