American Sun

[Caesar]

Yuku / Tletl

Jill stood against the wall outside the clerk of court's office with her briefcase in her right hand and her phone in her left, a manila folder tucked beneath her arm where it pressed flat against the fabric of her blazer..

The courthouse held its midday stillness. Through the wall behind her she could hear the low murmur of the clerk's office, voices running over each other beneath the hum of the fluorescents, a printer cycling through a job in the back.

The door to the clerk's office opened. Micah came through with her messenger bag on her shoulder, a thumb drive in her hand. She dropped it into the bag, her fingers working the clasp, her eyes on the buckle as she stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her.

Jill pushed off the wall and stepped out in front of her. She pulled the manila folder from beneath her arm and held it out.

Micah stopped. Her weight rocked back a half step, her hand still on the messenger bag's strap. "Oh, I didn't expect to see you there, Ms. Babin."

Jill smiled and nodded. "I heard today was the last day for them to get some of your records that you requested so I thought I'd come down and give you this."

Micah reached out and took the folder. She opened it, her thumb holding the cover back, and looked inside. Pages filled the folder, dozens of them, text running in tight columns across each sheet with defendants' names printed at the top corners and case numbers beneath them. Black bars crossed through certain lines but sat thin enough that the text bled through the redaction in places. Micah's eyes moved down the first page, then the second, her fingers separating the sheets.

"What's this?"

"Something to help you with your reporting for your story."

Micah flipped through the pages again, her thumb catching the corner of each one and pulling it forward. Name after name, case numbers running sequential and non-sequential. She looked up from the folder.

"Is this supposed to be public record? Can you comment on any of this?"

Jill let a beat pass. "It's some of the same stuff you were requesting from the clerk. I just may have not redacted it as well."

Micah nodded. She closed the folder and slipped it into the messenger bag beside the thumb drive, the flap coming down over both. The buckle clicked once as she fastened it. She looked back up at Jill, her chin lifting a fraction.

"You know I'm not going to write this however you want it to be written just because you brought it to me, right?"

Jill smiled. "I wouldn't have brought it to you if I thought you were just going to write it to make the District Attorney's office look good. I know you have certain standards to uphold and I expect you to do just that."

Micah's hand adjusted on the messenger bag's strap, her fingers resettling around the canvas. "I'm going to want to interview you and any other prosecutors that worked on these cases for the story."

"Just call my office and make an appointment. I'll be sure to make myself available."

Jill turned and took a step down the hallway, her heels striking the tile in a steady rhythm, the briefcase swinging once at her side before it settled against her leg.

"Ms. Babin?"

Jill looked back over her shoulder.

"What is it exactly that you're trying to get from giving me this?"

Jill held her gaze for a beat.

"Justice is only ever delayed, Micah. Never denied."

~~~

Mireya sat in the leather chair with her weight settled into the back of it, her legs crossed, her hands resting on the armrests.

Fernanda studied Mireya's face for a beat. "You look more stressed than usual."

Mireya snorted a laugh. "How stressed do I normally look?"

"More stressed than a twenty-one-year-old should look, even one that's a mother of two."

Mireya's eyes moved to the window behind Fernanda, to the grey light, to the condensation that had gathered along the bottom of the pane where the warmth of the office met the cold outside.

"I don't know. I think I'm just tired from all of the traveling. All of the being 'on' all the time even though I'm just getting pulled into random pictures so Caine's brand manager doesn't get pissed off."

Fernanda's head tipped a fraction. "What do you have to do with Caine's brand manager?"

"I don't think she'd really get pissed off. Maybe she would. I guess I would if it was my job to make him look good. I don't know." Mireya's thumb found the seam of the armrest, her nail tracing the stitching where the leather met the piping. "But he won't play the evil baby mama card so I gotta be in the pictures."

"It's important to you to not come across as vindictive or hostile toward Caine, especially in the public. It would make sense that these last couple of weeks would take a lot of mental energy to get through while dealing with your own emotions."

"I didn't really have any emotions to deal with."

Fernanda let a beat pass. "So, you didn't care that you were being relegated to just the significant other in the pictures?"

Mireya's jaw shifted once "Well, I'm not the significant other. That's Autumn. And she ain't look too worried about it."

"That doesn't make you any less significant." Fernanda's weight came forward a degree in the chair, her shoulders leaving the back of it. "I watched Caine's speech. He mentioned you second, only after his mother. That was an intentional choice especially when he could've lumped you in with your daughters."

Mireya looked at the carpet between them. Her fingers adjusted on the armrest, her thumb pressing once into the leather before it settled.

"If he hadn't mentioned me in that damn speech then my phone wouldn't be blowing up every second with notifications of men from all over the country trying to slide into my DMs."

Fernanda's eyebrow rose. "Has that been happening?"

Mireya nodded. "I could probably make a bunch of money off them if I wanted to."

Fernanda's mouth pressed flat. "You shouldn't do that. That would be backsliding."

"They're walking right into it. That's not my fault."

"I thought you were worried about being outed."

Mireya shrugged, her shoulders lifting once and dropping. Her eyes came off the carpet and found Fernanda's face. "I am. But now I'm just the baby mama hanging on to get his money so people's opinion of me already dropping lower so what difference does it make?"

Fernanda held her gaze.

"It makes a difference to you."

Mireya shrugged again.

