Page 21 of Kisses Behind the Spotlight

“What, nigga?” Xain rasped into the phone after my mom left the camera.

“Aye. I’m going to say this once so you both can hear me. We are about to enter a legit team meeting, so everybody act like we are on the clock. Cool?”

Khaleesi rolled her eyes, and Xain gave an audible confirmation.

“On that note, I’m going to eat my salad by the pool with Mama Marissa and Yasser.” Jameera grabbed her plate and headed for the sliding glass doors.

“Alright, y’all have to get your shit together. Y’all can’t be beefing every time y’all are around each⁠—”

“Fuck that, Khaleesi tried to kill me with the flu. Plus y’all don’t have to admit it. I know she put those fuckin’ iguanas in my rental. Ion wanna hear this shit for real. Look at my motha fuckin’ eye,” Xain leaned closer to the camera, giving me a better view of his battered face. I can’t breathe out my nose; my chest hurts like a motha fucka when I try to breathe,” Xain ranted for a moment before he started coughing.

“Now look who’s choking on his phlegm. Sounds like pneumonia is about to handle my lightweight!” Khaleesi shouted across the kitchen island.

“See, this hoe should be charged with attempted murder! She’s trying to kill me, and I’m supposed to just take this shit?”

“Aye, man!” I roared, over their bullshit. “If y’all can’t get along and are going to keep acting like fucking toddlers, one of y’all is going to be without a job. If I wanted to referee kids, I would put Yarissa and Fallon on payroll.”

Xain coughed into the phone again before the call disconnected. Khaleesi placed her hand over her chest and offered me a pair of puppy dog eyes.

“You would pick that nigga Xain over me?” Khaleesi questioned in a dramatic tone, with her face fake screwed up. “I know when I’m not wanted.” She took a deep breath and pushed the half-eaten plate away from her.

“Khaleesi, please,” I called her out. “The shit is ridiculous. I love both of y’all. Y’all are both family, and you are both great at your jobs, but I can’t have y’all drama bleeding into my shit. Now Xain is going to be down for days, and Duke is going to have to step up for a third time in what? Two weeks! This shit gotta stop.”

“Xain is a demon, so I’ll start bringing around holy water, and I will try my best to ignore him from now on,” Khaleesi promised.

“I appreciate that, Khaleesi. Y’all be giving me PTSD. I be feeling like I have Yarissa and Fallon together when y’all cross paths. Y’all bicker just like them. They are eight and nine! Stop acting like elementary-aged kids.”

“Ohhhh Big Brudddddder!” Yarissa sang behind me, and my neck snapped around, forgetting whatever I was previously saying.

I was just talking shit about Yarissa, then here she came, her tiny twig-sized legs moving rapidly towards me. The oversized silver and blue Cinnamon Roll bookbag bounced on her back with each step. Yarissa wore her navy pleated skirt and white collared uniform shirt with her hair pulled up into two afro puffs.

“Wassup baby sis?” I stepped in Yarissa’s direction, meeting her halfway.

“Big Brudder, I just told Milly I was going to call you as soon as I got in here because she’s playing. But you came to see me in person,” she bubbled, showing off a grin that was missing her right canine tooth.

“Yarissa, please,” Amill waved her off.

“What were you going to call me for?” I inquired.

“To beg!” Amill shouted, continuing into the kitchen. “What Mama Marissa made? I know that’s why everybody is over here.”

“Salmon and avocado salad,” Khaleesi announced, shoveling more food into her mouth.

“You have ice cream on your shirt. Amill picked you up from school and took you to get ice cream, but you ain’t call me?”

“Yes, but then Milly wanted to act broke,” Yarissa called her out. “I should’ve called you Big Brudder.”

“Girl, wasn’t nobody acting broke,” Amill interjected.

“What she made you pay for your own ice cream?” I pried.

“No. I asked her to buy me a few Beanie Babies to add to my collection, but she told me, ‘that’s too much money, I’m not paying for that.’” Yarissa mocked her voice, talking with her hands just like Amill would.

I burst out laughing, always entertained by the two.

“I’m absolutely NOT paying twenty thousand American dollars for some stuffed animals,” Amill refuted, tilting her head to the side.

“A twenty ball?” I sputtered, eyes blinking rapidly while I peered down at Yarissa.