Angry. Disgusted. Protective.
All of it at once.
“Sis,” Zay called gently.
She jumped, stuffing a pipe into a plastic bag like it was gold.
“Zay? What are you doing here? I told Mom not to send you.” Her voice was softer than I remembered.
“I’m checking on you. You don’t need to be out here like this.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need anyone. I’m grown. I got a friend helping me with an apartment this week.”
He ignored that and crouched near her. “What you drawing?”
“A man.”
“Who?”
“Nobody. Can you leave, please?”
I pushed off the car slowly and walked closer.
I had to see her up close.
“You used to show me your drawings all the time,” Zay said. “I still got the one you did of me. I framed it.”
She looked up at him, eyes sharp. “We not kids anymore. I’m not that girl and never will be.”
“You can be,” he said. “Just come home. If you don’t want to be around Mom and Dad, fine. I’ll take you somewhere else.”
That’s when her eyes cut to me.
“Yuck. What is he doing here?” she asked through clenched teeth.
I couldn’t help it. I chuckled under my breath. “The audacity.”
She stood up fast. Fire in her eyes.
“You trying to judge me, you fake French nigga? You wasn’t judging me when I fucked and ducked you. Bet you didn’t tell Zay that.”
She laughed and shoved me.
There it was.
The girl I remembered.
I didn’t flinch.
Didn’t react.
I just looked at Zay.
“Bro, you’re being too nice. Snatch her up, Ralo. Toss her in the van. She out her damn mind.”
My voice was calm. Authoritative.
Her eyes snapped back to me.
