"my humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together."

Chris Omar Vaughn

"Chris! Chris! Chris!" The crowd chanted my name after winning the game. First round of playoffs, check. My team advanced and I couldn't be happier that I was the picked MVP of the night with thirty points, fourteen rebounds, nine assists, four steals, and two blocks. Could be better, for sure, but I was on cloud nine.

"Good game, Chris," a girl from my math class complimented as she walked by.

"Ooo," my boys sounded, mocking her.

I was put back on my feet after they carried me to the lockerroom and met by my coach and Malcolm.

"Was Mom here?" I asked but was sure I knew the answer already.

"No," my so-called uncle answered. Of course not.

"I'm sure she'll see it on the news," he tried to say.

I shook his hand off my shoulder and tuned into what my coach had to say.

"Vaughn, good work, son," he thanked.

I let him hug me but not for long, he's old and smells like it.

"Thanks, Coach," I said, peeling off my jersey.

Some more girls wandered past, staring. I waved, flashing a feel-good smile.

"BOOOO!" The opposing team's supporters shouted.

"Haters," my teammate, Ky, waved them off.

I wasn't ready to pay them any mind until their best players David and Rodney exited the gym, riled up.

"Your foot was on the line, that's some bullshit, Vaughn, and you know it!" Rodney screamed, being pulled away by security.

Everyone gathered around to watch the scene he created.

I moved towards them, waiting for someone to swing.

My fists balled, I already didn't like Rodney, I just needed a reason to take my anger out on him. He was fouling me the whole game but I didn't cry about it once, that's basketball. He got out of hand sometimes but I let the score do the talking, ball don't lie.

His friend on the other hand- err, cousin- was more calm but his face read he was pissed. And of course he was, they lost, their high school basketball career was ended by me. I didn't feel guilty about it either. . .

"The refs cheated for ya white ass!" Rodney continued to yell.

I flapped my hands, gesturing that all he was doing was talking.

"Hey," Malcolm snapped. "Chill!"

I ignored him.

Ky stayed by my side. "Ball don't lie, pussy!"

"Fuck you say to me?!" Rodney exclaimed, rushing to Ky but they were pulled apart.

"He doesn't want it," I told Ky who calmed down a lot more easy than his opponent.

"Meet me in the parking lot, bitch!" Rodney called for Ky.

"Boys, in the locker room. Now," Coach demanded, pushing me inside.

After a team meeting and a brief celebration, Ky and I put on some sweats, slides, and packed our gym bags to leave.

"Alright, y'all," I said to my team.

"Night, bro," they said back.

We hung in the parking lot some like usual after games, chilling and figuring out what the next move was.

The cheerleaders told us about a party by the lake, I wasn't interested.

"Come on, Chris," Ky pried. "You never come out and party anymore."

"I do, just not after a game, I wanna relax, unwind," I said low, standing outside of my truck.

He sucked his teeth. "I know that mean you just tryna get ya balls tickled tonight," Ky joked, nudging me.

"Y'all coming?" Our friend, Dre, asked, hopping in another car.

"Nah," I answered.

"Next time," Ky said, dapping him up.

They pulled off, leaving Ky and I in the parking lot alone.

"Dude, you can go, I'll be alright alone," I let him know.

I can tell how bad he wanted to go, Ky's a party animal. Besides, he wasn't my shadow and I didn't need anyone's company. My night would consist of going back to Malcolm's, sleeping in his downstairs guest room for the night after an ice bath and a blunt or two.

"You sure?" He asked me, wide-eyed.

"For sure," I insisted. "Go."

He slapped my hand and then called the guys to circle back.

I shook my head, laughing at his crazy ass as he ran to the stop sign to meet Dre.

Once Ky got picked up, they sped off in the night.

A yawn told my ass it was time to go, no sense lingering around anymore.

I fished in my Nike bag for my keys, struggling to find them like always.

"Where ya little shadow at now, white boy?" I heard a raging voice question.

"Bitch ass," another voice snarled.

"Just like his daddy."

Rage.

The two figures walked quickly towards me and appeared under the light so I could finally make out that it was David and his cousin/teammate, Rodney.

I knew what they wanted - to fight. I had two options: get jumped or run away like a bitch. My mom didn't raise a bitch so I stayed and fought.

It was only two of them, what's the worst they could do to me?

