The backpack sat open on the bed, half-empty, and Kayla was standing in front of the closet.
“Kayla.”
“I’m looking."
“You’ve been looking for twenty minutes.”
She pulled a shirt off a hanger, looked at it, and put it back. Micah leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed.
"Where’s your toothbrush?"
“In the bathroom.”
“Go get it.”
“I’m getting it.”
"I don’t get why you don’t just leave one over there."
She turned around and looked at him. “Why don’t you leave one over there?"
He didn’t answer that.
She slung the backpack over one shoulder and stood there in the middle of the room.
“It’s not fair,” she said again. “You don’t have to go. You never have to go."
“You’ll get to decide when you’re older.”
“Like you do?”
He didn’t answer that either. He pushed off the doorframe and turned toward the hallway.
“Come with me,” she said. “At least tonight. Please.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve got stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“Stuff.”
She followed him down the hall, the backpack bumping against her hip with each step. “It’s so boring over there. There’s nothing to do. And the food is terrible."
“At least you have your own room over there.”
"You can say the same thing about being in prison."
He laughed. “White Mountain’s gonna be fun though."
"A bunch of four year olds running around and screaming. Sounds like fun to me."
"Now you know how I feel."
She stifled her smile on that one. They came through the living room and Delvin was on the couch. His chest rose and fell in the slow rhythm of somebody who’d been out for a while. The television was on but the sound was off.
Micah stepped past him. The floorboard by the door creaked and Delvin didn’t stir. Kayla followed, quieter, and the screen door slapped shut behind them both.
The fire was low when he got to it. He knelt and fed it another piece of wood, the kindling catching quick, the flames licking up the side of the log and throwing light across the faces sitting around it.
Kele was in the beach chair closest to the fire, the one with the cupholder that had been broken since last summer. Loma was on the blanket next to him, her legs folded under her, and Destiny sat on the other side of Loma, her phone in her lap, the screen lighting up her face every few seconds. Marisol was on the ground across from them, cross-legged, a can of something in her hand. Cheyenne sat next to her.
The rest of the group was spread out behind them. Ahote and Sik had claimed the bed of one of the trucks, their legs dangling off the tailgate. Dustin and Garrison were on the other side of the fire in a pair of chairs, the plastic creaking every time one of them shifted. Silas and Curtis were on the ground near the cooler, passing something back and forth. Brendan was on the far side, talking to Brianna and Tanya, their voices carrying over the crackle of the fire. Sihu and Yoki were on a blanket near the edge of the circle, their heads close together, laughing about something.
Micah pushed the log further into the center of the fire with a stick. The flames jumped and settled.
Cheyenne pulled a small bag out of her pocket and started rolling. She had the paper between her fingers, the lighter in her other hand, and she was about to spark it when Micah sucked his teeth and nodded toward Destiny, Loma’s sister and the youngest in the group.
Cheyenne rolled her eyes and got up, brushing the dirt off her jeans, and walked toward the tree line at the edge of the clearing. She sat down on a rock about thirty feet out, her back to the fire, and the lighter flicked.
Kele reached behind his chair and came up with the handle of Fireball. He held it out without looking, and Micah took it. The plastic was warm from sitting near the fire. He unscrewed the cap and took a swig. The cinnamon hit the back of his throat and he held it for a second, then leaned forward and spit a mouthful into the fire. The flames erupted, blue and gold, and the circle erupted with it. Kele laughed. Dustin whooped. Garrison clapped his hands together once. Destiny looked up from her phone and smiled.
Micah handed the handle back to Kele and sat down on the ground, his knees pulled up. He watched the fire settle back to where it had been, the new wood catching, the flames steadying. He let himself smile, just for a second, just to himself, and then it was gone.
“I’m telling you, bro,” Kele said. He took a pull from the handle and passed it to Loma. "There’s gonna be coaches from everywhere.”
Micah grunted.
"Boise was there last year. I think Arizona State too."
“I’ll check with my dad.”
Kele shook his head. “Man, I’m telling you. My only offer came from a camp. Ain’t nobody looking at your film unless they see you at a camp, bro. That’s just facts."
“I hear you.”
“So you’re coming?"
“I said I’ll check.”
Kele opened his mouth to say something else but Loma put her hand on his arm and he closed it.
From the tree line, Cheyenne’s voice cut through. “Micah.”
He didn’t look up.
“Micah, I’m serious. I’m hearing shit out here.”
