“You’re just mad because you got your hiney beat.” She tugs on my arm toward a game where you throw balls at a clown. We’ve been here pretty much all day, and I’m ready to go to my condo so I can have a drink and catch up on some work I missed from last week.
 
 “Tuxedo, are you okay?” She slides the power point card through the holder, then tucks it in her pocket. The clowns pop up on the shelves and she grabs a ball, throws it, and misses a clown.
 
 “Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck.
 
 “We can go after this game.”
 
 “No. I’m fine.” I grab a white ball and toss it at the clown.
 
 “Are you ashamed of me?” she asks out of the blue. Sadness colors her face. The game is over, and she grabs her tickets and stuffs them in a large empty cup from the table. “Because Momma said that you are, and that’s why you won’t take me to meet Alana.”
 
 Why the fuck did Rylee tell her shit like that? For the last few weeks, Rylee has been like this. Putting shit in Cora’s head and asking for more money from me. She’s been acting weird since Ellis’s insurance money ran out. My anger is climbing up my spine, and I ball my fists but keep them glued to my side.
 
 “I tell you what. I’ll pick you up on Labor Day, and you’ll be able to meet Alana then. Okay?”
 
 “You promise?” Cora asks, her eyes meeting mine.
 
 “Yeah.”
 
 We head to the little store where you can cash in tickets for a prize. The line is so long it reaches the door.
 
 Cora looks like a ballerina and an emo kid morphed into one. Her black short-sleeve shirt hugs her tiny frame and she’s wearing black leggings and a pink tutu with matching Converse complete her outfit. I bought those shoes for her last week.
 
 Cora bites her glittery index nail like Alana does when she’s nervous. She reminds me so much of Alana when she was her age. I can’t believe I missed twelve years of her life.
 
 “Are you excited about going to the seventh grade?”
 
 “I am, but my boyfriend won’t be there. He was so mad I’m leaving, but I told him that we can Snapchat each other.”
 
 “You’re not supposed to have a boyfriend.”
 
 We move as the line moves.
 
 “Momma knows.” She shrugs.
 
 Yeah, like that’s going to stop me from putting my foot down.
 
 “Your mom and I will have a talk real soon. What’s his name?”
 
 “Liam. He’s super sweet. He bought me a heart necklace, and we’re supposed to go on a supervised date. Momma is so uptight about it. We want to be alone, you know? What are we going to do alone, anyway?”
 
 I know what’s on his mind at that age. When I was twelve, I was going through puberty. I discovered that my right hand can make me come in a matter of seconds. I just didn’t understand what the white stuff coming from the tip of my dick was.
 
 “Has he kissed you yet?”
 
 I really didn’t want to know, but I wonder if she is having sex. I’ve heard some kids start as early as ten, but she hasn’t started her period yet—well, at least, she hasn’t told me. Has Rylee had the talk about the birds and bees?
 
 “Oh, no, that’s third base.”
 
 “Third base?”
 
 “Yeah, like the baseball field, crazy.”
 
 “What’s first base and second base?”
 
 “First base is holding hands, and second base is hugging and we hug a lot.”
 
 “We’ll just keep it at first base. Okay, kiddo?”