“Okay, now, Judge Keenan’s about to come back on. Y’all go chapsnat or play e-bingo on the dark web or whatever it is you kids do nowadays.”

“Thanks, Nana,” Autumn says, pulling me toward the stairs.

“It was nice to see you again,” I call back. But Nana’s already nodding her head at the honorable judge.

Autumn flops on her bed. “So, I don’t mean to be hella forward, but, uh . . . all this heavy stuff you just dropped on me has me feeling pretty mortal right now, so . . . maybe you should come kiss me.”

“Maybe I should.” I fall onto the bed beside her. She flings a few decorative pillows onto the ground.

I look at her for a moment. And then I kiss her. Again and again I kiss her.

Her fingers tug at my shirt, pushing it up, up, up. “What if your nana comes up here? Legs and hospitals, remember? As in she sees your legs, I see the hospital?”

Autumn laughs. “You saw her walker, right? I think we’ll hear her.”

I laugh. Give her a long wink. “Or she’ll hear you, you know what I’m saying? You know what I’m saying?”

“Ewww, don’t do that anymore. Please.”

“No? I took you back to the Fresh Prince.”

“Well, it can stay back there, thank you very much.” She smiles. “Besides, if Nana’s going to hear anyone, it’s gonna be your ass. I’mma have you hitting those high notes, you know what I’m saying? You know what I’m saying?”

I laugh. Pick up a pillow and throw it toward her head. She catches it and throws it back, hitting me in my chest.

“Not gonna lie, it’s funnier when you say it,” I tell her, sliding back over.

She’s lying on her back, and the way her coily hair springs out, it’s like constant motion, like fireworks erupting in every direction. How can anyone be so beautiful, I think to myself. And then I say it.

“How are you so beautiful?”

“Shut up,” she says, looking away. The dimple in her right cheek is a trampoline, it goes concave, then bounces right back.

“I’m serious. I don’t know if you realize how much I’m into you. I don’t know if I always realize.”

“Why, though?” she asks, turning her face back to me. Tears slip down both cheeks. “Why me?”

“Depends. How cheesy do you want me to get here?”

“Go full cheese.”