~~~

Ramon drove with one hand on the wheel, the two-lane road running straight between a bayou on the left and sugar cane on the right, the stalks standing thick and tall in rows that stretched back from the shoulder until they broke against a tree line a quarter mile off. The water in the bayou sat flat and dark, the surface holding the grey of the sky, cypress knees poking up near the bank where the mud had gone soft.

Tyree reached across from the passenger seat and tapped Ramon's phone in the cupholder, the screen lighting with the GPS route.

"Bruh, where the fuck these niggas got us?"

Bodie's voice came from the back seat, his shoulder pressed against the door behind Ramon. "That's how a nigga been feeling ever since me and E came cross the river into this podunk fucking state."

Ramon's eyes stayed on the road, the sugar cane running at the edge of his vision in a blur of brown and green. "Nigga, you live in Texas. One or two cities ain't saving that shit from being country."

"It ain't this."

E.J. sat beside Bodie in the back, his window down an inch, the cold pushing in through the gap. "You just ain't going where it's like this."

The GPS spoke from the cupholder, telling him to turn right in five hundred feet. The turn came up on the right side of the road, a paved street branching off the highway. Ramon slowed and took the turn. The car rocked once over the seam where the asphalt met the side road, the tires catching the rougher pavement, and straightened out.

Four houses sat a mile down the road, two on each side, set back from the pavement with gravel driveways. As the car closed the distance, two men came out of one of the near houses, both of them reaching their hands under their hoodies, their bodies turning to face the road.

Ramon's jaw set. "I hope you remembered to load them guns before we left the city."

Tyree reached between the seat and the console, his hand finding the grip of his pistol. He pulled it free and set it flat on his lap. "I always got my shit loaded."

E.J. sucked his teeth from the back seat. "We really about to get gunned down here in the fucking boonies."

Ramon followed the GPS past the first two houses, the two men tracking the car with their hands still under their hoodies. The road opened into a cul-de-sac where the other two houses sat, bigger than the first pair, the driveways wider, the yards running deeper before they hit the tree line at the back. A young man stood in the grass outside the near house next to a Pomeranian that was squatting in the yard, a pooper scooper in one hand and a blunt in the other, the smoke curling up past his face in a thin line.

Ramon killed the engine. He looked at Tyree, then checked the rearview where E.J. and Bodie sat. Then he opened his door. All four of them got out, doors opening in a staggered sequence, and tucked their guns into their waistbands, pulling their shirts over the grips.

The young man with the Pomeranian looked at the four of them standing in his cul-de-sac. "Who y'all?"

Tyree stepped forward. "I'm the nigga you shot at."

The young man pointed to himself with the hand holding the blunt, the cherry glowing at the tip. "Me? I ain't shot at nobody recently."

Ramon looked at Tyree, then at E.J. and Bodie, then back at the young man. "Is you Rome or Ro?"

"I'm Rome." He pointed to the other house with the pooper scooper, where another young man was coming down off the porch, his jaw set. "That's Ro."

Ro crossed the yard and stopped at the edge of the driveway, his weight settling back onto his heels. "Fuck y'all niggas want?"

Tyree stepped forward again. "I don't care who neither one of you niggas is. Which one of y'all shot at me?"

Bodie shook his head behind them. "You really a detective, my nigga."

Ro's chin lifted a fraction. "That was your people, bitch."

Ramon's eyebrow rose. "Our people?"

Ro nodded. "Them New Orleans niggas. We just trying to do business."

A young Black woman walked out of the house behind Rome, the screen door catching behind her. She crossed the grass to where Rome stood and said something to him that Ramon caught only the tone of, low and quick. Rome nodded. She turned and walked off, calling the Pomeranian by name. The dog lifted its head from the grass and trotted after her, its nails clicking on the driveway as it went.

Rome watched her go, then turned back. "Me and my brother ain't trying to start no shit with some niggas we can't afford to go to war with. We ain't shoot at y'all."

E.J.'s weight shifted beside Bodie. "Who it was then?"

"Information got a price, nigga," Ro said.