"What's up?" David asked, squaring up with me.

I didn't even flinch. I just dropped my bag and waited for him to throw a punch.

Once he did, I swung, my fist connecting right to his nose.

Rodney jumped in, tackling me.

We were on the ground, him and I. David had backed off, crying about his nose but I wasn't worrying about that, I was trying to get his big ass cousin off of me.

He tried mounting me but I used some old wrestling moves from middle school and pinned him.

"David, help me, nigga!" He called out, trying to cover his face but I got his wrists under my knees and punched him in the face repeatedly.

All of a sudden, some type of string or wire went around my neck.

They're trying to kill me, I thought.

Fighting was dangerous in itself, too dangerous - I think- to fight over something petty. When someone wants to fight you, I always took that as they want to hurt you. So my father always said, "why give someone the opportunity to hurt you or a loved one? Defend yourself." That's what I knew to do.

I gasped for some seconds then managed to unwind myself and grab his ankles to bring him down.

David fell on his back on the curb and cried out.

He curled into a ball, holding his head like he hit it. He might've. Shit.

But I was seeing black, no thoughts other than how to finish this?

Malcolm told me that when fighting, you want to make sure that person never gets the chance to even think about fighting you again - teach them a lesson and leave them with a reminder.

When I backed off, seeing they were both down, groaning, I pulled my body back to the truck, unscathed.

"Come here!" One of them yelled. I was hit with something in the back, I don't know what, it felt like a belt buckle.

I dropped to my already aching knees, eyes closed tight.

"Yeah, get his ass, David," Rodney cheered, being lookout.

I found the strength to get up and swept David's ankles with my foot. His body dropped and I picked him up by the collar of his shirt and banged his head against my truck tire twice.

He screamed. I'll never forget that scream.

"Yo! What the fuck?!" Rodney hollered, shaking.

Some of his teeth were around my feet, bloody on the ground.

I didn't have time to think about what I did because Rodney grabbed me up.

I threw some punches at him, all of them landed so bad he didn't know what to do, just fell over.

He coughed up blood and was weak, meekly asking for mercy.

David on the other hand had more heart, more fight, he wouldn't give up. I just hoped it was worth it.

He reached for the contents of my bag that had spilled over.

I picked up the massage rolling stuck before he could and beat him with him, releasing most of my demons. It felt damn good, too. Well, in the moment.

Because once that moment passed, I realized he was unconscious, right leg horribly disfigured.

He only could groan, like his cousin. They lied across the ground, bloody and limp.

"Chris?! Chris?!" I heard Malcolm yell my name as I shakily inched backwards and dropped the weapon from my hands.

"What have you done, boy?!" He shook my shoulders.

"Shit, shit, shit," my godfather cursed, looking at the damage.

He hurriedly called 9-1-1 but not after telling me to get the hell away.

We went to court. I don't know why, but David and Rodney confessed that it was their fault entirely.
They couldn't bring themselves to make eye contact with me in the beginning, and they put on some type of saint act.
Malcolm and his lawyer told me not to say anything at all, other than I defended myself.

Even the parents of the two boys said it was water under the bridge and to let it be an example not to bully. Everyone was being so... strange about the whole ordeal, it made me uneasy.

For days I beat myself up, upset I lost control and broke someone's leg, punched out most to all of his teeth.

Malcolm came and told me I did the right thing, standing up for myself against two of them. He said that he would've done the same, but he stopped fighting when he got a gun and lots of money.

I asked him what he had to do with my case, he said he has the best of the best legal team, which I trusted.

"-Still, it seems like I got off easy. Someone could've died," I sulked.

"Hey, look at me, no one died and you did the right thing. Get that through your head. They could've killed YOU! So you only got a slap on the wrist, benched for one game, who cares?"

"Me!" I stood and yelled.

He pushed my shoulders to make me sit back down.

"I broke his leg in two places. A-and his teeth, I-"

"Would you rather it be you?"

"I rather it be no one!"

"Listen, boy, I need you. We need each other. Trust that I would do anything for you. So I paid them off, you're off the hook. If you go play some type of honest hero all of a sudden, say goodbye to that full ride," he referred to my scholarship.

I hung my head. "The way he screamed-"

"You'll forget about it," Malcolm said. "Now come on, I need to show you how to run some things in case something ever happens to me..."

