Page 9 of Sunday

“Nigga, ya ass ’bout to get dominated in a game of bones,” Chaz declared.

“Ain’t no bones tonight, Chaz,” I replied.

“The hell you mean?”

“It’s ladies’ night this time, remember? Last month, we chose. They didn’t choose dominoes,” I explained.

“Shit.”

“Nigga, if your ass learned how to play games besides dominoes, you wouldn’t have shit to worry about,” Shawn remarked and took his place on the couch. Chaz sat on the other end, and I took my spot in my recliner.

I immediately turned on the TV and set us up to play a video game while we waited for the girls. They always had to have a half-hour gossip session before they settled down to play us. The time rushed by, and our NBA 2K25 game ended in shit-talking with Chaz in his feelings because he hadn’t won a single game.

“Nigga, don’t start that shit.” Chaz sucked his teeth and shook his head.

“All I’m saying is Lebron is the best,” Shawn declared and threw his hands in the air.

“That’s some weak ass shit. How you gon’ say that?” Chaz argued.

“That nigga LeBron came straight out of high school into the league. He was bigger, stronger, and faster than MJ or Kobe. That nigga led a team to the finals at twenty-two years old. You gotta admit that he was the most versatile. He could score a rebound pass and defend. He led three different franchises to a championship—the Heat twice and the Cavs and Lakers once each. The man had twenty-plus years of superstar play, all-time leading scorer, and he went to eight straight finals. Now top that shit.”

Chaz, Charles Castle, and I grew up together, and he was like the brother I’d never had. We met in third grade and went around telling everyone we were brothers when we were little kids. During our high school years, we told the girls we were cousins. At some point in college, we outgrew that shit.

Shawn Holloway was my right-hand at JD Peale Construction Group, where I was a general contractor.

“Kobe won two championships without a top seventy-five teammate. That mamba mentality is global because of him. He never was afraid of the big moments. That nigga stepped up and showed out. He had eighty-one points in one game,” Chaz argued.

“Aye, Cedar. Tell this nigga what time it is,” Shawn remarked, pulling me into their argument.

“I’m always down for both of them, and I ain’t taking shit away. But y’all looking all over MJ. Big homie is the man, and ain’t nobody did it like him, since him. That nigga is the goat, and ain’t no contenders. He has six rings, undefeated in finals, and he was the MVP five times. He won MVP and Defensive Player of the Year in the same season. He had two three-peats and dominated the league for a decade. Nobody wasn’t winning anything when he was in his prime, once he got his Robin alongside him. Then look at what he did for the culture,” I added, pointing at their feet and mine. “Everybody wearing J’s because of that nigga, including y’all.”

“I stand on Kobe ten toes down. Rest in peace, big guy,” Chaz stated and thumped his fist against his chest before holding it up in the air.

“Will y’all get out your feelings about a bunch of niggas you don’t even know and come get some of this ass whupping we got for you,” Janae called out.

I chuckled and stood. “Come on.”

While we were gathered in our living room, playing video games, the girls had moved from the kitchen to the third floor, where our entertainment space was. I jogged up the steps with the fellows right on our tracks.

“Oh, we chilling out here tonight?” Chaz asked as we walked through the entertainment space and headed right out onto the roof.

“Yeah, it’s a chill evening,” Sunday replied and hit the play button on her phone.

Kem flowed from the speakers she had set up, and we sat down to play games.

We played several card games, with everyone winning at least once, except for Chaz, who everyone teased.

“Let me hit that,” Janae called out and wiggled her fingers for me to pass the blunt I’d been smoking.

I handed it to her, and she took a hit as Shawn remarked, “As fine as your ass is, I couldn’t fuck with you, Janae.”

“Excuse me? Who said anything about wanting to get with you, Shawn?”

“I’m just saying. You’re a beautiful girl, sweet, fine, and funny as hell. I’d give you the moon, but that’s one thing I wouldn’t give you. I ain’t sharing my weed with nobody.”

“Stingy ass,” Celine chimed in.

Janae tried to pass the blunt to Sunday, but she frowned and shook her head.

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