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2. 🍸 Shot Glass

KEKE

Sixteen years ago

“Keke!” Lilli emerges from her English class like a regal queen. She keeps walking, even as guys box her in, trying to grab her attention.

A common occurrence reserved for pretty girls like her.

“Hey, Lilli, you wanna go see that new Avengers movie?”

“Naw, man, she goin’ with me.”

“Fool, please. She don’t wanna see that sheeit. She likes them dramatic movies, don’t ya, Lilli?”

Spotting me, she pushes past them, running the last steps. My nickname, “Keke,” expels through her lips with an ear-splitting squeal.

I meet her in the middle of the hall. Our hug is one of long-lost friends, and the dramatic air kisses we give each other, garner laughs from more than a few students.

We have been besties ever since Lilli and I had met on the first day of third grade as we waited in line to play on the swings. From that day forward, we were tight. So much so, people call us the opposite twins. We were sisters who couldn’t look more different.

Her skin is dark. Mine is lighter.

She has relaxed hair. I’ve been wearing my hair natural since the womb.

I am tall and thick. She is petite with thin girl curves.

We are at near opposite ends of the black girl spectrum, each with different backgrounds and different shapes. Instead of our body types and varying shades tearing us apart; it bonds us together. Through thick and thin, our friendship has lasted over time because we recognize what the other has to offer: loyalty.

We also don’t feel the need to tear each other down to make ourselves look good.

The outside world does that enough.

A large shadow, belonging to Principal Betts, encompasses us, breaking off my thoughts and blocking out the light.

“Lilli Wilson and Kiara Jones, what have I told you two about raised voices in the hall?”

Today is the last day of school and everyone is excited. The seniors are especially whooping it up. Why Principal Betts singled us out, I will never know. However, what I do* know* is I had better apologize and quick ‘coz this man doesn’t play.

“We are sorry, Dr. Betts,” Lilli and I say in unison. Lilli goes a step further to act the part by turning her hazel eyes down, pouting her lips, and tilting her head to the side.

Several guys in the hall stop clowning to stare.

The principal’s stern features soften.

I turn my head and roll my eyes.

Lilli has everyone, including Anderson Strict AF Betts, under her influence.

My girl has always had it like that. She has the face and body that turns men’s heads...even though she is only fifteen.

Same age as me.

“You girls have a great summer,” Principal Betts says, striding off to put a stop to Antonne Carmichael’s and Deedee Anderson’s roving hands and smacking lips. “And stay out of trouble!”

Lilli loops her arm through mine and giggles. “No chance of that, huh Keke?”

I laugh, pushing open the main door. Arm in arm we step outside to freedom and the Oakland, California sunshine. Done with our freshman year, we have the whole summer to hang out in the park, watch movies, and post to our Insta.

Life can’t get any better.

I take one step towards home before Lilli pulls me the opposite way with a tug on my pink hoodie. “Let’s walk down to the corner store. I want a bag of Doritos.”

“You go. I am going home. My mom—”

“Come on Keke,” my girl says, removing her arm from mine to turn and face me.

I smooth my hoodie over the top of my dark-washed jeans. “I don’t know, Lilli. Dad works late tonight at the garage and Mom needs me to watch Trey, so she can get ready for her shift at the hospital.”

At twelve and taller than me, Trey can take care of himself. Mom just wants me there, so he doesn’t take stuff apart without supervision. Like that time two years ago, when Trey dismantled the TV after it started belching smoke.

That happened a few months ago. Mom and I had gone to the big Walmart in San Leandro and left my brother under my Dad’s care. That didn’t last long. After working late into the night, Dad had gone to the master bedroom and fallen asleep.

Mom’s scream woke him up.

Dad came running, slipping on a t-shirt as he came around the corner.

Chips, nuts, bolts, and wires, lay scattered on the tiled floor. Trey had taken the TV down to the bare bones. My brother, paying no one any mind, talked to himself as he put the TV back together. After a few minutes of hesitation, Mom and Dad let him be. Like me, they wanted to see what would happen.

Trey was always repairing something in his room and had fixed the dishwasher when he was eight. Maybe he could get the TV to work as well?

Two hours later, it was better than new.

I got the sass while Trey got the brains. Go figure

“I’ll buy you a bag of gummies and a Coke,” Lilli says, overriding both my thoughts and obligations in one go.

An ice-cold Coke sounds good right about now, and I’d walk a few miles for a bag of Haribo bears. Matter of fact, I should walk more. My jeans are getting kinda tight.