***

I woke up drenched in sweat. That hadn't happened in a while, the nightmares.

It was three in the morning read my phone.

At the same time I went to text her, Morgan sent me a message that read:

333

I wiped my hand down my face and smiled at her name on my screen.

I replied:

???

It's an angel number. You don't know angel numbers?

No clue

Well I'm not telling you

Why are you up?

Can't sleep...

You must've been dreaming about me

Bye

I laughed and pulled myself out of the bed.

The floor was cold under my bare feet but I endured it all the way to my kitchen where I poured myself a glass of water.

***

"-Wait, you saw David? David David?" Jabari asked me in the gym.

We were shooting around, warming up before the five-on-five session early that morning.

"Yes, David David," I answered, annoyed.

"Saying it twice doesn't actually help you remember, y'know?" AJ taunted Jabari.

Jabari whipped the rock at AJ's gut, leaving him winded.

I laughed at them, finishing a layup.

"Damn, what he say?" Jabari continued.

I hunched my shoulders. "Uh, nothing really, just asked me to pay for his food."

"Oh, he broke? He on that shit, ain't he?"

"No, actually, he looked like he was doing good. Nice girl, some kids, teeth fake as hell, though."

"He got them big ass buckaroos?" Jabari clocked.

"Veneers?" I knew that's what he meant.

"I mean, shit, he got money now. I don't know how, but," Jabari trailed off.

I looked up at the sky box to see Malcolm having a cigar with the owner of the facility.

My head dropped, I had a bad headache.

"You good to play?" Adriel asked me.

"Nah, I think I'll sit the one out. I can do the scoreboard," I offered, walking over to the bleachers.

"Well, well, well," an irritating voice triggered me.

I looked up and saw Rodney. Instinctively, I stood, fighting off my throbbing head.

I said nothing but my fists clenched, it's like a natural automatic reaction to when I see this guy.

"Wassup?" Jabari greeted his old friend.

"Vaughn," Rodney addressed me.

I hardly looked his way.

"Let's get the game going," AJ spoke up as he was reffing the games today.

"Yeah," Jabari agreed, giving Rodney the ball first.

Right before jump ball, Rodney looked to me in the stands.

"Ho', ho', ho'," he whaled. "baby Johnny Depp, ain't playing?"

I slowly blinked, lacing my shoes as they talked shit.

"Nah, he's hurt," AJ tried defending me. I appreciated him but didn't need it.

I walked on the court after wiping off the bottom of my multicolored Nike 'cosmic unity' sneakers to make sure they were sticky.

"Chris, your head," Adriel reminded me in a whisper. "And your knee isn't even wrapped."

"It's fine," I said, shaking my arms and legs out.

TOOT! He blew his whistle for tip-off.

"AGH!" Rodney yelled, winning the ball first. He brought the ball down the court and came to me on the right.

He can't go left, I mentally noted, forcing him on that side.

"This my shit," he taunted me while holding the ball.

"Bro, pass the ball!" His teammate shouted, clapping and all.

Too late, I stole it and sprinted down the court, slamming the ball in.

"Two, zero," I announced, leaving the ball on the line for the other team to take out.

Rodney smacked his hands together angrily and yelled at his team to "get it together."

The game went on, super competitive.

24-40 my team. We were going good, the big guys even started shooting three's.

Rodney called a time out to scold his four as if he wasn't the worst one.

Back on the court, he brought the ball up and passed it only for me to intercept in the air.

Jabari ran with me so I dished it to him for the lay but he threw it up and I dunked again.

24-42 us.

Every witness in the gym went wild.

I limped off the pain of coming down awkwardly, biting my jersey between my teeth.

"You good?" Asked Jabari.

"I said you shouldn't play," Adriel commented.

"Shut the fuck up," I winced, walking down the court.

"FUCK!" Rodney cussed, ripping his penny jersey off in anger.

He was told to chill out but didn't.

"It's just a game, man," I spat.

"Just a game, my ass," he growled, lunging towards me.

He got in my face like "what you wanna do?"

I threw my arms up, seeing he wasn't about to do anything. I'm innocent. And retired.
Besides, I knew what my fists could do and I didn't wanna go back down that road over some fucking Sunday morning gym five v. five that didn't mean anything. We didn't even put money on it, it was for fun.

