Noemi sat underneath a plastic slide and poured handfuls of sand over her sandals. Andrés, her twin brother, climbed up and down the stairs that led to the slide. He didn’t actually like the slide itself, but he loved going up and down the stairs. They both seemed focused and content with what they were doing.

Gabe kept a close eye on them anyway.

The chains of his swing creaked like door hinges as he swayed back and forth. His friend Frankie sat in the other swing and complained. Gabe was dark and shorter than his average peer, while Frankie was pale, tall, and spindly thin.

“Why do you have to babysit today?” Frankie asked.

“It’s Thursday,” Gabe answered, as though that explained everything.

“So?” said Frankie.

“So Mom tutors on Thursdays. I can’t remember what subject she’s got today. Might be Spanish. Might be math. I hope it isn’t standardized test prep. She hates test prep. And my sister has a restaurant shift, and then Dad has his own shift later. He’s making dinner now. So that leaves me to watch the twins.”

“Huh,” said Frankie—the uncomprehending grunt of an only child who has never had to watch anyone else. “I wish I could come over for dinner. I’d rather have your dad’s cooking than eat with my mom while she glares at me.”

“You can’t, though,” said Gabe. “We’re supposed to be avoiding each other right now.”

“Yeah,” Frankie said sadly.

The other kids playing nearby were either very much younger or very much older than Gabe and Frankie. Two older boys played basketball in a court adjacent to the playground. They shouted and cursed each other out. It sounded angry. It sounded vicious. Gabe glanced their way whenever an especially sharp curse cut the air. But it didn’t look like they were fighting. Not really. So it was probably just aggressive conversation. The cursing might have been part of their game.

Gabe looked back at the twins. Noemi still sat under the slide with her handfuls of sand. Andrés kept climbing the stairs.

“My mom is pretty mad,” said Frankie. “Have you noticed how she seems to get taller whenever she gets mad?”

Gabe nodded without looking away from the twins. He had noticed. Frankie’s mom turned into a towering statue of wrathful ice whenever she got mad.

“She’s sending me to live with my dad for the rest of the summer,” Frankie went on. “In California.”

That got Gabe’s attention. “Really?”

“Really,” said Frankie. “She puts me on a plane tonight.”