Regardless of what Shadow said, Dario was the first person on my radar as a perpetrator. Pleading with him to let me at least speak with Dario was an endless fight. Shadow refused because of the time of day. To quiet my relentlessness, he agreed to pick both Lawrence and I up after sunset so that we could sit down, face to face, with Dario.

"I have work tonight," Lawrence pointed.

This slight comment made Shadow raise his shoulders. "You can call in a sick day, I'm sure. Don't you want to get to the bottom of this?"

Money was tight lately. The number of hours in our shifts at work were decreasing for all three of us, making us drown in the bills we use to manage well.

"You should go in," I offered, "I don't mind going alone."

Lawrence shook his head. "We can go together when I get off. How about that?" He turned to face Shadow. "Would that be okay with you?"

The corner of his mouth went downward, but then he gave a small shrug that seem to read off a different expression entirely. "I don't see a problem in that. I'll see you around three o'clock, if that works."

Exchanging a look with my cousin, we both shared a nod.

....

Alarm clocks didn't work on me. Because of Jamila's absence, I almost missed my online class at noon. I had the habit of setting a pre-alarm for the actual alarm, and then two more after the time I was meant to be awake. Despite the lengthy attempt, I listened to shrieking for a matter of five seconds before completely shutting my phone off – probably seventy percent of the time.

This was when Jamila would typically step in.

Ever since we were kids, she acted as the mother I never had. Most would think that she was the older one, however, that wasn't true. Measuring the distance of time between our birthdays, one would see that I was about three years, five months, and three days older than her. I always added the last bit, making her roll her eyes in response every time.

"I bet people only think you're older because you're taller than me," was what I'd usually say in response.

"Nah," she would always disagree, "It's 'cause you collectively house one brain cell in your head."

"No, I don't!" I shouted. "I'm smart."

"Beverly," she said, using my old name whenever we were in private. She said it again, so softly and sweet, it almost made me not realize the sting of what she was about to say next. "Beverly, I've seen you try to explain basic things before. I swear, most would confused you for a patient suffering from a concussion."

Calling her a bitch would be a light term.

Stupid ass heifer would be something Lawrence would slip up and say.

At the end of the day, I loved Jamila because she was more than those small moments. And in this very second, I missed having her around and seeing her face in the early hours of the day. Little to no energy sprung out of me while opening my laptop, and I struggled to keep my eyes open after logging in to my student portal.

A year ago, I decided to finish the degree I started in my late teens. Having to pick up and move so often, every few years, made it hard to solidify myself in one singular field. Taking a pledge to my future self, I promised I would at least attempt to get an Associate's Degree. After seeing an ad for cheap online and on-ground classes at the local junior college, I reorganized my daily schedule so that I could add in two classes in between my full-time work.

After enrolling, I didn't tell anyone I joined. And even now, a week before finals, I still didn't tell either of my cousins about my plans to further my education. I hinted the idea to Lawrence, but...with Jamila. I stayed silent with her on that, not even vaguely showing interest in the idea of going back to school for a degree. Honestly, I wanted my mindset to change, but I knew that I was only shielding my peace by not telling her. So far, I was passing my courses with high markings on all the assignments. All alone in my room, I had a mini celebration after seeing my midterm results. Momentarily, I thought how different it would've felt if I had shared that with Jamila. Almost instantaneousness, I shoved that feeling away – knowing very well I might've not gotten to this stage if I'd spoiled the news early and told her.

As sad as it was to face and admit, some of the loudest people were the most insecure. I understood that she questioned her own intelligence repeatedly. We all did. Her fears, though, were written as clear as ever in her brutal remarks, creating a window into her broken image and lack of self-worth.

....

"Damn, do you really think Nicole Kidman is 5'11"?" Lawrence inquired, reading something off of his phone, "That's one big bitch."

"Shut-it. A year ago, you would've called her an Amazonian Goddess," I warned, sifting through the papers on the desk. His tall phase had faded and now he was in the part of his life where he judge women to an extreme level - so extreme that even he couldn't live up to the standards. "What the hell are you doing anyway? I told you to help me look for Shadow's number."

