Page 10 of Just Like Summer

“Oh my God! What the hell is that?” she asked, amid her coughing.

“Put your hands in the air,” Cairo’s baritone rattled with slight laughter.

“And you’re going to rob me?” she screeched, as he took the bags of trash from her hold.

He kissed his teeth. “Girl, no. Why would I rob you?”

“I don’t know,” she breathed with her hands still above her head. “I don’t know what your motives are or why you’re lurking behind people’s businesses. You smoke that shit? My lungs are burning.”

Cairo laughed, tossing the bags in the dumpster with ease. He took in her bewilderment. “Just breathe.”

“I’m trying,” Kamilla huffed. “Do you just smoke in alleys?”

“I was waiting on you. Chose to pass some time,” Cairo answered, as if waiting on someone he just met like this was normal.

Kamilla’s frown deepened. “Do you think is normal?”

“Making sure my friend is good?” he posed, snuffing out his blunt to ensure she wouldn’t have any more coughing fits.

She searched her surrounding for cameras as she folded her arms. This had to be some sort of sick joke. “You are out of your mind.”

“I am, but that’s besides the point. The shit is getting spooky out here. I am very sure you don’t where the fuck you are or how to get home. And your first run-in with some gang shit, you damn near bust your head open.”

“You can stop bringing that up, honestly. I’d like to forget about it and you, for that matter,” Kamilla grumbled.

“You don’t want to do that. That’s why you still standing here,” Cairo tossed as the back door opened.

“You didn’t clean the bathroom,” QaMeesha’s nagging voice hit Kamilla’s ears before the stench hit her nose. “Get back in here and finish, Kamry.”

“First of all,” Kamilla huffed, visibly irritated. “It’s Kamilla. Kah-Mill-Ah. It’s simple if you passed the third grade. Second, I’m off. You clean the damn bathroom. Been barking orders at me all day like I’m a dog.”

Kamilla stomped off, no real sense of direction but sure she needed to get away from two opposite forms of unnerving. QaMeesha, in the worst way possible, and Cairo in the most frightening. Around the building on the opposite side, she started up the block. Wrong way, wrong territory. In L.O. public spaces, restaurants, businesses or anything of the sort were neutral territory. Azul Hearts, Crimson Kings, and the Loso Vatos knew the price of handling gang business near innocent bystanders. However, when you entered their territory, the gloves were off. And Kamilla was stomping her attitude-ridden self right into Vato’s territory.

The rev of the engine behind her and shout of her name grabbed her attention.

“Kamilla!” Cairo shouted before throwing his car into park and hopping out.

“I can get home, Cairo. Would you leave me alone?” she snipped.

“You keep walking this way you ain’t never getting home,” he stated, hearing a whistle that almost caused his body to freeze. In a swift move, he pulled her off the sidewalk, opened up the passenger door and forced her inside.

“C4, fuck you over here on my cuadra, ese?” a man about a foot shorter than Cairo moved across the street, clad in a black and gray plaid shirt, black Dickie shorts, and black air forces. A black bandana tied around his head, a Modelo in his hand, and a blunt pinched between his fingers. “Who’s the bitch?”

“Tres, watch your mouth,” Cairo offered in a tone so eerily cool, even Kamilla was inclined to listen.

Shutting the door herself, she sat still in the car and could still hear everything thanks to the windows rolled halfway down.

“Ah, she’s yours,” Tres said with a sinister laugh. “You tell her pretty ass to stay on her side before I have to take her.”

“Promise or threat? You know how I feel about pint-sized niggas challenging me,” Cairo spoke, sitting on his hood as if he weren’t going to move.

Tres looked him over. “Crazy how you look just like me and chose the other side.”

“Nigga fuck you,” Cairo shot back. “I chose the side that chose me. Fuck you talkin’ about? You think ‘cause we share some DNA, I’m going to bow to you?”

“Your papa was a Vato. He’s rolling in his grave knowing you Azul,” Tres said with a scoff, spitting near Cairo’s shoes.

“My pops was a bitch and any nigga thinking he wasn’t, is a bitch too. So tell me, you the boy or the girl in your shit.”