Page 40 of Just Like Summer

Cairo smirked, nodded, stood, and started stomping GeeBlue out until Nate pulled him back to reality.

“Ay, C4. It’s cool. It’s cool,” Nate muttered ,moving him away from GeeBlue’s battered body.

Cairo’s eyes had gone dark. “I’ll kill that nigga. I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

Nate, pushing Cairo to a safe distance, turned to look at the handful of men who had fear in their eyes. Broad daylight and Cairo was getting active without worry. It made what he did when the sun went down that much more lethal.

“Get that nigga and get the fuck off the street,” Nate directed to the backs of the men who left Gee to pull himself up. Everyone knew mention of KP to Cairo would cause this – a black out. In the most lethal way. Nate remembered how long it took to usher Cairo out that darkness. It cost lives. All but one.

Cairo got in the car, shut the door, and vigorously rubbed his face. He punched the steering wheel and willed himself back to a functional normality. There was too much to focus on today and he couldn’t be like this – not with her. Nate leaned on the hood of the car, lit a blunt, and waited until Cairo was calm enough to talk to. While he waited, he watched Gee crawl away.

“Pussy,” Nate grumbled, watching the loud mouth on his hands and knees.

The duration of Nate finishing his blunt was how long it took before Cairo rolled down the window and lit one of his own. Nate stood and slowly moved to the passenger window.

“Welcome back, nigga,” Nate spoke with a slight smirk.

“I ain’t all the way back. I got the right mind to light that nigga spot up. But his bitch ass is at home with his mama, so, I’ll catch him again,” Cairo grumbled.

“What you mad about more?” Nate asked, trying to find what really sparked the blackout. “Him callin’ your girl a bitch, using that KP shit to get to you, or Martez?”

Cairo pulled in a sharp inhale. It was all of it. It was the position he was in that he wouldn’t be able to pull himself out of if he tried. Slowly releasing it and ignoring his stinging knuckles, he grumbled, “Get in. We got to get their supplies.”

That was the whole point of them going out – to set the girls they deemed as their own with a leg up on this impromptu cleaning gig. It was the phone call about Azuls being on the corner in broad day with packs they got from Tiny that deterred him from his mission.

“What we doing about Tiny?” Nate asked, getting in.

Cairo waited for the door to close before peeling off from the curb. “The way I’m feeling, nothing. If have to go talk to his stupid ass again, that nigga won’t even mutter a word again.”

“Aight, then,” Nate blew, leaving Cairo alone for a few seconds. “When you get into your millions and get the fuck out of here, go get your head checked.”

“Fuck you, nigga,” Cairo snapped back, catching the smirk on Nate’s face. “You better than me? That’s what you sayin’?”

“One of us got to stay grounded,” Nate laughed. “Yin and yang, nigga. We should get that shit tatted.”

“I’m not getting no matching tattoos with your ass, nigga.”

“I bet if it were Kamilla asking you’d run,” Nate taunted.

Cairo blew the smoke from his nostrils and shook his head. “Skin too fuckin’ pretty.”

It was a mutter not intended for Nate to hear. The flash of the moment they shared the night before zapped the residual thunder from his storm. Cairo stroked the hairs of his beard, the dimple piercing his cheek, buried.

“Yeahhh,” Nate drew out, proceeding to mock his friend. “It ain’t about pussy.”

“It ain’t,” Cairo huffed. “Nigga, shut up, talking to me.”

“On Azul, if it was offered, you wouldn’t take it?” Nate posed.

“On Azul, I ain’t taking shit, feel me?” Cairo started. “I’m getting the deed to it. Shit took can get taken. The deed makes it mine. Ain’t nobody taking that shit from me.”

Nate kissed his teeth. “Your poetic ass makes me fuckin’ sick.”

Cairo rumbled with laughter. “Shut up, let’s get this shit.”

A trunk full of cleaning supplies later, Cairo dropped Nate off giving him strict instructions about what time to have Dania at the studio before speeding back to his spot. The closer he got to Kamilla, the more his body relaxed. Approaching the door with a hand full of bags, he was welcomed back to an aroma he hadn’t had the luxury of being greeted with since his grandma died.

He unlocked the door and stepped in. The waft of a homecooked meal overtook him, almost making his knees go weak. The smell of the food and her father’s playlist— offered him a sense of nostalgia— a balm to any bullshit that happened outside of these walls.