The Game

𝟒

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒓 - 𝑪𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 

I checked my outfit once more in the mirror and smiled. Today was strictly chill: a fitted slate-blue top, wide-leg drawstring pants in the same shade, and clean white sneakers. I kept my jewelry simple — small gold studs and a thin gold necklace — and slid my black JanSport over one shoulder. My over-ear headphones rested around my neck, and I grabbed my white water bottle on the way out.

Shai and Kyng beat me to the hallway, nails tapping the wood like a drumline.

"Good morning, trouble," I said, rubbing their heads.

Khari was already by the stairs in a shirt and tie, case notes in hand. "You see how they act like I'm not the favorite?"

"They love whoever got hands free," I laughed, passing him a dog. "Morning, counselor."

"Morning, sis." He kissed my temple and set the dog down. "I'm headed out — motions to file."

"Go win," I said. He clacked out through the front door smelling like cedar and court dates.

In the kitchen Daddy was at the stove, humming to the radio and being dramatic on purpose.

"I know you see me standing here," he said without looking up.

"I was just about to say good morning." I stretched up to kiss his cheek. "Good morning, Daddy."

"That's what I thought." He kissed the top of my head and tried to hand me a plate.

"I'll eat on the way," I said, already backing out with a granola bar.

The drive to Crestwood Academy was muscle memory. I swung through McDonald's, grabbed two hash browns and a latte, and slid into the student lot before the bell. I tucked the food under my arm, shouldered my JanSport, and jogged up the steps.

First stop was the staff room. I needed to clear yesterday up before it turned into a story about me flaking.

"Good morning, Mrs. Álvarez," I said.

She looked up from a stack of quizzes, eyes bright behind her glasses. "Aliya! How did tutoring go?"

"That's what I came to talk about," I said, heartbeat picking up. "He didn't show. Whoever he is."

Her smile wilted. "I'm positive I reminded him. He told me he'd go straight after practice."

"I waited almost two hours," I said, not trying to sound mad and failing a little.

"I'm really sorry." She pressed her palm to her chest. "I was sure he'd make it."

"Who is he, Miss?" I asked, bracing.

"Mr. Anderson," she said gently. "Christian Anderson."

My eyes went wide before I could fix my face. I knew it — and now I had to act normal about it.

"So what happens now?" I asked, trying to sound casual while my stomach went light.

"Would you give it another try on Monday? I'll confirm the exact time with him myself — no mix-ups."

"Alright," I said, pretending I had to be convinced. "One last try."

"Thank you, Aliya. That helps more than you know."

I left the staff room and immediately lost a hash brown to Ja'Colby.

"Well, good morning to you too," I told him, deadpan.

"Morning, Liya," he said around a bite.

"Morning, girly," Neilah said, plucking my latte like it belonged to her. "You sharing?"