“Probably a squirrel.”
“It ain’t no fucking squirrel. If I get mauled by something out here I’m gonna haunt your ass as a ghost. Every night."
He shook his head as he pushed himself up off the ground and started walking toward her.
Kele leaned back in his chair. “Just take her behind the trees and get it over with.”
Loma hit him. Hard, on the shoulder, and he laughed and grabbed her hand and she was laughing too, trying to pull it back.
The truck idled in the parking lot, the engine ticking under the hood, the AC blowing cool now that he'd been sitting for a minute. The go-kart track hummed behind the fence, the sound of the engines carrying over the noise of the lot. Somebody's birthday banner hung over the entrance gate, balloons tied to the posts on either side, sagging a little in the heat.
He checked his phone. No messages. He set it on the passenger seat and looked out the windshield at the entrance.
A family came out, the father carrying a kid on his shoulders, the mother pushing a stroller with the other hand. The kid on the shoulders had a balloon tied around his wrist.
He watched the entrance.
Valerie came through the gate first. She had a party bag in one hand, the kind with the tissue paper sticking out the top, and her phone in the other. She spotted him across the lot and raised her hand in a small wave. Kayla came through behind her.
He got out of the truck and nodded.
Valerie crossed the lot to the truck. She had a little bit of something on her shirt, frosting, maybe, or juice from the party, and she either hadn't noticed or didn't care. She set the party bag on the hood and leaned against it.
Kayla had already drifted toward the truck bed, peeling the wrapper down on her lollipop, not quite part of the conversation and not quite gone from it either.
"Thank you for making the drive all the way out here," Valerie said.
"It's fine."
"Seriously. You're a lifesaver."
He grunted.
She tilted her head toward the entrance. "You want to come in? They've got go-karts. Mini golf. It's pretty fun actually."
"Thanks but I'm good."
"Come on." She was smiling. "It's okay to have fun sometime. You don't have to be so serious all the time."
He let it sit there. She held it for a beat. Then it went.
"Alright," she said. "Well. Thank you again."
She pushed off the hood and went to the sedan parked a few spots over. She opened the trunk and came back with Kayla's backpack. Kayla met her halfway, already knowing how this part went, the half-hug, the cheek-kiss that landed somewhere between the cheek and the air beside it. Valerie straightened, smoothed Kayla's hair once with her hand, and looked at Micah.
He nodded.
She nodded back. Walked to the park entrance and went through it without looking back
Micah opened the passenger door. Kayla climbed in and pulled the seatbelt across her chest. He got in on his side and started the engine.
“You can have fun sometime,” she said, in a voice that wasn’t quite Valerie’s but was close enough.
He laughed. She laughed too, the sound of it filling the cab for a second before it died down.
The screen door was propped open with a brick. He could hear the television from the porch, some game show, the host's voice carrying out into the evening. He pulled Kayla through the door by the arm because she'd stopped on the porch to check her phone and they'd been standing outside long enough.
Kayla shook him off and went down the hall. He could already hear Arianna's voice from somewhere in the back of the house, and then Kayla's joining it, the two of them talking over each other the way they did when they hadn't seen each other in a couple of days.
The house was full the way it always was on Sundays. His grandmother was at the stove, her back to the room, moving between the pot and the counter without hurrying. His aunt was at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. Cedric, her son, leaned over her shoulder, showing her something on his phone. Somebody out back laughed at something, a man's voice who sounded like Makya, his grandfather, and then it was quiet again.
Delvin was in the chair by the window. Beer in hand, feet up, watching the television without really watching it. Jace was on the couch across from him, a plate balanced on his legs with the last of something on it.
Micah crossed the room and sat on the arm of the couch near Jace's feet. Jace didn't move.
"Dad."
Delvin didn't look away from the television. "Yeah."
"There's a camp. At NAU. End of June."
Delvin took a drink.
"What kind of camp?"
"For football. Some of the guys on the team are going."
Delvin was quiet for a second.
"As long as it doesn't interfere with the job," Delvin said. He still hadn't looked away from the television. "You wanted that job. A lot of other people did too. A lot of other people still want that job. Need that job."
"It won't."
Delvin grunted. Took another drink. The wheel on the television kept spinning.
Micah sat there for a second longer. Then he pushed off the arm of the couch and crossed back through the living room toward the hall.
He let it stay on his face for a second, just to himself, where nobody could see it. Then he kept walking.