Page 23 of Just Like Summer

“So you’re going to sit out here all night and glare at him? Fight? Have it more lit up than it typically is and then I really won’t sleep? I can handle it.”

“Mm,” Cairo grunted. “Put your seatbelt on.”

Kamilla pulled in a deep breath before sighing and adhering to his order. After fastening her seatbelt, she watched him round the trunk, shut it, and send a series of texts before joining her inside. “What you want to eat?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she muttered, reading the notification in her messages about her bill being due.

He clenched his jaw and muttered back. “It does.”

“You need a nap?” she quipped.

“Not any more than you do,” Cairo stated. “I’ll be cool. Tell me what you feel like?”

She shrugged. “Chinese.”

“Got you. There’s a place off of Husten, next to a laundromat.”

The two rode in silence, mulling over their respective days. While Kamilla loaded up the washers with her clothes, Cairo was across the street ordering their dinner. When he returned, Kamilla was sitting atop a folding table, aimlessly staring at the analog clock on the wall.

“Sesame seed chicken, shrimp fried rice, and a lemonade,” he announced, taking her food out the bag.

“Thanks,” she spoke just above a whisper. “You sure you got time for this? Don’t you have a studio session tonight?”

“Postponed.” Cairo’s answer was sharp.

“Is that why you’re in a mood?” she questioned, opening a pack of duck sauce with her teeth.

“I’m not in a mood,” he grumbled.

“You most definitely are in a mood. What’s up?”

“You first,” he spoke, pulling a chicken wing apart, avoiding the pair of eyes that would make him break.

“I worked a full shift with no break, QaMeesha breathing down my neck, and bothersome customers off of very little sleep. Not to mention, your girlfriend wanted me to work the closing shift,” Kamilla rambled off before putting a forkful of food into her mouth. “Mm, this is so good.”

“Best Chinese spot in the whole hood, on Azul,” he stated. The “on Azul” making her smirk slightly. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s your turn to share.”

Cairo groaned. “I’d rather keep the street shit out of what we got going on.”

“Oh no, sir. You have forced me to be your friend, which means you are obligated to share,” Kamilla returned. “Your shoulders are all tight, you’re frowning more than you do…who did it?”

Cairo chuckled, “Who did it? The nigga that’s always doing some shit to fuck up a good thing. That’s who.”

Kamilla took in how his rye chuckle quickly fused with his aggravation. She didn’t speak, just listened between bites.

“This goes without saying this shit is dangerous but the biggest danger of it is the niggas you stand by. If niggas you stand by are filled with greed, they’ll do anything to get ahead. I’ve looked out for this nigga, taught him the ins and outs and told him to keep shit low. He never did. I’ve put niggas in the ground to keep his stupid ass free. And he keeps violatin’ the code. It’s a code out here. A code amongst niggas with these flags. That’s what separates us from CKs and Vatos. You know what greed does to niggas?” Cairo asked, finally looking up at Kamilla, who’d never taken her eyes off of him. “It has the same effect that drugs have on honorable men with families. Whatever they gotta do for the next hit, with no regard for the lives they affect, they’ll do. I can’t have that.”

“So what’d you do?” Kamilla asked softly, catching the glint of darkness in Cairo’s eyes.

“What I didn’t do is going to haunt me more than tossing his ass around and putting him on ice. That’s this fuckin’ mood I’m in. Love that nigga too much to end him. Love myself too much to be in a box behind him. Respect my people too much to tear up a family.”

“No one ever said being a leader was easy. The crown gets heavy,” Kamilla shared.

“Ain’t no crown on my head, K,” Cairo replied.

“If there wasn’t, you wouldn’t have the respect you do. Kings are respected and tested,” Kamilla reciting one of her father’s lines.