The entirety of the teams separated us but I waved him off. He's all talk and I wasn't in a dark enough headspace to allow myself to go there with him.

Fuck, my head hurt.

I continued walking off the pain until I saw the time.

"Where you going? You can't bail just 'cause he talked shit," Jabari nagged me.

"I gotta be somewhere," I said, packing up. "Let AJ play."

"Me?" Adriel asked, unsure. I bounce-passed the ball to him and he looked like he never seen one before. I have faith in him, though. If anything, he could just stand there and pass everyone else the ball, shit.

***

"Hey, stink," Quinn greeted me outside of Red Sage.

I laughed. "See, you get that from your aunt."

"Pick me up! Pick me up!" She squealed, jumping excitedly.

"Alright, alright," I gave in to the cute little monster.

"WEE!" She exclaimed, giggling.

"Shit," I hissed, being reminded of my bad knees and headache that was a twenty on a scale to ten.

I put her down in her pink dress and she spun herself around, just happy to be outside and playing.

The Porters walked out with some old people candy for Quinn.

"Oh, hello, Chris," Wilma waved.

"Hey there, Chris," her husband, Donald, followed.

"You have to chase me!" She bubbled, running along the freshly cut grass.

"What's up, Dale?" I talked to the landscaper as I walked along the sidewalk.

"Shit, you tell me," he replied, dapping me up.

Dad waved to me from the roof where he was doing ... whatever it is he was doing.

I didn't ask.

The smell of my mother's baking pulled me inside, I almost forgot what I came for.

"Chris, over here!" Callie called.

Almost.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance and doubled back so I could make way to her suite.

She had on cowgirl boots and a small white romper that looked like it belonged to Morgan. No, Quinn.

Her hair was out and curly. She had on lipstick and a red manicure.

"Hi, Callie," I spoke just to be polite.

She may be Morgan's sister but they are very different.
Callie's damn near insufferable. How thirsty she is completely suffocates the fact that she's actually a beautiful woman, just kind of fucked up.

"You're late," she said in this voice like she was trying to be cute.
If Callie wasn't Morgan's sister, my response would've been "yeah 'cause I didn't want to come."

There's not a single trick any girl can do at this point that I won't see coming. It's all the same, the lip bite, the batting of the lashes, vanilla scents, the cute little girl voice. It's tired.
That's why I like Morgan, she's intentional and organic and doesn't try hard. I never know her next move no matter how bad I try to read her or think I have her figured out.

"So what do you want me to do?" I asked her.

"Yeah, um," she stalled, shutting us inside.

When she locked the door, I asked, "Don't you wanna keep that open, Quinn's out there?"

"She'll be fine," the mother said quickly.

The room was dark, blinds drawn, but there was a candle lit.

I exhaled, waiting for Callie to come up with the reason I'm here.

"Oh, right," she said. "It's this damn clothes rack. I just got it from Amazon and I can't seem to put it together myself, could you help me?"

I looked at the average size box with the clothes rack enclosed. The picture on the cardboard looked pretty simple and it wasn't even opened so I knew she didn't even try the set it up, yet.

I opened the box and spread out it's contents. Like I said, it seemed straight forward.

"Can I get you anything?" She asked, leaning over my shoulder.

"Just some space," I chuckled.

She laughed, twirling the ends of her hair. "Oh. Uh, yeah, I'll just be over here if you need me."

*

"Hot in here," I commented, lifting the bottom of my shirt to use it to wipe the sweat from my forehand.

"I know," Callie whined, fanning herself. "Maybe you can help fix the AC next?"

"Pfft. Yeah, maybe," I murmured, finishing working on the last screw.

"Oh my gosh," Callie gasped at the sight of the finished product. "You're so good with your hands."

"So I've been told," I kept it light.

"Where's it going?" I then asked, looking around the room.

"Over here," she gestured, pointing to the empty space.

I picked up the black rack and walked it to where she designated.

"Oh," she gawked. "you're so big."

So I've been told, I thought.

I set it down and bent over, hands on my knees.

"Can I get that water now?" I asked Callie who was sensually rubbing an ice cube down her chest.

"Sure," she whispered, getting up right away.

I wasn't sure why she was single, Callie seemed like the type of woman any man would like to take advantage of. What? I didn't say I don't know why she isn't in a healthy relationship, just being in one at all. You'd think she could score anyone - nice face, decent body. Keeping the man, I'm sure, is the problem.

