Page 36 of Golden Rule

“Any of this look familiar?”

Granted, there are a few more vacant lots and abandoned houses, but this city could get leveled to the ground, and I’d still know my way around with my eyes closed.

He takes a quick look when I point to a small car wash on the left. “That was hunter’s first job,” I say with a smile. “He loved it because the tips were good, but all it took was one winter to convince him to quit.”

A memory flutters in, and I see it playing out before my eyes like a movie. Hunter was so proud bringing home cash every day—tips from customers, proof of a job well done. Then, I remember the soul-crushing look that followed. When my greedy mother would pluck it from his fist, turning up her nose as she asked,‘Is this it?’I’ve never asked my brother what turned him toward the lifestyle he chose—a lifestyle that eventually landed him behind bars—but I’m willing to bet it has roots in those moments. Those feelings of not being enough, or feelings of being worthless because our mother equated his value to how much money he brought into the family.

My eyes slam shut for a second when what started as a pleasant memory turns sour. Thoughts of my mother tend to have that effect.

“That playground right there? That’s where I had my first kiss,” I say with a grin, despite the glare it earns me from West.

“I swear to God, Blue, if you say your first kiss was Ricky-fucking-Ruiz, family or not, I’m?—”

“Stop,” I cut in. “First of all, we both know you and Ricky are in a solid, deeply committed bromance, so… save it. And second, it wasn’t him. His name was Peter, and we were ten. It was… sweet.”

West glances my way again, and my smile turns into laughter because I swear I can hear his thoughts.

“Sweet? Sounds like you still think about this dipshit.”

Another loud laugh bursts from my lips, hearing him pretend he’s actually annoyed.

“All the time,” I play along. “As a matter of fact, I still have the ring pop from when he proposed a week later. I turned him down, but I told him to look me up in the future. You know, in case I’m not happy.”

Instead of keeping his eyes on the road, West stares at me now, and the longer he holds that look on his face, the louder I laugh.

“Well, good thing you’re fucking happy.”

“Mmm…” I scrunch up my face, implying he shouldn’t be so quick to assume.

“Damn.” He finally breaks character to laugh. “Know what? Fuck this. Give me this guy’s last name. I’m showing up on his front porch to beat his ass. And he has you to thank.”

“Wait, you sure you want to do that? For all we know, he’s bigger than you, andhewon’t be the one getting his ass beat.”

At first, West is silent, smirking as he stares at the road. “No way you just said that.”

I can hardly breathe, holding my stomach because it’s in knots now.

“For the record, there’s not a chance in fucking hell I’d lose,” he promises, and the air of cockiness in his tone makes my heart race.

Always has.

Always will.

“Maybe, but a first kiss is pretty hard to compete with, you know.”

He slams on the brakes when we get to the stop sign, and a breath hitches in my throat when he lets go of my hand to gripmy chin instead. With one rough motion, he pulls me closer, bringing my lips to his. The heat of his mouth covers mine the next second, and as my eyes fall closed, a kiss sets me on fire from the inside out.

He backs off, and his green stare burns a hole into me. “As long as I’m your lasteverything, who gives a shit who any of your firsts were.”

There goes that cocky tone again, and I don’t hate the way those words sound rolling off his tongue. Because we both know he’ll get his wish.

“Last everything,” I promise, then plant another kiss on him before he eases onto the gas.

On our right, the outline of a building comes into view. It’s set back on a deep, overgrown lot. The dark windows seem sinister from the street, like a hollowed-out corpse where a soulusedto dwell. This place was once a central hub of the neighborhood—a recreational center for local kids. It closed when I was fourteen or fifteen due to funding issues, but before that, I spent many afternoons here when school let out. Usually, I popped in to play basketball and keep myself sharp during the offseason, but other times, I’d get help studying for big exams. My parents weren’t around much, so sometimes the staff here were all I had. As was the case for many of the other kids, too.

It's memories like this that fuel my vision, reminding me why vulnerable communities like this one need these facilities.

Because the phrase‘it takes a village’isn’t just a phrase.

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