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LANDON
The next morning, I woke up before Imani and rolled over to admire how the morning sun glistened off her brown face, making it glow. I brushed my fingers across her cheek, her skin so soft, and placed a kiss on her forehead.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I reached over and saw Kai’s name on the screen in Poison’s Discord chat without Imani. We planned shit in there that I didn’t want Imani to know anything about, especially after last night.
Kai: Good you left your house with Imani last night. Your upstairs windows are broken. Security cameras that I put up in front and back of your house show some guy from the police force did it last night.
Eyes widening slightly, I tensed and glanced down at Imani. She would freak the fuck out when she found out about this. She shifted in my arms and smiled against my chest, mumbling something incoherent.
I texted the group back.
Me: You two good?
João: Those fuckers didn’t bother Mom and Ana last night. Good here.
Kai: Fine.
Kai: I’m going to get as much info about the guy who broke the windows and send it to you when I do. We’ll destroy his fucking life. Then, I’m heading to your place to get the weed and shit from there. Anything you want?
Me: Nah, I’m good.
I didn’t have anything that I wanted saved. Mom and Dad had never saved anything from my childhood, no pictures, no memories. So, I didn’t give a fuck what happened to that house. We would find another place to put all our shit, in case the Redwood rich wanted to make another move on it.
After depositing my phone back on the nightstand, I glanced into my wallet to make sure that I still had my picture of Imani. It was the only one that I had, and I might have stolen it from this house one day that I snuck into her room.
Her mom had had it sitting in one of their picture frames, and I couldn’t fucking help it.
Mrs. Abara opened the door slightly and peeked inside the room while I quickly shoved it back into my wallet to hide it from her. “You awake?”
Part of me was pissed that she watched over Imani like a hawk all the time, but I wanted to take this time to talk to her. We never really had a civil conversation with each other, and if I really wanted this to continue with Imani, then I needed to at least talk to her, right?
Imani might’ve thought differently though. Maybe I should’ve too.
I slid out of the bed and pulled on my shirt from last night, then walked to the hallway, where Mrs. Abara stood uncomfortably.
She pressed her lips together and glanced back into the room at a sleeping Imani. “She’s still sleeping?”
“Yes,” I said after biting back a snarky reply.
After another couple awkward moments, she nodded. “Come with me to the kitchen. We’ll make breakfast for her. She loves waffles with strawberries with a large glass of chocolate milk on Sunday mornings.”
She walked down the hallway toward the stairs, and I stared in surprise at her. When I had stepped out of the room, I really hadn’t thought that I was going to be asked to make waffles and breakfast for Imani with Mrs. Abara—one woman who loathed Poison. But … she had let me stay over last night in her daughter’s room.
So, I followed her down the stairs to the quiet kitchen. Snores from Mr. Abara drifted down the stairway and into the room, but Mrs. Abara quickly shut the door to drown them out.
Opening the fridge, she pulled out some fresh fruit and milk. “Do you know how to cook?”
“Uh …” I scratched the back of my head. “Not really.”
“Your parents never taught you?”
Clenching my jaw slightly, I grabbed the food from her and set it on the counter. “No. My mom and dad never really were around to teach me any shit. They’re gone for good now. At least … I hope they are.”
With her back turned toward me, Mrs. Abara tensed for a moment. “Mr. Abara’s parents were never there either. I can’t say that I relate to you at all, but he’s told me stories about it. I’ve had to teach him a lot of things.” She nodded to the knife. “Why don’t you wash and cut the fruit? If you’re going to date my daughter, then you have to learn how to cook.”
Once I washed the strawberries, I spread them out on the cutting board and went to work on cutting them. I never really cooked, usually just picked shit up from the store or school. Mom and Dad had never really taught me how to do any of this.
What great parents they were …
