Between Friends
along, everything is just a mess.”
    He gave me a crooked smile. “Well, I can’t blame your mother.”
    I tossed a pillow at him. “I’m serious. And you never liked Linc, anyway.”
    He threw the pillow back. “’Cause he’s an asshole.”
    I chuckled to myself because he had no idea how true that statement was.
    â€œAnd now India’s talking about taking a job in California.”
    He looked up at me wide-eyed. “Are you serious?”
    Heart heavy, I nodded. “I don’t want her to go, but I know that’s being selfish.”
    â€œHave you told her you want her to stay?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy?”
    He kept his eyes on me, giving me his full attention.
    â€œBecause I know India. She’d end up staying, just because I asked her to, and enrolling in some clown college just to get another degree.”
    He laughed.
    His laughter filled in every hole that filled my spirit at that point. It was what I needed and didn’t even realize it.
    â€œAnd this job may be just what she needs,” I reasoned.
    He stretched and I couldn’t help but watch as the muscles in his arms flexed against his black DEA tee.
    â€œMan, I’m tired. I can’t wait to get back home. Atlanta is taking it out of me,” he said.
    I smiled a little. “Wow, you hate it that much?”
    â€œThis place is heavy. Nothing here for me.”
    â€œDon’t say that. Your family is here.”
    He looked at me. “Yeah, that’s true. But I like what I got going on over there.”
    â€œI can’t believe it’s been almost six years since you left,” I said.
    â€œYeah, time is flying.” He smiled. “You gettin’ old.”
    We sat there for a second, stillness settling between us. In the back of my mind I always wondered if Linc proposing had anything to do with him leaving the way he did. His move was so sudden—almost out of nowhere—but I never brought it up and I knew he wasn’t going to do it either. Even when he had come home for his father’s funeral he was different, he was a shell of the person he used to be. He kept telling everyone how much he loved New Orleans but there was something in his eyes that only I could see that let me know that was the farthest thing from the truth.
    â€œI heard about what happened with you and your ex,” I finally said, dropping my eyes and picking at the tag on the pillow I was holding.
    He leaned back. “And what would that be?”
    I looked up into his eyes. “Camille’s miscarriage.”
    He sat forward and dropped his head. “Wow. Hundreds of miles away and I still can’t have my life to myself.”
    â€œYeah, Trinity called me after it happened.”
    â€œTrinity called and told you?” his tone was heavy with disbelief.
    â€œDon’t be like that, Trip. She was just worried about you.”
    â€œConsidering the example I had for a father, fatherhood definitely ain’t something that I’m rushing toward anyway, you feel me?” He looked toward the mantel, which held pictures of him and Trinity at various stages. Some included his mother, but I noticed there were no pictures of his father.
    Anywhere.
    I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Yeah, I remember you always saying that you didn’t want kids, so that call actually surprised me.”
    â€œIt wasn’t something we planned, trust me,” he said. He stood up and took a deep breath. “They say that you learn how to be a father from your father.”
    I stood up and walked toward him. “You know you’re not him, right?”
    â€œI know.”
    We stood there for a second, not saying anything. In that moment we were little kids again. But this wasn’t something that a pack of Now and Laters and an episode of Transformers could fix.
    He stepped closer, so close that I could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. His

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