Page 8 of Just Like Summer

“I’m surprised you found your way here,” he spoke, retrieving the bag of food from her.

“Dropped off,” Kamilla replied, looking around to make sure her coworker wasn’t ear hustling. “You got my phone?”

Cairo lifted a bushy brow. “Why you whispering?”

“QaMeesha is nosey,” was all Kamilla offered without getting into detail.

Cairo slowly nodded. “Yeah. Wallet too. Sit with me and eat and I’ll give it to you.”

“Do you get off with this held in possession thing?” Kamilla asked, her face slightly frowned.

Cairo swayed his head. “Just want to make sure you eat. Is that a crime?”

“Why?”

“So you don’t pass out again,” he spoke, motioning for her to sit. “Bet you haven’t ate all day.”

Kamilla looked around again before sitting on the other side of the table. “Been busy.”

The truth was that the little bit of groceries her aunt got the night before had been eaten by Martez by the time Kamilla woke up. Up until now, QaMeesha had refused her a break. Past hungry, her feet burned from the hours of work.

Cairo sat with a good view of all the exits and her. “Where you from, Kamilla?”

“Does it matter?” she asked, reaching in the bag for chicken taco.

“We friends right?” Cairo posed.

“We aren’t friends. If we were, I’d know your name,” Kamilla replied. “‘Cause C4 ain’t it.”

“Christano the Fourth could really be my name,” he toyed, hoping to earn a smile. Instead, she offered him an eye roll.

“Imagine a name like that dripped in blue. Doubt it,” Kamilla quipped, before taking a bite of the taco.

“You right. That shit lame as hell. Cairo,” he offered. “So, we friends now?”

“No,” Kamilla replied. “Apparently, they say that you’re out of your mind. And I’m inclined to believe them.”

“I don’t know nobody by the name of ‘they’. Don’t listen to that shit,” he retorted. “You could be the opp.”

“Like a CK? I look like I gangbang?”

“You don’t look like you cuss for real,” Cairo answered. “Got that good girl shit about you. Which is why I’m trying to figure how you landed here.”

Kamilla skipped the heavy details and shook her hair out of her face. “I’m from Greenwood.”

“Oh, that tracks.”

“That means?”

“You a good girl. Might got to rethink this friend thing,” Cairo said with a quick, silly smirk that if she’d blinked, she would’ve missed.

“Nothing new I guess,” Kamilla muttered.

“That means?” he parroted.

She shrugged. “I don’t have any friends, so it wouldn’t matter.”

Instead of settling his growling stomach, he found himself staring, not wanting to miss a smile, or quick glance of her eyes.