Page 93 of Standing In The Sun

What was this level of love-- of investment?

It wasn’t a ring or a car or a trip. It wasn’t flexing. It was him planting roots for her - gifting her stability, choosing her dream before she could even fully speak it out loud.

“Lunar…” her voice cracked.

He stepped to her, grabbing her into his arms. Her heart started thudding in her chest.

“Why would you…why would you do that for me?” She was so confused that she asked the same question again. Ahvi needed some clarity.

He leaned forward, laughing at her. “Because I believe in you, because your food good as hell and I seen the people looking for you on social media—they fuck with it just as much as I do. Because you light up when you talk about feeding people and I wanted to give you something that wouldn’t get snatched away the second it started feeling real.”

She swallowed hard, the burn behind her eyes threatening to spill over.

“And because,” he added, “I love you. And I’m trying to build with you, not just fuck with you.”

Everyone stayed silent, like even the water didn’t want to interrupt.

Ahvi looked down at her hands, water beading on her skin, mind spinning.

She didn’t cry…not yet.

Her body was still caught somewhere between awe and suspicion, between wanting to throw her arms around him and wanting to askwhat the catch was.

Because people didn’t just do shit like this for her…not without strings…not without it turning into a weapon later.

“I need to…I need a minute,” she mumbled, voice raw. She stood up from the water, her body trembling, not from the cold but from being overwhelmed.

And as she walked away, everyone watched her go. Especially Lunar, whose heart beat hard against his ribs with the weight of doing too much or maybe not enough. He wasn’t sure.

She looked back at him, tears burning the corners of her eyes. Before she could speak, the sliding glass door flew open.

“Butta!” a deep voice cracked.

Ahvi turned around fast.

Her sister burst out of the house barefoot. Her face was red and wet with tears. Monday was right behind her, his voice frantic. “Butta, come here.” His long legs trekked behind her long and fast.

“Leave me alone!” Butta snapped, hugging herself. She looked like a little girl again in that oversized t-shirt, shoulders shaking.

Ahvi’s stomach dropped. “Butta?”

“I’m pregnant,” she said. Just like that. No breath. No preface. “I’m fucking pregnant.”

Silence dropped like a bomb.

“What?” Ahvi blinked.

“I’m pregnant,” Butta repeated, crying harder now. “And I’m leaving. I need to go home and to think. I’m not doing this with him right now. He won’t shut the fuck up about keeping it and playing house and acting like everything’s gonna be okay. But I don’t want this—I want my life!” she sobbed.

Monday stepped forward, face red with frustration. “We did this together. I’m not letting you just disappear and act like I’m not in this too.”

Monday had been smitten with Butta from the moment he laid eyes on her. Her pretty light brown skin, round face, and long legs had his eyes bulging out of his head. What started off as just talking about basketball and school morphed into something no one really saw coming, at least not Ahvi.

“You’re eighteen,” Ahvi said slowly, trying to make sense of it. “And she’s seventeen.”

“Barely,” Monday snapped. “She turns eighteen in six months.”

“Shut up!” Butta shouted. “Stop trying to make it sound okay!”

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