Ramon's jaw worked once. "We already know who it is. We just letting y'all say it."

Tyree's hand moved toward his waistband. "Fuck that. Just shoot these niggas."

Ro snorted a laugh. "You way down the bayou, nigga. You ain't making it out of here."

Rome held a hand out. "Ain't no need for all that. You want to talk? We can talk."

"Y'all lying," Tyree said.

Ramon shook his head. "I'll hear you out. But I'm shooting y'all niggas if I don't like what y'all say."

Rome's eyes moved from Ramon to Tyree to E.J. to Bodie, reading each of them in turn. The blunt burned between his fingers, the smoke rising thin in the cold air. "Alright then. Let's talk about your problem in New Orleans."

~~~

Caine sat at the outdoor table in the Tates' backyard with a plate of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables in front of him, the food still pushing heat into the air above it. Autumn sat beside him, her plate half-finished, a glass of lemonade sweating at her elbow, the ice catching the midday sun where it pressed down on the patio. Nadine and Garrison sat across from them, Garrison at the head of the table with his napkin laid across one knee, Nadine beside him with her reading glasses pushed up onto her head, the chain hanging loose against her collar.

Caine could feel the jeat on his forearms where his sleeves were pushed back, on the tops of his hands resting beside his plate. He cut a piece of the chicken and brought it to his mouth.

Garrison set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, his hand settling on the table beside his plate. "How does it feel to be the best college football player in the country?"

Caine finished chewing and swallowed. "It's crazy. I ain't even gonna lie to you. Doing it here at SC is different, too, because it ain't just a dude or two who got a Heisman."

Nadine nodded, her glass lifting from the table, the condensation leaving a ring on the stone. "You definitely had big shoes to fill when you got here."

Autumn's hand found Caine's forearm on the table, her fingers resting for a beat before they came back to her glass. "Caine was never going to shy away from the challenge, though. Right, bae?"

Caine held a hand up, his palm out, the gesture easy. "You know me. I ain't know bi—punk."

Garrison laughed. His hand came off the table and pointed at Caine. "You know, you might have a career in politics when you decide to hang up the cleats."

Nadine rolled her eyes, her glass coming back down to the table. "Could you stop trying to recruit candidates for at least one meal?"

Garrison's weight came forward in his chair, his elbows finding the table, the napkin shifting on his knee. "I'm being serious. When you've got the breath of fresh air, down to the Earth, everyman thing going on? The DNC doesn't have that right now. All they have are milquetoast white men who get angry when they don't win the Black vote." He leaned further across the table and gestured at Caine with his fork. "Caine? Caine would win the Black vote."

Autumn raised an eyebrow, her lemonade pausing halfway to her mouth. "I don't think Caine's politically motivated enough."

Caine snorted a laugh. "Not at all. They put me in jail for the crimes I committed."

Garrison nodded, the fork resting in his hand. He let a beat pass. "That's a fair point, but it's just something to think about. If the RNC can run whatever house nigga that wants to make massa happy then the very least the DNC can do is run Black people who are committed to advancing the cause of our people."

Nadine set her glass down with a soft click against the stone. "Alright, now. Don't get on your soapbox. We've all heard it a million times before."

Garrison held his hands up. "Y'all know me. I'm always planning ahead."

"You're forgetting, daddy, that Caine's going to be playing in the NFL for the next fifteen, twenty years." Autumn's body turned toward her father, one arm resting on the back of her chair. "That's a lot of time for the country to change and the DNC to get their heads out of their asses."

"You're right. As usual." Garrison's hands came back to the table, the fork settling beside his plate. "I guess I'll just stick to my original plan of getting you to D.C. so people forget how terrible of a senator Kamala was."

Nadine's head turned toward him, her eyes narrowing. "Don't be talking about our soror, now."

Autumn laughed. "For real. That's Madame Vice President to you."

Garrison looked across the table at Caine, his eyebrows rising, his mouth pulling flat. "A little backup here?"

Caine laughed. "You on your own. I don't know nothing about that."

~~~

Sena pushed the front door open and stepped into the foyer, the warmth of the house meeting her at the threshold. She slipped her shoes off and set them on the rack beside her mother's house shoes and her father's work boots. T

Minji came around the corner from the hallway with her house shoes scuffing the floor, her hair down past her shoulders. She reached Sena and pulled her in, her arms wrapping around Sena's shoulders, her chin pressing against the side of Sena's head.

Sena's body stiffened. Her shoulders drew up a fraction, her hands caught at her sides, her ribs locked against the pressure. The hug held for a beat with Sena rigid inside it. Then her hands came up and she put her arms around her mother's back, her palms pressing flat between Minji's shoulder blades.

