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Hal knelt in front of the fridge, opened the box, and laid out boxes of tofu next to the California rolls.

Alex scoffed. “What kind of motherfucker is gonna pick up tofu in this dank ass place?”

Straightening, Hal shot him a glare, then strolled past, annoyance plain across his face. Alex snickered, following him. Some things never changed, even after growing up together—Hal still could take Alex’s jabs. Hal sighed as he went behind the counter.

“So whatchu want, bro?” he asked. He threw the box onto the floor and propped himself against the counter, his large, dark eyes peering at Alex through the dirty plastic partition. “If you wanna work here again, then you better stop shakin’ down for them Chinos or else you gonna go broke.”

“This ain’t about that. Rather.” Alex pulled out his phone, searching for Robin’s texts. “I got a job for you.”

Hal raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“Just hear me out.” Before Alex continued, he whipped his head around the store, making sure it was just them. He leaned closer to Hal. “Is that kid still around?”

“Which one?”

“What do you mean which one? That tall, lanky, white kid you have making tacos in the back. Who else even works here?”

“Hiya, Auggie!” A cheerful, Italian-accented voice came from the back storage room. A long-limbed arm waved at him through the threshold. Then Matt poked his head out, flipping back his golden-brown hair and his one dangling earbud swinging across his chest. “Yup, I’m still here!” He grinned and took a large gulp from an orange juice carton.

“Matt, get back to countin’!” Hal hollered at him. “This ain’t about you! You didn’t even finish the last inventory!”

Matt saluted with his carton in hand, accompanied by an “okaaaay,” and disappeared back into the storage room.

Brows raised, Alex stared at Hal.

Hal sighed. “Look, I know what you gonna say. I am still doing him a favor, aight? He’s just a kid.”

“He’s fucking twenty, Hal. That ain’t no kid.”

“Look Augs, not everyone is like you, you know? Some homies don’t grow up as fast.”

Alex shrugged. “Don’t know if I’m a bright and shining example of that.”

“Anyway, Matt ain’t going nowhere. He got no one. Besides, could use the help. It’s kinda hard running this place by myself.”

“And whose problem is that?” Alex pestered.

Hal pursed his lips into a coy smile whenever Alex aggravated him. “I’d rather live a life of hard work than bein’ back on the streets with a bunch of hoodlums trying to make out a dream.”

Alex raised an eyebrow at the bold statement. He knew a bunch of Garras would be offended if they heard that. “You sure are living that American dream, ain’t cha.”

Hal grinned, puffing his chest out. “Not bad for a Black kid from Oaxaca, right?” Crossing his arms, he nodded towards the storage room. “So, what you want Matt for?”

“Yeah, what do you want me for?” Matt poked his head out from the room again.

“Shut up, Matt! This ain’t about you!” Alex yelled this time, shaking his head. Matt slid back into the storage room.

Alex waved Hal to come closer, hoping Matt wouldn’t hear them this time. “So I get this message, right? Like a couple days ago. At first, I thought it was like spam or some shit, so I ignored them. Then they kept messaging from different numbers and accounts.

“No matter how much I blocked them, they kept coming back to me. Whether it’s text or Facebook. Blocked. And now the latest one is fucking Skype. It was creepy as fuck bro, like some stalker shit.”

“What if it was that Korean cop? Trying to trap you or something?”

Alex felt his face drop just at the mention of Yoona. Even if it was her, those texts didn’t sound like her. “No,” he grumbled. “She wouldn’t do that.”

Hal shrugged and raised his hands apologetically. “My bad.” He waved it off, moving on from the conversation. “Anyway, how do you know it’s the same guy?”

“’Cause they kept saying the same shit like ‘just making sure this is Alex, right’ and saying they know it’s me and started proving it by saying facts about me.”