“Okay, you win.” I say, giving in. “But I will only stay a minute—”

Lilli squeals in excitement, jumping up and down and clapping her hands as if she’d just won a Grammy.

One day, she just might.

Besides being the student with the highest-grade point average in our school and the prettiest girl, Lilli can sing.

Really, really well.

During our school play, The Mistress of Carnegie Hall, she got a standing ovation for her rendition of And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going.

“Okay. Okay. Settle down,” I say, giving her a faux frown.

Lilli complies by blowing me a kiss and snaking her arm through mine once again. We walk in silence for a minute before she asks, “When do you want me to come over and do your hair?”

Lilli is always angling for a chance to stay at our house, mainly because her sister, Tia, has a handsy boyfriend. Anytime he is over, he puts the moves on her. Lilli has tried to tell her mom and Tia, but with Tia being the favorite, no one believes her.

I swear if Lilli’s home life were an emoji, it would be smh...or maybe the barf one.

It is a damn shame Lilli’s mother doesn’t do more mothering and less working.

Again, Tia’s fault.

Girl is twenty and refuses to get a job other than catering to her boyfriend, who is as worthless as she is. He has given Tia a baby and will he take care of it? No siree.

So, between Tia, Tia’s baby, and Lilli, their mom Deidre works two jobs to make ends meet. Woman is rarely home except to sleep.

I guess her being so tired is why she ignores all the condoms in Tia’s garbage can. I guess at least they use them now.

“So, when do you want me to come?” Lilli prods as we round the corner.

“You can come over today, if you want. My mom bought all the hair stuff, so—”

Lilli stops short, halting me.

Her fingers dig into my forearm and the register of her voice lowers with fear. “It’s them, Keke.”

My eyes follow the direction of her gaze.

A block away, two boys walk through the open door of the corner store.

“Are those the idiots you told me about?”

Lilli nods. Her eyes wide and scared.

Anger courses through me. My skin prickles with heat. I curl my hands into fists, blood pumping hot in my veins.

Last week, Lilli had gone to the store to pick up some milk for her cereal ‘coz Tia’s boyfriend had emptied the carton.

Lilli’s small frame had shaken as she relayed her encounter with the three white guys. She said they had catcalled her when she came around the corner. With creeps, as she always did, she ignored them, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

One of the three, a guy with a scar from his left cheek to the top of his lip, had taken exception. He had reached out and pulled her to him, putting his hands where they didn’t belong.

According to Lilli, one of the guys, the one with eyes like some white beached sea, had pushed the handsy-guy off her. The other one, thin and kinda tweaky-looking, hung back, waiting for the outcome.

Lilli had left them to it. When she came from the store, they had gone.

Now, they are back. Mr. Lean and Mr. Mean.

I head towards the store, my hands aching to do damage. I am like my dad—big, full of sass, and not afraid of nothing, especially a punk who put his hands on a member of my family.

Lilli, knowing what I am about to do, grabs my hoodie. I drag her along, my white Converse slapping the concrete. A red-haze colors my sight.

When we reach the front of the store, I plant one shoe inside, my eyes on the move.

The first thing I notice, Mr. Patel, the storeowner, has his hands up.

The guy who must be Mr. Mean—has to be, with that scar on his face—points the biggest gun I have ever seen in my life at Mr. Patel’s chest. The metal of it is dark...sinister, like the deepest part of midnight.

My ears clog.

I can’t hear a damn thing over the thundering of my heart.

Lilli has a death grip on my hoodie. The material twists around my waist like a tight inner tube, pulling at me.

As much as I want to...need to...I can’t move. My shoes stay glued right where they are. My heart pounds in my chest so hard, the beat rattles my teeth.

In slow motion, Mr. Lean shouts at Mr. Mean and points in our direction.

Someone screams.

Sounds like Lilli.

The high pitch breaks through my fog and I turn to run.

A loud boom, like cannon on a battlefield, reverberates in the small space. Another rings out before I can process what is happening.

The pull on my hoodie disappears.

Lilli is on the sidewalk, blood blossoming from the left shoulder of her white peasant blouse. Her blue jean skirt has ridden up on her thighs. Her backpack lays open, its contents scattered on the ground, and her turquoise day journal, in which she writes snippets of her life, has blood… Lilli’s blood splattered on it. Glass lies sprinkled on the sidewalk, winking in the sun.

Something slams into me.

I head towards the ground with my hands splayed to break my fall.

From the corner of my eye, I see a flash of blue and red. The sirens hurt my ears...

With the next boom, my body bellows its pain.

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