The following week dragged by slower than Kareem cared for. Between long hours at the shop, and a few random run-ins with some of his cousins, he barely had time to think about anything other than fixing cars. But every time he got a minute to breathe, his mind would wander back to Santi.
It wasn't even the constant teasing or the fact that Santi called him "Papi" like it didn't annoy the hell out of him. It was something else. The way Santi could just... make him feel something without even trying.
It pissed Kareem off.
So when his phone buzzed one afternoon while he was tightening a bolt under the hood of a car, he nearly ignored it. But then he saw the name.
Santi.
Kareem wiped his hands on his jeans and swiped the screen open.
"You free later, Papi?"
Kareem scoffed, muttering to himself, "This nigga think he slick."
Still, he couldn't stop himself from typing out a response.
"Why?"
"Was thinkin' we could kick it again. You seem to like me more than you tryin' to admit."
Kareem stared at the message for a while, the words getting under his skin more than they should've. He knew Santi wasn't wrong. And that only made him more annoyed.
"I ain't got time for this shit right now."
He didn't expect a reply. He was wrong.
"Make time. I'll be at the usual spot."
Kareem couldn't explain it, but something about the message felt different. Santi wasn't just being his usual teasing self; there was something genuine in it.
For a long moment, Kareem stood by the car, staring at the message as if it held all the answers.
He didn't have to go. He didn't have to deal with Santi and whatever this was. But something told him he'd regret it if he didn't.
So, against his better judgment, Kareem wiped his hands on a rag and grabbed his keys, heading out the shop door.
When he pulled up to Santi's apartment, he wasn't surprised to see the door already cracked open, the familiar smell of weed wafting out. He took a deep breath, stepped out of his car, and made his way inside.
Santi was lounging on the couch, headphones in, music blasting as he scrolled through his phone. The moment Kareem stepped in, though, Santi's head snapped up.
"Yo, you actually came through," Santi said, his voice warm but with that hint of surprise.
"Quit actin' like I don't have shit to do," Kareem shot back, though there was no real venom in his words.
"Yeah, aight. What's up with you, though? You look like you're in your head again," Santi asked, sitting up and looking at him more closely.
Kareem shrugged, leaning against the wall. He wasn't about to get into all that, not with Santi, not right now.
"I'm good," Kareem said, though it didn't sound convincing even to him.
Santi didn't press. He just patted the couch next to him, a subtle invitation.
Kareem hesitated for a moment, but eventually made his way over and dropped down beside him. The air between them shifted, almost like it was thickening with unspoken words.
"So, what you wanna do?" Kareem asked, his arms crossed in that usual defensive posture.
"Chill, listen to music. I thought we could... talk, too," Santi said.
"Talk about what?" Kareem couldn't help the skeptical edge in his voice.
Santi raised an eyebrow. "I dunno, man. What's goin' on with you? For real."
The question caught Kareem off guard, and he felt a knot form in his stomach. Santi was persistent, always poking around in places Kareem didn't want to go. It made him uncomfortable. And when Kareem was uncomfortable, he got defensive.
But this time, something was different. Santi's eyes weren't mocking, like they usually were when he was playing around. They were... softer. More genuine.
Kareem turned his gaze to the floor, staring at his worn-out sneakers. He didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't used to people giving a damn about what was going on inside his head.
"I'm just tryin' to get through the day," he said finally, his voice a little quieter than usual.
Santi leaned back into the couch, nodding like he understood more than he'd expected. The silence hung in the air between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
Kareem looked at him out of the corner of his eye, surprised at how easy it felt just to sit there-not talking, not fighting, just being.
"You know, I thought you were gonna be a pain in my ass," Santi said, breaking the silence with a smirk.
Kareem couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, despite his better judgment. "I am a pain in your ass."
Santi laughed, leaning his head back. "Yeah, but it's a good kind of pain."
That sent a strange flutter through Kareem's chest. He'd heard a million cheesy lines before, but the way Santi said it didn't sound fake. It sounded real.
Before Kareem could say anything, Santi leaned over and snatched the blunt off the table, lighting it with a quick flick. He passed it to Kareem without a word.
Kareem took it from him, the simple gesture feeling less like an exchange and more like something that meant more-even though he couldn't put a name to what that "more" was.
Santi was the kind of guy that could change the temperature of a room without even trying. And as much as Kareem hated to admit it, he was starting to feel the heat.