Page 26 of Riot

Calvin

I looked up and felt my whole body tighten before I could stop it.

Ramos walked in first, wearing the same shirt from yesterday and a look that said he was neither happy nor unhappy to be here. Just present. Miguel followed close behind him, hands in his pockets, expression set in that way that always made me want to lock every door in a half-mile radius.

Great. My least favorite nightmare has decided to stop by my place of employment.

Heat from the dryers seemed to get worse. My mouth had gone dry. I set the spray bottle down carefully because dropping it would look dramatic, and I refused to give Miguel the satisfaction.

Niles straightened. His sunglasses slid down his nose a little as he looked between them and me.

Ramos lifted a hand. “Hey.”

There was no point pretending I hadn’t seen them. “What’s up?”

He walked up to the counter, stopping a normal person’s distance away. Miguel did not. He drifted a little to the side, close enough that I caught the smell of cigarettes and whatever soap he’d used. It was warm outside. He should not have smelled that put together. Creepy people should at least smell villainous.

“Needed to find you,” Ramos said.

I folded my arms. Then I unfolded them because that looked defensive. Then I put my hands on the counter because, apparently, I had nowhere normal to store my body.

“At work,” I said. “Bold place to search.”

Ramos glanced around the laundromat. Mrs. Ortega was pretending not to watch while loading another dryer. Mrs. Hensley had gone still by the folding table, one hand pressed to a stack of pillowcases. Niles removed his sunglasses entirely now.

Ramos scratched his jaw. “Need a little cash.”

I blinked once. “Hello to you too.”

“I did say hey.”

“That wasn’t a greeting. That was throat clearing with eye contact.”

Miguel smiled slightly at that, which I hated. Ramos just looked tired.

“Mom’s not home,” Ramos said. “I’m hungry. We’ve got nothing there but mustard and old tortillas.”

“You ate like a locust yesterday.”

“I know. That’s why we’ve got nothing.”

I stared at him. Part of me wanted to tell him to get a job, get lost, get hit by a bus in a way that only bruised his ego. Another part remembered he’d been out for barely any time and was standing here asking instead of taking. That probably shouldn’t have impressed me, but life had dragged my standards through the dirt years ago.

But there was another part, a smaller, hidden part, like a knot in a muscle you can never quite work out. It was the part that remembered a brother who wasn’t yet defined by what he’d survive or what he made the rest of us survive. The brother who’d once offered to let me pick the channel, who shared the last spoonful of peanut butter with me, who never snitched even when I deserved it. I missed that version so much I could feel it in my teeth. The only thing more mortifying than how much I missed it was the pale hope it was still in there, somewhere, under the scab.

From beside the window, Niles slid from the table. He didn’t come closer. He just leaned one shoulder against the wall and watched.

Miguel, meanwhile, took up space like he owned the patent. He rested both arms on the counter between us, his posture loose, his smile almost lazy. He wore a muscle shirt, the tattoos on his forearms looking like they had stories they’d rather keep hidden. He was one of those guys who somehow smelled better at the end of a day than the beginning, and I hated that about him. He didn’t say anything right away, just watched me, waiting to see if I’d flinch first.

Ramos hung back, hands in his pockets, body angled toward the door as if he might bolt at any second.

Miguel finally spoke. “Figured maybe you could help out someone hungry.” His words were syrupy, polite, and just empty enough to make my skin crawl. If you were Mrs. Hensley folding pillowcases nearby, you’d hear it as harmless, maybe even sweet. But to me, every syllable came with a secondary meaning. The words didn’t quite cross the line into threat, but they settled on my skin like static.

I looked at Ramos only. “You brought your emotional support friend?”

Miguel laughed under his breath.

“Wasn’t the plan,” Ramos said, finally. “Miguel was just with me.”