I smile. Nic and I did go hard on old Drizzy. We would sneak onto the family computer in the kitchen while MiMi was at work to find the unedited versions of his songs on YouTube.
“And I really, really wanted to talk to you.” Riley looks down at her lap, getting shy on me all of a sudden. “I spent all afternoon getting my makeup just right, so you could tell me how cool my costume looked. And I thought about the questions I could ask you about yours to get you talking to me. When I saw you, with your half shell and your plastic nunchucks, I knew exactly what to ask you.” She raises her eyebrows to see if I remember. I give a sheepish shrug, completely clueless. Riley sighs. “Where’d you get your mask from?”
I pause. The moment hits me like an ice bath. I had lost the orange mask that came with the costume. MiMi, Nic, and I had spent a full hour ransacking the apartment, trying to find where I might’ve dropped it. MiMi gave up, said we couldn’t be late. Cut some holes in her orange bandana and made me wear that instead. I never felt so embarrassed, so ghetto, in my life. Then the Reverend’s daughter walked over to me and pointed out the one thing on my costume that made me want to disappear.
“You told me to shut up,” Riley continues, poking at her rice. “You told me to shut up, then didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night. Which was partially my fault, since I spent half of the evening crying in the bathroom afterward.”
I wince, wanting to punch that big-headed ten-year-old in the face. “Riley, I—”
“It’s okay. Your sister found me. Apologized for you.” She smiles now at the memory. “She apologized a lot for you over the years, then would tell me some embarrassing story about you to make me feel better. But that was the first time. We developed a silent thing after a while. Whenever one of us would do or say anything to make you snap or make this face . . .” She scrunches her nose and forehead up until they look like origami. “She’d cross her eyes at me and I crossed them back. Something silly just to make us not take you too seriously. I know you were going through a lot then. I know you’re going through a lot now.”
Now I poke at my food. My throat feels too swollen to swallow anything at the moment.
“I know you probably thought that I was all up in your Kool-Aid about the Nic thing at first but, I don’t know, I guess in a weird way, I feel like she’s my friend. One of the few that paid attention to me. I just wanted to return the favor.” She gets real quiet and so do I. We just listen to the cars whiz by on the street behind us. Something about the chaos back there calms me. Like everyone keeps moving, but I get a moment to be still with Riley.
She finally cracks another smile at me. “You’re not so smooth, Jay. You never told me about your dreams. What are you doing when we graduate next year? JRU? I know you probably wouldn’t want to be that far from Ms. Murphy.”
I scoff at her suggestion. John Ratcliffe University is one of the few colleges right in our backyard that the smart, uppity students in our schools usually wanted to attend, and not as a backup choice. It was as close to an Ivy League as we could get in this area—the admissions requirements included a high GPA, high SAT scores, and fair skin.
“Yeah. College is not really my cup of tea,” I say.
Riley looks at me, wide-eyed. Kind of like Mrs. Pratt when I tell her about my future plans, or lack thereof. “I don’t get it,” she says. “You’re so smart.”
My cheeks get warm from the compliment. “I can’t afford it. And I farted around too much to get a long list of extracurriculars going. Every dollar I make is going to MiMi. It’s the least I can do for her after taking me and Nic in.”
“Jay, she’s your grandmother.”
“Exactly. She’s already raised her children. She didn’t ask for another set during her golden years. That’s the only reason why I’m putting up with this.” I tug at my Taco Bell polo shirt.
Riley looks down at my shirt then back up at me. “Okay, I get where you’re coming from. I really do. But . . . don’t you think that the best way you can repay Ms. Murphy is by going to college? For her to see that all her hard work actually gave you a better future?”
I open my mouth, ready to give the same rebuttals that I give all my teachers, that I give Mrs. Pratt. But . . . damn. She got me. She got me good. College is all MiMi has been talking about with me lately—at least it was before Nic’s disappearance. Though I know she’ll be geeked about seeing me walk across the stage getting my diploma, she’d about jump out of her skin to see me doing the same with a college degree.
I look at Riley. Cock my head to one side so I can really take her all in.
“What?” Riley asks, smoothing down her ponytail. “I got something in my hair? Shrimp in my teeth?”
I smile and shake my head. “I just want you to know that I see you, Riley. I really see you. I couldn’t stop seeing you if I tried.” Maybe that’s what Nic needed to hear, too. That she was seen for her inside, not just her outside. That she mattered. Maybe that’s what would’ve kept her next to me.
Riley takes a breath and her shoulders rise, like she knows exactly what I mean. I slide closer to her so she can feel it too. She doesn’t move away. She leans over to me, gives me permission to get even nearer.
So I do. I touch the side of Riley’s face. Tilt my head toward hers, then pause. “Can I kiss you?” I ask.
Riley smiles and grabs the back of my head, pressing her mouth against mine. Our lips move in and out of each other’s, speaking a language that they’d learned forever ago but only get to use now. And every time I think one of us gets tired, Riley presses the back of my head or I squeeze her lower back, and our communication continues. Hell, I could speak to Riley like this all night long.
Tires screech in front of us, snapping Riley and me back to reality. Javon thrusts his head out of his driver’s side window.
“Get in,” he demands.
Twenty-One
RILEY AND I FREEZE IN TIME, WATCHING JAVON WATCH US with a slight crease in between his eyebrows.
“Hello?” Javon snaps his fingers a few times at me. “I said get in.”
“Why . . . why should I go anywhere with you?” I remember how my vocal cords work. “You told me to stay away from you. To back off. Remember?” I sure as hell didn’t forget—and neither did my stomach muscles.
“I also told you to stop getting cute. So get your ass in the car. Now.”
Maybe this is how it was when he confronted Kenny. If I get in that car, that might be the last car ride I’ll ever take. I cross my arms over my chest, stand my ground. “I’m good right here.”
Javon’s nostrils flare, but then he squeezes his eyes shut. Takes a deep breath. Like Javon Hockaday is suddenly practicing mindfulness. He reopens his eyes and his face is now more still. “It’s about Nic.”
At that, my arms go slack. Nic? So this mofo finally wants to come clean about Nic. He must be broiling from all the heat on him, so now he’s ready to do something right. I slide off Riley’s car. “I need to go with him,” I say to her, almost apologetically. Even if he does spill wax about Nic, it still might be the last thing I hear. But maybe I can at least send a message to MiMi, give her some answers.