They pulled apart. Minji's hands stayed on Sena's upper arms, her fingers gripping the fabric of her jacket, her eyes moving across Sena's face.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted to you, gongju. I just wasn't expecting you to—to—" Her mouth worked around the word she couldn't find.

"Be a lesbian?"

Minji nodded, her fingers tightening on Sena's arms before they loosened. "Yes. I don't want you to think that we don't love you because of that."

"I know you and appa love me."

Minji's hands came off Sena's arms. She gestured toward the couch in the living room, her body turning to guide Sena across the floor. They walked together, Minji's hand finding the small of Sena's back for a beat, and sat down side by side, the cushion giving under their weight.

"Your father is still angry. I won't lie." Minji's hands settled in her own lap, one over the other. "But not because of who you love, because you lied to us. I want to understand why you felt like you couldn't come to us and tell us the truth."

Sena sighed. Her eyes went to the carpet. "I don't know."

"It's not a phase?" Minji's voice came careful, measured. "You used to date boys."

Sena shook her head. "That was the phase. I've always been this way."

Minji nodded. Her fingers adjusted over each other in her lap, the wedding band turning once on her finger.

"Can you tell me more about Mireya? Does she treat you well?"

"Mireya has been through a lot. She has her moments but more than not, yes, she does."

"Your father is going to want to meet her parents."

Sena's jaw worked once. She looked at her hands in her lap, at her fingers laced against her thighs. "Her father left when she was young. Went back to Mexico. And she's not close to her mother, but that's not my business to tell."

"She doesn't have anyone helping her?"

Sena paused. "Her children's father's mother."

Minji reached over and took Sena's hand in both of hers, her fingers wrapping around Sena's palm.

"Sena, I don't like this for you. I'm trying to understand who you love and who you are, but something about this woman doesn't seem good for you."

"Eomma, she's the first woman to openly love me. I have to see if this can be something that is long term."

"You should find someone who doesn't have the baggage. You are young. You are beautiful. There is someone who can just be for you and not have all this other stuff."

Sena closed her eyes. She held them shut for a beat then she opened them and looked at Minji's face.

"You have to let me do this, Eomma."

Minji nodded, her fingers pressing once around Sena's hand before they settled. "I can't make any promises, but I'll try. I just want you to be happy."

"I'm trying. I really am. And I think Mireya is part of that."

[redsox907]

"I'm trying. I really am. And I think Mireya is part of that."

eomma right lil girl. You best run for the hills before she has you turning tricks

Tyree really that dumb? Threaten to gun a dude down in his own cul-de-sac without knowing how many more people waiting in them houses?

[Soapy]

"I'm trying. I really am. And I think Mireya is part of that."

eomma right lil girl. You best run for the hills before she has you turning tricks

Tyree really that dumb? Threaten to gun a dude down in his own cul-de-sac without knowing how many more people waiting in them houses?

Mireya being your source of happiness might be the biggest indicator that you are cooked

[Captain Canada]

She was a wet blanket 20 chapters ago, she's a bigger wet blanket now. Fuck Sena.

Garrison trying to get Caine to get into politics is hilarious. I'll tell you what though - a Guerra Administration would get that country clean as hell

[Caesar]

"I'm trying. I really am. And I think Mireya is part of that."

eomma right lil girl. You best run for the hills before she has you turning tricks

Tyree really that dumb? Threaten to gun a dude down in his own cul-de-sac without knowing how many more people waiting in them houses?

Mireya ain't never tried to get anyone into the life

He's not the thinker in the group, sir.

"I'm trying. I really am. And I think Mireya is part of that."

eomma right lil girl. You best run for the hills before she has you turning tricks

Tyree really that dumb? Threaten to gun a dude down in his own cul-de-sac without knowing how many more people waiting in them houses?

Mireya being your source of happiness might be the biggest indicator that you are cooked

She was a wet blanket 20 chapters ago, she's a bigger wet blanket now. Fuck Sena.

Garrison trying to get Caine to get into politics is hilarious. I'll tell you what though - a Guerra Administration would get that country clean as hell

I feel like your hate of Sena is just because she's close to Mireya.

He just thinking all these football players be Republican so he's trying to get one that's a Dem.

[Caesar]

Zun / Cuahuitl

Autumn came through the hallway with the box of garland balanced against her hip, the cardboard soft at the corners where the tape had peeled back, the plastic evergreen spilling over the edge where the lid had come loose on the walk from the garage. She turned into the living room, nudged a second box of ornaments aside with her foot, and set the garland down on the floor beside the tree.