When Shadow dropped me off, he wrote his number on a Starbucks coffee sleeve that was laying around as though we were in some rom-com movie in the early 2000s. Why didn't he just write it in my phone like a normal fucking person?

It was a little passed eleven o'clock. Lawrence had been back from work for over two hours - but there was still no sign of Shadow.

"I'm asking serious questions about height inflation."

"You make no sense," I announced, squinting at the squiggly numbers, hasty written on the cardboard heat protector sleeve. "I don't even want to ask what you mean."

"Too late," he sang. Clearing his throat, he slapped his phone down on the kitchen counter. "Height inflation happens in Hollywood all the time. People add two, maybe even three inches to their real height. Plus, I'm pretty sure there's a saying that a lot of people look taller on TV."

"I'm highly positive it's 10-pounds extra. It has to do with weight, not height." Before letting him go on the defense, I placed a finger to my mouth, escaping a hush from my lips. "The phone's ringing."

After a brief call, Shadow apologized for the delay. He admitted that he got held up doing a job for his brother, remaining unspecific in his detailing and leaving it at 'I'll be there in five minutes.' I thanked him for his help, and ended the call.

"Great, he's on his way." I told my cousin. Completely in a galaxy of his own, Lawrence gaped at his phone. I rolled my eyes. "What are you looking at now?"

"Do you know how tall Taylor Swift is? She's--"

I held my hand out. "I'm warning you. You better choose your next words carefully."

Lawrence knew very well that Jamila and I shared a common liking for Taylor Swift. When it came to the arts, we found ourselves enjoying the same singers and similar films. Lawrence wasn't dumb enough to openly insult my favs.

"Oh, don't worry," he said with a huff, "I plan on using both my legs for the next two weeks. I'm not saying anything other than: 'I bet she drank a lot of milk growing up.'"

Smart boy.

...

Shadow apologized for a second time when we entered the car, reiterating that he didn't intentionally forget. Once more, I assured him that there wasn't any bad blood between us for his slip up. Buckling up in the passenger seat, I lowered the dial that was blasting hot air.

"Fuck, it's like a sauna in here," Lawrence noted, "Are you trying to cook us alive?"

"Shut-up," I uttered through gritted teeth. Don't embarrass me, was something I should've said before exiting the house and entering this car. "That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny. I'm legitimately worried for my health. Can I crack open a window before I get a damn heat stroke? May I remind you, I'm a Californian. I melt under extreme temperatures."

"Please excuse my annoying cousin," I whispered to Shadow as he reversed out of his parking spot. "He doesn't have many social skills. Especially when it comes to keeping things to himself."

"Uh, if I really wanted to make this a TMI moment," he chimed, "then I would have led with: 'The heat is making my balls sweat.'"

"Ohmigod!" I slapped my hand to my temple.

A soft chuckle emitted out of Shadow, enjoying the tasteless remark Lawrence said.

"He's hilarious," Shadow said the unthinkable. "I like him."

Well, wasn't that just perfect.

....



The Blaine estate stood beyond a black, iron gate that appeared polished -- almost reflective the closer we got to it. When the headlights hit them, they shimmered like crystals. My eyes pealed up to the red bricks wrapped in ivy around the exterior of their home, making it seem frozen in a hidden, secret world of its own. Blades of grass swayed, moving in the presence of two rabbits running passed the front of the house. Because of the number of lights attached to trees and the outside of the house, my vision wasn't hindered by the darkness.

Shadow pulled into a circular driveway that looped around a stone statue. A man, seated on a stump with his hands covering his face, dotted the center of the high pillar it was on.

"My brothers should be all inside." Shadow turned off the car.

"Is it okay if I used the restroom first?" Lawrence asked when we got to the front steps.

"You're more than welcome to," Shadow insisted, unlocking the door and then directing Lawrence on how to find the bathroom.

Being in the foyer, I couldn't make out much of the house. Unlike the outside, the inside was gloomy, poorly lit. It was difficult to make-out the type of paintings they had framed, or even the true color of the rug I was standing on. Something about it all made me uneasy, waiting for someone to leap from out the dark.

"Where would Dario be?" I jumped to the case.

Shadow didn't fight to hide his smile. Extending his hand out, and gesturing to the stairs, he said: "Right this way."

...

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