“No, no. I can do it. You wait here.”
I heaved a deep sigh as Rufi disappeared into the back, leaning against the reception desk and beginning to anticipate the shower I was going to have.
And that’s when the text came in. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out, fully expecting that it would be Lamar, finally responding, and probably just getting out of lockup or having suffered some other minor calamity in what felt like an all-around calamitous day.
But it wasn’t Lamar.
It was Lila.
I waited in the lobby for her, sitting on the edge of one of the chairs in the guest waiting area, my leg nervously bouncing up and down. Rufi had gone back into the office when I told him I was waiting for a friend, telling me to holler when I was ready for him to let me up and into my apartment.
It took another twenty minutes for Lila get there, and when she did, she looked exhausted and wilted, standing just outside the lobby doors, peering in with those heavy-lidded eyes, looking dejected, sweaty, and even so, hella-cute.
I opened the door for her and she looked up at me, her shoulders lifting and falling in a deep sigh.
“Thank you,” she said.
“It’s cool. Lemme get …” I turned and went to summon Rufi who came back out, all smiles as usual, pushing the elevator button and standing aside for Lila and me to board first.
“Long day,” he said to her, by way of a conversation-starter as we ascended.
Lila nodded, and her eyes filled with tears. She turned abruptly away and Rufi glanced at me, worried that he had said the wrong thing. I shook my head to let him know it wasn’t his fault and none of us spoke again until we were standing in front of my apartment and he turned the key letting me and Lila in.
“Thanks, man,” I said. “I lost my wallet today or I would …”
“No, no. It’s not necessary,” Rufi said, frowning. “It’s my job. Take care. And … of your friend too.”
When I shut the door, Lila was just standing there in my small foyer, her backpack still on, arms at her side like she didn’t know what else to do. Putting a hand gently on her shoulder I spun her around and saw that the tears that had begun in the elevator were streaming down her face, and leaving streaks, through a little dust, and soot that had settled on her skin throughout the day.
As soon as I touched her, her silent tears became loud sobs, and I pulled her against me in a hug.
Turned out what I thought earlier was right. She was definitely the girl whose tears I would move heaven and earth to stop.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s okay.”
“I … I know it is,” she said, over hiccups. “I … I don’t even know why I’m … cry … crying.”
And then she cried more, and harder. And I held her against my sweaty chest, waiting it out, until she was able to make herself stop.
I peeled her backpack off her and let it drop on the floor near my front door and led her further into the apartment. Then we looked at each other. Lila turned away only to look at the view. One side of my apartment had large windows almost down to the floor, through which there was a great view of Billy Penn atop City Hall.
“I love this city,” she said.
And then she started crying again, but this time softly.
“Hey,” I said going to her, and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you go in and take a shower? Wash this day off you. I’ve got like a dozen frozen pizzas, so I’ll throw one in the oven so you can eat when you get out. And then … we can talk, or you can call you dad, or …”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’d love a shower.”
It was a scramble to find a clean towel, and an extra washrag but I did, handing both to Lila just before she disappeared behind my bathroom door. I listened, wondering whether she would engage the lock. I didn’t plan to go in of course, but it felt important that she not lock the door, that she trust me even though it would make perfect sense that she not. At least not completely.
She didn’t engage the lock, and I was surprised to be both happy that she hadn’t and annoyed with her. Tianna was right. She didn’t know me from a can of paint.
How the hell hadn’t she locked the damn door?
I busied myself with getting out a pizza, putting it in the oven and then calling my pops.
We talked, faux-casually for a few minutes and he didn’t ask me if I had gone out to join the protests. But I told him. I don’t know why, since that was definitely not our usual modus operandi.
“You did?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I think it’s gon’ get ugly tonight.”
“Well then I’m glad you went home,” he said.
“And what if I hadn’t?” I asked him. “What if … what if I was out there? What if I contributed to … you know … making things …”
“Then, Kai, I would think you were acting according to whatever your conscience allowed.”
“And you wouldn’t be mad?” I challenged.
“Oh, I would definitely be mad,” he said. “But some decisions, as you become man, aren’t mine to make.”
I smiled. “A’ight, well, I’ma get something to eat, and get clean,” I said.
“Okay, you do that. Call again tomorrow. Talk to your mother.”
“And Taylor?” I said, before he hung up. “How’s she …?”
There was a long pause, and then a sigh.
“I think she could use a conversation with her big brother.”
“Okay,” I said, my voice hoarse.
I took the pizza out of the oven just as I heard