Upon returning, she put the glass to my lips which I removed and paced around the couch to distance our bodies.

I saw a picture of a little blonde girl by the tv.  She looked like Quinn but a bit older, and I could tell it wasn't Callie.

"This Morgan?" I asked.

Callie said, "Yeah, with her little gap. Nerd."

"No, it's cute," I said, not knowing it was out loud.

I finished my water and was ready to go but had to wait for the little "tip" Callie insisted on giving me.

As she dug through her purse, her phone rang.

"Hey, Kyle," she talked.

Oh, see, she has a man.

"-Where's Morgan? Why?"

Okay, it's natural her boyfriend would have a relationship with his girl's sister...

"I didn't tell you? Yeah, she has a man now: Malcolm. No, don't let that stop you from coming to visit, silly! Of course Morgan would love to see you, you guys dated for years," Callie went on.

My jaw clenched.

Dated? For years?

Never knew any of that information.

"Yeah, we're still in Colorado. Morgan's fine, yeah, she told me she's so happy with this new guy. I know, you know her: goes where the money is. Oh, but Kyle, you're her first love, I'm sure she'll hear you out."

"A-hem," I cleared my throat to rush her off the phone.

"Sorry, Kyle, I have to go. Take care. Yes, I'll tell her you asked for her. Bye bye," Callie ended the call.

That was uncomfortable.

"Sorry," Callie drawled out. "He's a talker. Here, it's not a lot but the least I could do. Unless... you want something else?"

"You're good, thanks," I rushed, brushing past her body to leave.

***

First Malcolm, now Kyle. It's not a competition but fuck, I feel some type of pressure.

Morgan and I aren't exclusive, we owe each other nothing, but I wish I knew about this Kyle kid sooner. It's making me itch.

She's a beautiful girl with a lot to offer, though, of course there's a line of men after her. I just don't know how to deal with that, never having been in this position. I'm usually on the other side of this coin. I don't like it.

It's bad enough I have to worry about my "uncle" moving in on her, now this ex-boyfriend trying to come back in life? No.

I can't kill two birds with one stone here, though. Or can I?

"Sup, Chris?" Teddy let me inside Malcolm's.

He gave me a brotherly hug, patting my back, and then led me to Malcolm's study.

Sage stood on Malcolm's right in his shadow, hand constantly on his hip.

"Chris, my boy," Malcolm exclaimed. "Come in, come in."

"Where's Morgan?" I asked him, wasting no time.

"Why?" He raised one brow.

"I need to tell you something."

"I'm listening," he responded, all ears.

"Her sister was just on the phone with a Kyle, Morgan's ex," I spilled.

"So?" Asked Malcolm, leaning back.

"So he's coming here to get her back. And Callie's positive Morgan will take him back, he's her first."

I hated everything I was saying and that I was even doing this but fuck Kyle, he doesn't deserve Morgan. Who could be dumb enough to let someone like her go?

Malcolm's face fell to a pained look, his eyes went dull.

"You're sure about this?" He asked me, cracking his knuckles.

I nodded once.

"Thank you for coming to me with this," he said. "I'll take care of it."

"I know you will," I said, pushing off the desk so I could make my exit.

Teddy watched me go, this questioning look on his dark face.

I gave him a reassuring glance and he eased up.

Maybe I did manage to figure out how to kill two birds with one stone.
When Kyle comes, Malcolm will "take care of him." I'll let Morgan know what Malcolm did and there's no way she'll stay with him. She might even go to the cops. No amount of money or smarts will get him off clean for murder, and I do know those are the lengths he'll go to to protect what's "his."
First degree murder is a life sentence here in Colorado.
No meddling ex, no dictating Malcolm. Win-win.

It's not that I want my uncle to go to prison for life, I know how hard that is. Hell, he probably won't make it. But he's not the best guy, he needs to pay. And when I want something, I get it, never letting anything be in the way - something I got from him.

"Oh, Chris," Malcolm found me in the den.

"Yeah?" I slid my phone in my pocket.

"I want to thank you for looking out for me. You've always had my best interest and you've never switched up. Loyalty, will take you a long way. That, and family. Family over everything, my boy. I used to tell you this everyday but I think at fourteen you got embarrassed: I love you," Malcolm expressed, hugging my body.

Well shit.