Seven Days in June(61)

The embrace felt monumental, like they were melding together all the people they’d ever been over the years. Closing the loop. Eva nuzzled her face against Shane’s throat, lips skimming just under his jaw.

“Missing you never ends,” she said on an exhale.

But before he had a chance to say the same thing back to her, she slipped out from under him. And was gone.

Shane understood why she’d left. But it had crushed him. He’d gotten her back, only to lose her again.

Shane had always felt tortured by his memory of that week. He saw it all, so clearly. Every detail, in vivid technicolor. No drink could make him forget. But what he hadn’t banked on was the seemingly insignificant but monumentally important details he’d forgotten about Eva coming back to him.

Like when Spotify plays a song you haven’t heard since childhood, and it reminds you who you are. Like “Oh yeah, I’m a person who knows all the words to Will Smith’s ‘Wild Wild West.’”

When Eva left yesterday, Shane had been resigned to leaving her alone. It hurt like hell, but he deserved it. So he kept himself busy for the rest of the day. He went for a six-mile run, chilled, didn’t drink, ate something, didn’t drink, tried to write, didn’t drink, and then slept. But then Eva sent that text. And somehow, he’d found himself sitting on her stoop, waiting for her to open the door.

His phone buzzed, and he yanked it out of his jeans so fast, his pocket went inside out.

It was Ty.

“WYD,” said the teen.

“It remains to be seen,” said Shane, peering up into Eva’s window.

Shane had talked to Ty yesterday. And two days before that. He committed to twice-weekly check-ins with all his mentees. Sometimes, just hearing the voice of someone who believed in you could turn a shit day into something a bit brighter.

“Ty, why aren’t you in school?”

“It’s the second-to-last day of the year,” he said, offering no further explanation.

“How’s your girl?”

“Good.”

And then Shane launched into the rapid-fire questions he asked all his kids.

“You turning in completed homework?”

“Yeah.”

“You engaging in any illegal or nefarious activity?”

“What ‘nefarious’ means.”

“Criminal.”

Ty paused, thinking. “Nah?”

“You fighting?”

“Not since you was here.”

“You staying hydrated? Sleeping eight hours?”

“Sleeping be mad hard sometimes. My brain don’t turn off. But a nigga trying. My mantra helps.”

“Proud of you, my dude.”

Shane could feel Ty’s smile, thousands of miles away.

“Mr. Hall? Can I…Could you lemme hold two hundred?”

“Two hundred US dollars? What for?”

“My sister’s nigga rents out studio time or whatever, and I thought…I just been trying to get on this rap shit for a minute. Get on SoundCloud, get a deal.”

Shane burst out laughing. When Ty didn’t join him, he shut up, quick.

“Oh. Okay, but since when are you an emcee? You’ve never mentioned rap.”

“My shit’s flames.”

“Interesting. Ty, what’s your rap name?”

“Undecided.”

“Undecided is your name?”

“Nah, my name’s undecided.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” started Shane, with caution. “But the fact that you don’t even have a rap name makes me question your sincerity. Every Black male invents a fake rap name by third grade.”

The teen was silent.

“Your sister introduced you to this dude? Princess?”

“Yeah.”

“Princess lives in a hollowed-out Chrysler parked inside of a condemned Tastee Freez. Does it check out to you that she’d date a dude with a legit studio rental space? Or is it more probable that they’re hustling you?”

Cornered, Ty let out an exasperated sigh.

“I gotta get out of here,” begged Ty. “I lied. I haven’t eaten in two days. Niggas think I eat, ’cause I’m big-boneded, but I don’t. Princess and Mom take all my money. Maybe rap will get me out. This dude knows managers and producers and what have you.”

“Ty, I’m not giving you money for this. I don’t trust it. I gotta go, but we’ll talk about it later.”

“I thought you was a real one,” Ty said, and his voice was barely audible. He sounded destroyed. “Peace.”

The phone clicked, and Shane slumped against the front door. He fucking knew Ty wouldn’t be able to stay on the straight and narrow. Maybe Shane was too hard on him. Maybe he should send him money. Besieged by conflicting emotions, he took a massive chug out of his water bottle just as a tall redhead strolled by with a full-grown toddler strapped to her chest and did a double take.

“My God. You’re Ta-Nehisi Coates!”

“Nah. But he’d appreciate that you pronounced his name right,” he said, downing the last of his water. “I learned the hard way.”

And then finally, finally, he heard the buzz. Before Shane could pick an emotion to focus on, he flew through the heavy mahogany door.