Page 8 of Juliet's Echo
That was the nice way of saying her bratty ass needed to learn how to make friends, share, and not run shit everywhere she went.
“Yeah, Ju, as much as I want you with me every day, you need to be around kids your age more. Don’t you want to get a best friend?”
“I already have one—you, Choo-Choo,” she signed.
That shit melted a nigga’s heart, and I almost folded right there and told her she never had to go to school. But I stood firm in my decision against the one person who could make my 6’5, 245-pound ass put on a tutu and host the world’s biggest tea party… well, almost.
“Aight, look,” I said, straightening up. “I’ll make a deal with you. For every week you complete school, come Saturday, I’ll buy you whatever you want.”
Her eyes lit up instantly. “No limits?” she signed, slow and suspicious.
“No limits,” I confirmed.
She tilted her head, studying me like I was the real fool in the room. Then—
“Sucka ass nigga,” she said, laughing, her voice just as clear and pretty as ever.
I barked out laughing, scooping her up and attacking her sides with my free hand. She squealed, laughing so hard she damn near slipped out my grip, her little body going weak against me.
“Oh, so you just gonna play me like that? I should take it back,” I said out loud, unable to sign while holding her heavy ass. I set her down on a clear space on the kitchen island. “Juliet Simone Everette, how could you do me like that?” I asked, fighting a grin.
“A wise man once said, you play stupid games and you win nothing. Losing ass nigga,” she signed and said at the same time, her little evil ass beaming with pride.
One thing I always taught Juliet was that she had an advantage over millions of people in this world—she had two voices. And no matter how they showed up, through her mouth or her hands,nobody had the right to take either away. So, she always used both, as if she were making sure you heard her twice.
A smalltaplanded on her head from a stack of mail, and we both looked up.
My father stood there, holding the envelopes like he’d been watching the whole exchange for a minute. Axel Everette—five years later and another mouth to feed—still looked like money, power, and discipline wrapped into one. Tall, fit, fly, smooth… like age never touched him.
“Don’t say losing ass, Ju-Ju,” he said, dead serious for half a second. “Say losingheadass.”
Juliet gasped like he had just upgraded her vocabulary, and I shook my head, laughing as he leaned in and kissed the top of her head, then mine.
“How about we don’t say ‘ass’ at all?” my mother cut in, walking into the kitchen like she owned every square inch of it—because she did. Mylo and Zion trailed in behind her, already arguing about something under their breath.
She stepped right up to Juliet, bending down and pointing to each cheek, one at a time, silently requesting her kisses. Juliet obliged, quick pecks and a bright smile following.
“You ready for today, mommy’s favorite girl?” she signed, her expression soft but proud.
“Yes!” baby girl shouted. She was a thug around the men, but when my mother came around, she was a princess.
“Not with those wack-ass shoelaces tied like that,” Mylo signed, playfully teasing her.
He stepped in front of Juliet, fist balled, then crossed both hands in front of her. “Pick one,” his body language said, eyes already plotting.
Juliet lit up, curiosity taking over. She tapped his left hand without hesitation.
Mylo slowly opened it.
Empty.
Her face dropped instantly, like someone had pulled the light right out of her. And just like that, the whole kitchen shifted. Every set of eyes landed on Mylo—sharp, warning, ready. If one tear dared to fall from her eyes, Mylo and this kitchen floor were about to get real familiar.
He must’ve felt it too, because he straightened up quick.
“Aight, aight—I’ll give you a bonus chance,” he said, holding his other fist tighter this time. “But only if you answer this question correctly.”
Juliet nodded fast, relief washing over her as she bounced slightly on the island ledge, locked back into the game.
