The bare walls, spare furniture, and layers upon layers of industrial white paint, which covered everything, including light switches and a few cockroaches, weighed heavily on Elias.
“This place is small as hell,” Elias said. “I’d probably bump into myself by mistake.”
Moodie brought in Elias’s second suitcase and placed it in the center of the room. “It’s either this or you live with me. I just thought you’d want a little independence.”
“I’m not complaining, Mood. It reminds me of home,” Elias replied honestly. He pushed his bags into the corner, where they’d stay, still packed, until he was ready to go back to New York. “Thanks.”
“You’re family,” Moodie said. “Now, I’m about to go home. Do you want to come over for something to eat?”
Elias thought a moment. “Nah, it’s cool. I’ll figure something out.”
Moodie put a hand on Elias’s shoulder. “I know you don’t want to be here, but I’m glad you came, nephew.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you bright and early.”
Elias dropped his belongings onto the floor and lay down on the bed, feeling the dull ache in his face as he shifted positions.
He rubbed his arm as he got up and walked into the small bathroom. He had to suck in and flatten himself to fit inside because the door hit the toilet, making it impossible to open all the way. He yanked the cord to the light bulb on the ceiling. It was more of a large closet than a room, and like most things in his life right now, it was just transitory. The mirror was distorted in the corners, and one side was a few millimeters lower than the other. He would fix it in the morning.
Elias leaned over the sink, his face centimeters from the mirror. The warped glass made his face bigger and gave it a cartoonish quality that terrified him. There were a few blue speckles underneath his eye, the whisper of a bruise, but thankfully, it wasn’t enough to completely devastate his looks. He just appeared a little tired.
He pulled the cord to the light again and stood in darkness for a while, staring at his silhouette in the mirror.
“Tomorrow’s going to suck,” he muttered to himself.
5
Kai
The Day of the Concert
9:43 a.m.
Kai wished he could have gone to the airport to see Bobby off, but he was scheduled to work. He waited for a ride in the back seat of his parents’ car.
The driver-side door opened with ading, and Pop got in, clad in a Nike tracksuit and white tennis shoes. Mama emerged next, urging Pop, “Let’s go. We’re late,” as she slid into the passenger side. As they drove off, Kai watched the sunlight flicker against his skin. He puffed his cheeks in and out until he was basically beatboxing, adding a rhythm to the barrage of uninvited thoughts he’d had since Bobby told him he’d be leaving—your summer is going to suck, you’re going to be all alone, that stupid candle isn’t going to work. He increased his volume to drown out the negativity, but Mama finally got annoyed and told him to stop. He was quiet for the rest of the ride.
“Careful with that boy today,” Mama said as the car came to a stop in front of Moodie’s. “I hear he’s trouble.” The uncharacteristic softness of her expression touched Kai.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Kai replied, leaning forward to kiss her onthe cheek. He gave his dad a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before stepping out of the car.
“Call us if anything—” Pop added before Kai slammed the door shut.
Kai entered the shop and waved at his parents until they were out of sight, leaving him staring at his own reflection in the window—a child with clunky headphones around his neck, scarred knees, and one of his shoelaces untied.
Figuring he ought to at least try to tie hisdamn shoesbefore Moodie came in, he sat cross-legged on the floor behind the counter and gave it his best try. His clumsy fingers knotted and jumbled the laces with every attempt. He looped and pulled, threaded and twisted, but his knots were either too loose and fell out or were too tight to accommodate proper circulation. He kept trying, nearly turning his shoelaces into a fire starter with all the friction. By the end of this, he would probably have no fingerprints.
The bell above the door suddenly jingled, and a voice called out, “Uncle Mudiaga, you here? How you going to leave the store empty with the door unlocked like that, Mood?”
A shock of embarrassment struck Kai in the chest. Hurriedly, he smoothed down his shirt and tucked his still-untied laces into his shoe. He prepared to stand, but when he looked up, the owner of the voice was already staring down at him from the other side of the counter. He was brown-skinned like Kai, with a similar build, but he was probably half a foot shorter, with broader shoulders.
Did he see me?Kai panicked.
“Hey, hel—hi. Sorry.You’reMoodie’s nephew Eli?” Kai asked, as more of an observation than a question.
“What tipped you off?” Elias replied, his tone shaded in dry humor. “And it’s Elias.”
“Sorry,Elias.” Kai rubbed the back of his neck.
