Scene: Friday — The Park
The park was supposed to be her quiet place.
Hood up, sketchbook in hand, earbuds in. She always came here after school to watch her little brother on the swings. His laughter usually blended into the background with the other elementary kids. Calm. Predictable.
But today she kept noticing something else.
Him.
Kiran.
Across the field, the wind blowing directly her way so she always caught him in the corner of her vision. He was on the basketball court—dribbling smoothly, moving like the game didn't require thought. Sweat glistened on his forehead in the late afternoon sun. Focused, quiet, alone despite the other players.
She tried to ignore it.
Tried to ignore him.
But her eyes kept drifting back.
Why was he everywhere this week?
Before she could think more, her mom showed up early with tight lips and that "grown-ups need to talk" tone.
"We're going to the other park," she said. "Come on. Andrea, Michael, let's go."
The "other park" was the unspoken rule. When her parents had serious conversations, she and her siblings got relocated. No excuses. No protests.
So she went.
Her sister, Andrea, wandered off toward the sandbox. Her twin brother—also Michael—made a beeline for the basketball court the moment they arrived.
She tried to sit on a bench, but every bench was covered in dried dust and dirt. So she found a spot on the grass, away from the noise. She opened her notebook, trying to sketch out the tension she felt under her ribs.
But Michael's voice cut across the field like a fire alarm.
"HEY! SIS! Get over here!"
She clenched her jaw.
He always did this—drag her into games as if her presence would magically fix everything.
Michael jogged over, sweaty and annoyed.
"We're getting smoked," he said. "C'mon, help us out."
She shook her head. "I'm not—"
"And," he added loudly, "I heard you were dating Kiran!"
Her head snapped up.
"What?!"
Michael grinned like he'd detonated a bomb and pointed across the court.
"Ain't that the guy? Right over there!"
She turned.
And—of course—it was him.
Kiran. Headphones in. Dribbling lazily like he wasn't even playing seriously. He looked up just in time to see her standing there, irritation painted across her face.
He blinked, processing.
Then a slow, smug thought crossed his expression:
Oh. So my long-term plan worked out after all. Damn.
He caught the ball, turned, and considered his options with immediate mischief in his eyes.
Should I pass it to her? Or Tyrese first?
…Nah. That Michael kid wants to play.
He snapped the ball hard toward her twin brother, making Michael stumble as he caught it.
"Eight-three," Kiran said simply. "I win. New game."
He stepped off the court and walked toward the sidelines where Jalen was sitting with his backpack.
Kiran leaned down and whispered, "Aye, don't let Jamal find me, man. He gon' try and kill me."
Jalen groaned. "Bro, you caused this. All of it."
Kiran shrugged, wiping sweat from his forehead with the inside of his shirt.
"Business is business."