“What’s effing?” Calla asked, glancing up at them curiously.
“Nothing!” Iris said quickly. “Let’s go get ready for the fashion show! You love the fashion show, right? Let’s see what Auntie Violet brought for us this year.”
Lily and Violet followed behind Iris and Calla into the house.
“I’m not doing the fashion show,” Lily declared as they climbed the steps to Violet’s bedroom.
Violet turned to her sharply. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“Because you don’t want Nick to see you dressed like a runway model from the early aughts. The tackiness of this year’s theme is what makes it fun! He should be able to love you at your tackiest.”
“He doesn’t love me period. I don’t love him! I wish that y’all would drop this.”
“Sure.” Violet smiled sweetly. “But the fashion show is tradition. Are you going to let down your favorite sister?” She looked at Lily with puppy-dog eyes.
“I’m her favorite sister,” Iris said, opening Violet’s suitcase. Calla immediately grabbed a sparkly pink tank top covered in rhinestones. Iris scrunched up her nose. “Where do you even find these clothes?”
“Thrift stores are gold mines,” Violet answered. To Lily, she said, “Don’t worry. I’ll dress you in something sexy.”
Lily very nearly rolled her eyes and walked out of the room, but she saw the gleeful look on Calla’s face as she admired the pink top. It was true that Lily didn’t want to do the fashion show because she’d rather not embarrass herself in front of Nick. But Violet was right. It was tradition. And a good friend should love you even at your tackiest. Lily hoped that she and Nick were on their way to becoming good friends.
“Fine,” she said, relenting.
Violet and Iris cheered, and Calla joined in just because. Soon, their mom and aunts and other younger cousins joined them to get dressed in Violet’s chosen pieces.
Lily hoped Nick was faring well with Antoine.
12
Nick and Lily’s cousins were on their third game of three-on-three in the driveway. Nick was paired with Antoine and his younger brother, Jamil. They were playing against Lily’s twin cousins, Larry and Lamont, and their nineteen-year-old nephew, Demetrius.
Nick hadn’t seen Lily in over an hour. Or her sisters. Or her mom. Or any of her aunts, for that matter. They’d disappeared from the yard. He mentioned this aloud and Antoine told him that they were getting ready for the fashion show. Nick remembered Violet’s heavy suitcase, and of course he thought about the picture Lily had emailed him last year of Calla’s small foot in a high-heeled shoe. He wondered what Lily would wear. Since they’d parted ways earlier this afternoon, he’d thought of her constantly. Did she think he’d made a good impression with her sisters and parents? Was she happy that she’d brought him along today? It wasn’t his place to care about those things, but he did.
The truth was that he shouldn’t be at her parents’ barbecue in the first place. He was supposed to be helping Lily fall in love with someone else because she deserved to love and be loved by a good person, a better person. Not someone like him. But she’d invited him to come with her, and his longing to spend an entire day with her had outweighed his logic.
“Ayo, block him, Nick!” Antoine called out, as Larry shot a three-pointer right over Nick’s head.
“Shit, sorry,” Nick responded, smiling sheepishly. He was guilty, lost in thoughts about Lily.
He refocused his attention on the game. They’d already lost to the twins and Demetrius twice. But who could blame them? Larry and Lamont were both six four, and Demetrius played on his college basketball team. Nick was shirtless and sweating. He’d removed his button-up because it was one of his few nice shirts and he refused to get it dirty. The afternoons he spent with Henry in their building’s gym were the only reason he was able to keep up with Lily’s cousins.
Demetrius dribbled the ball and Nick guarded him, watching closely as Demetrius passed the ball from hand to hand. Never take your eyes off the ball. Albert’s voice popped into Nick’s head, unwarranted. Albert was the one who’d taught Nick how to play. Basketball was one of the few things Albert loved other than money. Sometimes when Albert was around, and in a good mood, he’d pull Nick away from his books and drag him to the park. There on the basketball court, Albert showed Nick the basics. He taught him tricks. He dribbled circles around Nick and looped the ball under his thigh as he jumped and dunked. In those moments, Nick thought his dad was a superstar. And he wondered what might have happened to his dad if he hadn’t landed wrongly on his ankle during a playoff game his senior year of high school. The injury had caused him to lose his scholarship to Duke, and he’d found himself stuck in Warren. Basketball had been Albert’s first get-rich scheme. Injury or no, he’d never lost sight of that goal, to the detriment of himself and everyone around him.