Shianne responded with a rock-steady middle finger that got Tanisha and crew popping their necks and angrily gesturing in my rearview as we cruised past.

I said, “Y’all are closer than ever, I see.”

“I can’t wait to get out of this town, Del.”

We turned a corner and approached Shianne’s distinct home, which reminded me of a mini version of the White House. It was pale, close to gray, with these columns bordering the front door. I parked in her driveway and she led me inside, triggering such a strong sense of déjà vu that the crying baby confused me a minute. Like, whose kid was that?

Missus Griffiths met us in the foyer, with a fussy little Zoey on her hip. “Shianne, this baby has been cranky all day and I couldn’t get anything done.” She’d been laser focused on Shi, and only seemed to recognize my presence after she spoke her piece. “Del, what are you doing here?”

“I’m going to help Shi get caught up on some schoolwork.”

“Lovely. I hope you two can work with Zoey in the room,” she passed the baby, who began shrieking like she saw evil spirits, “because I had to move all of my conference calls to late afternoon.”

Shianne bounced her daughter lightly while flinching from her screams. “Are any bottles ready?”

Missus Griffiths was already backing into her home office. “In the fridge.” The last word was clipped by her slamming door.

Shianne said, “You remember where the family room is?”

“Of course.”

She motioned in the general direction, and broke off to get Zoey’s meal.

I delved deeper into the house, making familiar turns while cataloging changes. A thick hallway runner now covered what were once bare floors. The walls were a different color, pale green. It smelled different, some strong, cotton-y air freshener plugged into the wall.

The family room was pretty much the same, with the exception of a newer, wider television. I fell into my old preferred seat at the corner of a plush sectional sofa and turned on ESPN.

While random highlights played, my phone buzzed. I slipped it from my pocket, read.

Kiera: Del, I’ve been thinking of our final presentation. I have a couple of ideas, but maybe we should loop in Jameer? He’s always got good input.

My head got airy, like the time me and Qwan spent way too long making our voices funny off the helium tank at the school carnival. I’d pulled a Qwan move, deliberately avoided texting Kiera first since we exchanged numbers. Risky, but important to sell the “Pastor wants this” part of the plan. I couldn’t seem too eager. That she wanted to include Jameer didn’t bother me much—I’d kind of expected it. He was on my team, so I could work that, too. I responded with giddy speed.

Me: Cool. Should I pick y’all up on Friday?

Kiera: I’ll ask my dad to drive me and J. Less complicated that way, trust me. Six o’clock?