“Ha,” I said. “Nahhh,” thinking how crazy it was how far back we actually went how V that summer we met summer before senior year in V’s tree house rapping sorta half-rapping half-Jack-Johnson-singing how legendary the bond off the rip how V not only accepting of but encouraging both sides of then-me the ratchet Jordan-wearing tall tee-copping fitted cap-rocking vato wigger boy on the one and the cello-playing reader writer philosophy bro sensitive boy on the other how before V these sides kept discrete only performed when audience appropriate “Yeah that ain’t happening,” I said, with a finality lil bro was visibly disappointed by.

“But fkn dude,” I said, turning to V and going in for the hug. “It’s actually been…a year?”

V looking wooked out hair dangling vine-like down his angular-ass face.

“Well August 1,” he said. “I peeled outta Philly August 1.”

“So yeah. A year and”—checking my phone—“a fortnight.”

“Since those dishes,” said V.

“That diss track,” I said, laughing, thinking how late that summer start of that school year V and lil sis started how weird it got but how it also made sense how lil sis initiated it did that repeatedly even before V repeatedly homed in on the bestie the main homie how this had to be bc how close we were growing up moving so much how it was almost like whenever I got attached to another bro lil sis going in for the swoop was her saying Wait where ya goin?! just wanting to be included—

“Too fkn wild,” I said, grinning. “Cycles.”

“Fkn cycles,” V said.

And us just standing there, in the corridor between the tables, Whole Foods fucks chattering all around, oblivious to the scope of this bromance reunion. Till lil bro cut in like,

“Yo so we tryna hit this juice bar or what?”

“Yeah. Let’s nab a mate,” V said. “Sit tight,” leading lil bro into the Whole Foods.

I sat back down.