“He was good.” I touch Jamal’s shoulder. We both know Daddy hides things from each of us, and I’m usually the one who gets the real story. “Daddy knows you’d visit every day if you could. He knew why y’all didn’t come on Saturday. He was surprised to even see me that late.”

“Once college starts, I can’t manage every week.”

“He knows,” I say. “Daddy would be disappointed if you did. You need to take care of your business at Baylor.”

“Still…All right, then.” Jamal turns, taking the stairs two steps at a time.

“See you at the house.”

Jamal stops at the top of the stairs, pausing. I wait for him to speak.

“What’s up, Jamal?”

“I’ll be late. I gotta take care of some things. Cover for me with Mama.”

“Yeah.” I pause. “Okay.”

I stop to watch Jamal leave. Puzzled by his response. The first time he said he would be late, he was joking around, but this time there’s a heaviness to his words. Like something else is on his mind, but he just don’t trust me enough to not mess it up.

THE FAST AND

THE FURIOUS

I’m jolted awake by the shuffle of someone in the hallway. I rub my eyes, then realize what it is. Our upstairs toilet runs, especially at night when someone doesn’t give it a good flush. The sound won’t stop, so I force myself up.

I can’t help but run my fingers along the grooves of the walls, knowing Daddy’s the one who put them up. Every ding or repair is unchanged, like he left it. The only thing different in the house is my room. I’ve painted my walls a rotation of colors, hoping one of them would soothe away my bad dreams. Shake up the house enough to look different, but in the dark, I can see it like it was before.

“Hurry up,” I whisper at the bathroom door, so I don’t wake Mama.

Corinne doesn’t answer. When I notice the door is open a sliver, I push it, blink with the bright light blinding me for a second.

Jamal’s splashing water on his face. His eyes are shut as he wrings his hands together over the sink. I rub my eyes because it looks like red water swirling down the drain.

“Damn, Jamal. What happened to you?”

“Shit.” Jamal jumps back, grabbing a towel. His hands are all jittery as he cleans up his face, then bunches the towel into a ball.

I watch the last bit of pink-colored water disappear down the drain.

“Why you always in my business?” Jamal pushes past me, and I’m taken aback at his response. He sounds like he got caught, but I’d already known he’d be in late.