The tree stood in the corner near the front window, bare, the branches fanning out in a stiff spread that still held the creases from being folded in the box. Sasha sat on the couch with the coffee table pulled close enough that her knees pressed against the edge, a knot of string lights piled in her lap, her fingers working through a tangle where three strands had wound around each other. She had one end of a strand pinched between her teeth while both hands worked the knot apart, pulling one loop through another, testing the give, feeding slack where it caught.

"I don't know why my mama got me over here helping you when she know damn well that you ain't coming nowhere near our house to help us."

Autumn sucked her teeth as she straightened up from the box, brushing the dust off her hands onto her thighs. "If Tee Viv asks me then I'll come, but if it's just to help you then you're on your own. Ask that man of yours or something."

Sasha snorted a laugh. She pulled the strand from between her teeth and fed it through a loop, the tangle loosening enough that one full strand came free. She dropped it onto the coffee table, the lights clicking against the glass, and went back into the knot with both hands. "You the one with a rich nigga. If either one of us need to be doing that, it's you. That nigga could get someone to come and pay to do this."

"I'd never hear the end of it from my mama if I had him pay someone to come decorate her house."

"That's because Tee Dine don't suffer no tricks in her presence."

Autumn pulled a length of garland from the box, the plastic needles catching on the cardboard lip before she freed them and gathered the strand over her arm in loose coils. She crossed the room to the stepladder standing open against the wall beneath the crown molding and climbed the first two steps, the metal frame rocking once before it settled.

She reached up and pressed the first section of garland against the top of the molding, holding it in place with one hand while the other felt along the painted edge for the hook her father had screwed in years ago.

"Back in her day, they were still saying it ain't tricking if you got it and he got it so what's that mean?" She pulled more garland off her arm and fed it toward the next hook, the coils unwinding as they went, the plastic needles brushing the wall.

"That he a whole trick. That's what it means."

Autumn found the second hook and looped the garland over it. She let the drape settle and checked the line, both sections hanging even now, the garland running in a smooth curve along the crown molding above the window. She stepped down one rung and moved the ladder sideways along the wall to reach the next hook.

Sasha had freed the second strand from the knot and laid it out along the coffee table, the lights running end to end across the glass, a few of the bulbs sitting crooked in their sockets. She tested the plug against the outlet behind the couch, the strand lighting up green and white, one section dead near the middle where a bulb had gone.

"Sounds like you're jealous that Julian told you that all he's getting you for Christmas is a box of Dollar Store chocolate."

Sasha pulled the dead bulb from its socket and held it up, squinting at the filament. She dropped it on the table and reached into a small bag of replacements sitting between the cushions. "Ain't Caine with his baby mama right now?"

"We're going to Vegas and Mexico after the season so there ain't nothing you can say that's going to have me in my feelings right now."

Sasha twisted the replacement bulb into the dead socket and the section lit up, the green and white filling out the full length of the strand. She unplugged it and started coiling it for the tree. "Yeah, he going to be south of the Mexican border alright."

Autumn hooked the next section of garland and let it fall into its drape, the plastic needles fanning out where the weight pulled them. She looked back over her shoulder at Sasha on the couch.

