Page 37 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

TheClose-Up

A Hollywood Renaissance/HOOPS Novella

By Kennedy Ryan

Then

Takira

High School – Senior Year

“How’s the soup coming, Kira?” my mothershouts from the dining room. “It’s done?”

I roll my eyes and sigh, but not too loudly because I don’twant licks from Mama tonight, and she will pop me ifprovoked. Or toss the nearest shoe at me.

“Yes, ma’am.” I lift the lid from the fish soup, drawing ina deep breath of the flavor-rich aroma and letting the steam mist my face.

“Good,” she yells. “I hope we have enough of everything. All them boys’ll be hungry.”

The last thing I want to do in the middle of the week ishelp my mother prepare a full Trinidadian spread for twelve immature jocks. Badenough I live with one. Now I’m cooking dinner for Cliff’sbasketball team instead of watching Vampire Diaries.

I survey the dishes, pots, and pans of food splayed acrossevery surface in our kitchen. In addition to the soup, we have curry crab anddumpling, pelau, salt fish, coconut bread, aloo choka,rice, and every other Trini dish Mama had time to make.

“Go upstairs and check on your brother,” Mama says, thefaintest lilt of the islands languishing in her words even though she’s livedin America nearly twenty years. “He lolling off. Hisfriends be here any minute, and he not even down here.”

I grumble under my breath but turn the soup off and cutthrough the living room to climb the stairs. My hand is on the handle to openthe door, but I catch myself just in time. Growing up, Cliff and I were closerto each other than to my sister Janice, who is four years older than him andfive years older than I am. Cliff and I are what some call Irish twins, bornonly 13 months apart.

Ain’tno child of mine Irish nothing, Mama always says. Instead we’re her“Trini twins.”

Still, the days when I could barge into Cliff’s roomunannounced are long gone. You interrupt a boy’s quiet time with his bottle oflotion in one hand and his dick in the other, you learn to knock quick.

“What you want?” his newly deeper voice demands from theother side of the door.

“Um, I want to bewatching Vampire Diaries, but I’m cookingdinner for your friends. Mama says come down. The team’llbe here soon.”

The door opens, and my own dark brown eyes stare back at mefrom more than half a foot above. Not only are we “Trini twins,” but we couldbe fraternal as much as we look alike, despite the dramatic height difference.We have the same high cheekbones, though mine are set in the rounded curves ofmy face and his are more pronounced. Identical clefts in our chins passed onfrom Daddy. Heavily lashed eyes under a thick, dark slash of brows. Well, mine werethick before I experimented with wax and tweezers last week. Right now they’rewhat’s left.

“Help me with this tie,” Cliff says, turning back into hisroom, leaving me to follow inside. He holds out a tie with the word “fabulous”stitched into the burgundy and gold pattern of his private school’s shield ofarms.

“Isn’t this from your school uniform?” I frown at thealtered tie.

“Yeah, but we had Kenneth’s mom sew the ‘fabulous’ on forthe starters, kinda like Michigan’s Fab 5.”

“Won’t you get in trouble for changing it like this?”

“We’re about to give St. Catherine’s its first statechampionship,” he says, his smirk cocky, his tone assured. “We could stitch suckmy dick on that tie, and the headmaster wouldn’t care. Long as webring home them Ws and sponsor dollars.”

“I still don’t get how a high school has corporatesponsors.”

“It’s a private school cranking out top athletes. Youwouldn’t understand with that basic public schooleducation you getting,” he teases.

“You cried like a little bitch whenSt. Catherine’s recruited you and Mama said you had to leave all your friendsand accept that scholarship. So watch who you call basic, bruh.”

“I did not—”

I cut him off with a who you trying to foollook, and he grins, showing off the straight, white smile my parents are stillpaying for.

“Okay, maybe I cried a little at first,” he concedes. “Butthat was sophomore year. It was worth it. Look at us now. ‘Bout to be champs.”