Abruptly, the stage in front of her lit up. Vibrant hues of amethyst and sapphire snaked around the stage’s towering pole. Coolly, a woman appeared, as thick as a pillar, curves like an orbit. Her strut was spectacular, each step made to be remembered. She channeled rhythm like a conduit, her wide hips swaying slowly. She mounted the pole legs first, defying physics by sliding up before easing down. Before her feet touched the ground, cash began to swarm around her, gliding across her gleaming, quivering skin, the smoothest transaction. The woman had a supernatural relationship with the booming music, Tilly felt, her fleshy body dissolving into the flickering stage lights, every jiggle eerily deliberate, every dollar earned.

Tilly sipped her drink.

chapter 8

The July sun hammered into Kai’s back as she jumped rope in her driveway. She hated the purity of jumping rope. It could never be anything other than straight up work, no matter how much you tried to make it fun. Kai had tried everything, but nothing ever worked: headphones always fell out, speakers got drowned out by the slap of the rope against the concrete, and it was never scenic because it could only be done in one place. Jump roping was labor through and through, no breaks, no daydreaming, no thrills, just calories evaporating into the ether.

It worked, though. After thirty-five minutes, Kai felt the same level of exhaustion as after an hour of tennis. Satisfied, she stopped, tossing the nylon rope aside and plopping into the gasping crabgrass of her front yard.

June was gone forever, along with her interest in Theo. He’d spent an entire month hounding her about what they’d done and complaining about the heat. She could deal with the latter, but the former was unexpected. How could he have had such a drastic change of a heart about a plan he’d cooked up? They’d tagged schools and hospitals and houses and businesses and cars and headstones. He knew how collateral damage worked. This was graffiti, not a gluten-free bake sale. Maybe his hatred for Six Flags had blinded him, Kai considered. He hated that place so much that he’d once rear-ended someone on I-20 because he was too distracted throwing the theme park a double finger. Whatever the case, she didn’t care. They were over.

Good thing she’d decided to go to a school he hadn’t applied to, unlike Zed and Apollo, who were both going to Georgia Tech. They seemed good, though; they could stick it out. Her and Theo? Nah.