"Like I said, nothing. You can come up with whatever weird shit. I'll cry about it when I'm on a beach somewhere tropical."

~~~

Sena stood near the kitchen counter with her cup in one hand, her back to the cabinets, Priya and Cassidy beside her. The apartment was full enough that groups had broken into clusters across the living room and spilled into the hallway toward the bedrooms, voices running over each other above a playlist coming from the speaker on the bookshelf. Cups and bottles covered the kitchen counter behind her, a half-eaten tray of cookies sitting between a handle of vodka and a stack of red solo cups. David moved between clusters near the door, refilling a bowl of chips from a bag tucked under his arm, stopping to talk to a girl in a Santa hat who was showing him something on her phone.

Cassidy sipped her drink and looked over at Sena. "You should've asked Mireya if we could've used her house for this."

Priya lifted her cup toward Cassidy. "You mean Mireya's baby daddy's house."

Sena sipped from her own drink and rolled her eyes. "It's Mireya's according to anyone you ask that could have an opinion on it."

Alex came through the cluster nearest the door with a cup in her hand, an ugly Christmas sweater pulled over her frame, the knit pattern running reindeer across her chest in a line of red and green that clashed with the gold chain sitting at her collarbone. She had her hair pulled back, the clip holding it high off her neck, and a grin already set on her face as she stopped in front of them. She looked at Priya and Cassidy.

"Y'all should go mingle." She turned around and pointed across the room to where two guys stood near the window, one leaning against the wall, the other holding a beer with both hands. "That's Jason and Harry. Both of them are single and y'all are exactly their type."

Priya's head tilted. "What's their type?"

Alex laughed. "Anyone willing to talk to them."

Cassidy looked at Priya, her eyes cutting to the two guys then back. "They are kinda cute."

"They have something about them in a certain light, yeah."

Priya shrugged and the two of them pushed off from the counter, crossing the living room with their drinks, Cassidy said something to Priya on the way that made Priya's shoulder dip with a laugh. They reached the window and Cassidy opened, her hand coming out. Sena watched the four of them reconfigure into a circle, Jason leaning off the wall to make room, Harry shifting his beer to his other hand to shake.

Alex watched them for a beat, her cup against her chest, then turned back to Sena.

"I thought you would've flaked out on me for your girlfriend."

"She's in LA."

"Of course she is."

Sena brought her cup to her mouth. "Don't start that, Alex."

Alex held her hands up, the cup tipping in one of them, then brought it back down and took a sip. A group of three came through the kitchen behind Sena reaching for the bottles on the counter, their voices running loud for a beat before they moved back toward the living room. Alex stepped to the side to let them pass and ended up a half step closer to Sena.

"So what did you ask your rich sugar mama of a girlfriend for Christmas?"

"I told her whatever she wants to get me is fine."

"She's walking around in LV, Prada, Gucci. I would've asked for a fucking Birkin or two." Alex took another sip from her cup and then snapped her fingers. "Actually, text her right now and say you want a Birkin then give it to me."

"You're drunk."

Alex shrugged. "I'm just saying."

"You ask David for that ring you been after?"

"Something like that." Alex's eyes stayed on Sena's face. Across the room David had finished his rounds and settled onto the arm of the couch. "I got you something, though."

Sena raised an eyebrow. "Got me what?"

"It's a surprise. I'll give it to you when everyone leaves and David goes to his parents."

Sena turned her cup once in her hand, her thumb running the rim. "Don't do anything you're going to regret."

"It's nothing like that. It's an actual gift. I promise."

"I don't know if I should trust you."

Alex made the sign of the cross over her chest with her free hand, her index finger touching her forehead, then her sternum, then each shoulder. "If I'm lying, Jesus himself can strike me down."

Sena rolled her eyes. "I'm sure there are plenty reasons that might happen."

Alex smiled. The wink came fast, her mouth pulling at the corner. She shifted her weight and closed the last bit of distance between them until her shoulder was near enough that Sena could feel the warmth coming off the ugly sweater's knit.

~~~

Caine lay on the couch with Micaela propped up on his chest, his hands under her arms, her body sitting upright against his ribs. He scrunched his face and pushed his lower jaw out, his eyes crossing. Micaela's mouth opened and the giggle came out of her in a burst, her hands reaching for his chin, her fingers finding the stubble and gripping it. He straightened his face and she let go, her eyes wide, waiting. He did it again, a different face this time, his tongue pushing his cheek out from the inside. The giggle came faster, her whole body rocking with it, her feet kicking against his stomach through his shirt.

At the kitchen table Camila sat in a chair pulled close enough that her elbows rested on the edge, puzzle pieces spread across the surface in front of her. Mireya sat beside her, one hand flat on the table near the unfinished border, the other moving pieces around the pile with small pushes of her fingertips. She slid a corner piece toward Camila's elbow without looking at it, the motion casual enough that Camila picked it up a few seconds later and fit it into the border with a nod to herself.

Sara came out of the guest room down the hall with her hair wrapped up in a towel, the ends of it tucked at the back of her neck. She stopped at the edge of the living room. Caine could see her from the couch, her eyes moving across the room, from him and Micaela to Mireya and Camila at the table. A smile came onto her face and sat there for a beat before she crossed into the kitchen and pulled the refrigerator open, bending to reach the lower shelf, pulling out a pack of chicken thighs, a bag of yellow onions and a bundle of cilantro, setting each one on the counter beside the stove.

"When do y'all want to open presents?"

"Now, abuela. Now." Camila's head came up from the puzzle, her hands flat on the table.

Mireya laughed, her hand going to the top of Camila's head and running over her hair, smoothing it back from her forehead. "It's not even Christmas yet, mi amor. You still gotta wait."

Camila sighed, her shoulders dropping, her chin finding her fist on the table. "Okay."

Caine turned his head and looked back over the arm of the couch into the kitchen. "Puedes abrir dos, mi vida."

Camila's back straightened. "¿En serio?"

"Yeah, get one for your sister, too."

The chair scraped on the floor and Camila was up, her feet hitting the tile at a run, crossing the living room toward the tree in the corner by the windows. The tree stood tall against the glass, the lights wrapped around it throwing a warm glow across the presents piled beneath it, boxes stacked on boxes, gift bags wedged between them, the overflow spreading past the base onto the floor. Camila dropped to her knees in front of it and started reading tags, picking up a box, turning it over, setting it down, picking up another one, holding it to her ear and shaking it once before she moved to the next.

