Sol scoffed and sat back on the couch. “Siege engine? Nigga, what? I’m gonna ignore that and start by saying you know I’m all in, but there’s no way you really think what we’re about to do changes things for real for real. For Kai, this is just the final summer excursion. Zed, too. They’re thinking about college. You’re all going to college!” She reached down for her glass and the tea jug.

Apollo watched the liquid stretch from the jug to the glass. “I might go, I might not, but it’s not our job to think about this,” Sol said. “That’s my point. We’re supposed to be fucking and eating fast food. That’s actually what we would all do after a tag. Tag, hit the Wendy’s, hit the ’Gram, hit the sheets.”

“Were Jerry and Zed a thing?” Apollo asked.

Sol guffawed. “I knew you were a petty nigga,” she said, offering a dap.

Apollo pushed her hand away. “Well, were they?”

“Maybe. Not my place to say. And we didn’t hit the sheets that much, honestly. Mostly hit the jays.”

Apollo lowered himself to the floor and sat cross-legged, leaning back onto his hands. “Fuck,” he huffed. The fan cords jingled above him, snaking into clangs. Sol passed him the jug.

“Being small is hard, man. But you make it work. I know that owning a house doesn’t guarantee shit. I work at a fucking Waffle House, and I make just enough to cover bills and blunts. If the roof falls or I get robbed, my only hope is that Old National gets gentrified. You guys will be in school, and my family is waiting right outside for me to fuck up, so all I can count on are luck and the impossible.”

“I’m sorry,” Apollo said.

“I’m good. Uncertainty doesn’t scare me.”

“It scares me.”

“You seemed fine when your dad got home early.”

“Yeah, but I won’t let that happen again.”

Sol shook her head and stretched across the couch. “That was one thousand percent not the right answer.”

chapter 14

Wet grass splattered onto Theo’s exposed legs as he shook his soiled sneakers. The slimy texture disgusted him, but his legs were cooled by the grass’s moist touch. He leaned onto the handles of his lawn mower and surveyed the yard. It looked good, he thought, the trimmed rows almost perfectly aligned, just like his dad had taught him. He was only halfway finished, but he already felt the pride of a job well done.

A crack of thunder interrupted his moment of glory, reminding him that he was being rained on. Theo revved up the mower and started a new row, pleased that he had attached the receptacle bag at the last minute. “Pros always prepare for the worst,” his dad said. Theo agreed. Raking and bagging wet grass was certainly the worst.