At the table Mireya shook her head but the smile stayed on her face. She reached across the puzzle and reorganized the loose pieces, sorting them by edge shape, pushing the ones Camila would need next toward the near side of the pile so when she came back to it the work would go faster.

Sara closed the refrigerator and turned toward the table. She set them on the counter and pulled a cutting board from the rack beside the stove. "Mija, have you talked to your family? Wished them Merry Christmas?"

Mireya shook her head, her fingers still sorting puzzle pieces. "No, and I ain't."

"Mija."

"Phones work both ways and I ain't changed my number."

Caine looked back at Micaela on his chest. "Facts." He pushed his lips out and blew a puff of air at her face. She blinked and the giggle came again, her hand swatting at his mouth.

Camila came back into the living room with two boxes stacked in her arms, her chin holding the top one in place. She set them on the floor in front of the couch, then turned and ran back to the tree. She came back with a small one, wrapped in red paper, and set it on Caine's chest beside Micaela. Then she ran back again, coming back with one for Mireya and Sara, setting it on the kitchen table between the puzzle pieces. Then one more trip, bringing one for Caine, setting it beside the others on the floor.

"I'm gonna wait, mi amor."

Caine looked over at Mireya at the table. "No, you gonna open that damn present. Right, mi vida?"

Camila smiled and nodded, already sitting down on the floor beside the couch, her fingers finding the edge of the wrapping paper on her first box. She peeled it back with care, her fingernails working under the tape, pulling each fold open without tearing more than she had to. Caine picked up the small red package from his chest and held it in front of Micaela, his hands guiding hers to the paper. Her fingers closed on it and pulled, the paper coming away in a strip that she held up and looked at before she dropped it and reached for more.

Mireya looked over at Sara across the kitchen. Sara nodded at the present sitting on the table between the puzzle pieces. Mireya rolled her eyes and reached for it, tearing the paper in two pulls and lifting the lid of the box underneath.

Camila gasped. She held the Nintendo Switch 2 up in front of her face, the box filling both her hands, the screen on the front of the packaging catching the tree lights behind her. "¡Gracias, mami! ¡Gracias, daddy!"

Caine looked over at her from the couch, Micaela still pulling strips of red paper off the small gift on his chest. He smiled. "You're welcome."

Camila stood with the box against her chest and leaned over the table to look at what Mireya had. "What you got, mami?"

Mireya pulled a jewelry box from the wrapping. She opened it. The necklace sat on a cushion inside, the chain fine, the pendant set with stones that threw the light from the kitchen across the velvet in small bright points. Her eyes widened.

"Caine, you meant to get me this?"

Caine snorted a laugh from the couch. "I bought it, huh?"

Camila leaned closer, her eyes on the necklace. "Mami, it's pretty! Put it on!"

Mireya took the necklace from the case, the chain pooling in her palm, and put it around her neck. The pendant landed against her chest and sat there, the stones picking up the tree lights and the kitchen lights and holding them. Sara stood at the counter with the cutting board in front of her and the knife in her hand. She looked across the room at the four of them, Caine on the couch with Micaela pulling at wrapping paper on his chest, Camila standing beside the table with the Switch box hugged against her, Mireya with the necklace settling against her skin.

~~~

Ramon stepped out of the car and pulled the ski mask down over his face, the fabric settling against his nose and chin, the eyeholes framing the street in two narrow ovals. He pulled his hood up over the mask and looked at the other three doing the same on the far side of the car, Tyree, E.J., and Bodie, their faces disappearing behind black fabric one by one.

Ramon nodded toward the duplex apartments at the end of the street, the two buildings sitting side by side, one dark, the other with light coming through the blinds of a front window. "Y'all ready?"

Tyree pulled the slide on his pistol and let it snap forward. "I been ready to get these niggas."

E.J. snorted a laugh and shook his head. Ramon crossed the street and moved along the near side of the closest house, staying off the sidewalk, his shoes finding the grass where it ran between the house and the driveway. He reached the back fence, a chain-link running waist-high with no barbed wire, and pulled himself over it, his hands gripping the top rail, his body swinging over and landing soft on the other side.

He held still for a beat, listening. Music came through the wall, low, bass sitting in the foundation. Voices inside, two of them, running over each other. He raised his hand above his head and waved for the others to follow.

Bodie's voice came from the other side of the fence, pitched low. "These niggas think they secret agents. We can't just walk 'em down?"

Tyree was already coming over the fence, his body clearing the rail, his feet finding the ground. E.J. followed, looking back at Bodie on the other side. "C'mon, nigga."

Bodie came over the fence last, the chain-link rattling once under his weight before he dropped down beside them.

…

Scottie sat on a couch with his phone in both hands, his thumbs working the screen. A half-empty bottle of Hennessy sat on the floor beside his foot. He turned his head toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms, raising his voice.

"Shad! Get your bitch ass back in here, nigga. We about to get some hoes over here."

Yola sat across from him in a folding steel chair, his phone in one hand and a blunt in the other, the smoke curling up from the cherry in a lazy line. His foot rested on a dumbbell on the floor, the rubber grip worn smooth. He took a pull from the blunt and let the smoke sit in his chest before he pushed it out through his nose.

"That nigga probably in there beating his shit so he don't nut quick the next time he see a bad bitch."

Scottie's lip curled. "Pause, nigga. That shit was crazy."

Yola waved the comment off with the hand holding the blunt, the ash breaking loose and falling onto his jeans. "You know what I meant."

Scottie turned his phone toward Yola, the screen angled so the light hit Yola's face. "Say, ain't this that bitch y'all used to be flipping?"

Yola leaned over and squinted at the screen. A photo of Mireya and Caine, the two of them standing side by side, a second picture of Caine and Autumn photoshopped next to it. He nodded. "Yeah, that's Luna freak ass. What's that from?"

Scottie shrugged, his thumb scrolling beneath the photo. "This say some WAGs of the CFP shit."

Yola snapped his fingers, the sound sharp in the room. "That's that nigga from the city that won the Heisman?"

Scottie tapped into the comments section, the text loading in a scroll, most of the usernames talking about Mireya, a few about Caine, handles and emojis running down the screen. He nodded. "Yeah."

Yola shook his head, the blunt burning between his fingers. "She done fucked her way to a rich nigga. That's crazy. That nigga probably ain't got no idea."

"We should hit her ass up. That bitch a throat GOAT."

"Let you do anything to her ass, too. Nasty nasty ass ho."

Scottie laughed, his mouth opening to say something else, and the back door exploded against the wall.

The frame splintered where the lock had been and the door swung wide, slamming flat against the plaster. Scottie looked up toward the doorway. The first shots hit him before he could move, punching into his chest and neck, the couch cushion behind him jumping with the impacts. His phone dropped from his hands and hit the floor.

Yola threw himself off the chair and hit the ground, his body scrambling across the floor toward the hallway, his hand reaching for the gun on the couch armrest. He got two feet before the four of them were in the living room, all firing, the sound filling the apartment in a continuous roar that swallowed everything else. Yola's body jerked where it lay and stopped moving. The dumbbell rolled once on the floor where his foot had knocked it loose.

The guns clicked empty. The room held the smoke and ringing silence.

Tyree pulled the ski mask off his face and walked over Scottie on the couch, the body slumped sideways, the cushions dark and wet. He dropped the empty magazine from his pistol, slapped a fresh one in, and racked the slide. He pressed the barrel against Scottie's face and fired three times.

"Should've spun on me again, bitch ass nigga. Fuck 110."

Ramon looked around the room, his mask still on, the smoke hanging in the air at chest height. "Y'all think these niggas got work in here?"

Bodie was already at the door, looking through the backyard toward the fence. "Cops probably on their way."

E.J. nodded beside him. "He ain't wrong."

Tyree spat on Scottie, the saliva landing on what was left of his jaw. He walked over to Yola on the floor and spat on him too. "Let's get the fuck out of here then."

Ramon reached down and picked up Scottie's phone from the floor. The screen had cracked where it fell but it was still on. He tapped the airplane mode icon on and slipped the phone into his pocket. He reached over and did the same with Yola’s. The four of them went out through the back door, the frame hanging crooked where the hinges had torn, and ran across the backyard toward the fence.

The apartment fell still. The smoke settled. The music still played from the speaker on the shelf, the bass line cycling through its loop, the same four bars repeating into the empty room.

Footsteps dragged on the hallway floor. Shad came around the corner with his gun held in front of him, both hands on the grip, the barrel sweeping the room as he stepped into the living room. He saw Scottie on the couch first. Then Yola on the floor. He stood there, the gun still raised, his chest moving under his shirt.

"Shit, man. Shit, shit, shit."

He lowered the gun and ran for the front door, yanking it open and pushing through the screen. He crossed the porch in two steps and sprinted across the front yard to his car in the driveway, pulling the door open and dropping behind the wheel. The engine turned over and he reversed out of the driveway, the tires screaming on the concrete, and tore off down the street.

[redsox907]

damn shame they didn't get Shad too. Something tells me it ain't done.

North Carolina ranked?! what in the world

[Captain Canada]

Bill Belichick over there sick as hell

Sasha got Autumn's ass in that first section, I won't hold you