Malcolm watched them all nervously. Then they took a deep breath and stepped out the door, the train flowing out behind them.
The audience gasped. Malcolm looked at Janet, their nerves taking over. Janet yelled, “You got this, Malcolm! And I got you.” Malcolm’s lips quirked up in a tiny smile.
No more fear, they whispered under their breath. The lump in their throat began to ease. Malcolm released the sides of the train and took another deep breath in. Then they smiled and began speaking.
“My name is Malcolm Jamal Jennings. Today I am thirteen years old. I am nonbinary. My pronouns going forward are ‘they’ and ‘them.’ ”
As soon as Malcolm finished speaking, everyone was silent, including both of Malcolm’s parents. Malcolm’s eyes started filling with tears, their hands back on the train, bunching in the fabric. Malcolm wanted to turn and run back into the house, but before they could make that dramatic exit, they heard a familiar voice. “And we love you, baby!” yelled Big Nanny. Malcolm looked at her and could see love and pride in her eyes.
And then it happened.
Malcolm’s father started clapping. Then their mother. Then everyone else. Malcolm smiled in disbelief as a tear rolled down their face.
Malcolm’s father walked up to them and gave them a hug. “I’m really proud of you, Malcolm.” Malcolm buried their head in their father’s chest. Malcolm’s mother came up and hugged them both. Then Malcolm’s parents stepped away to make room for Malcolm’s friends, who were crowding around them.
“Malcolm, you always got something going on,” Paul said. “But that’s what’s up. Wish more folks could be as brave as you.” They both dapped each other up. Jimmy walked up with a plate of food, and Janet immediately ran over with a napkin for him. Malcolm looked at Janet and muttered, “So thirsty.”
Then Jimmy said, “Malcolm, you never cease to amaze me. Mad respect. Just don’t wear that to cross-country practice.” Malcolm laughed and dapped him up too.
Uncle Frank was clapping just as loud behind the DJ booth. He started playing music and then got on the mic. “All right, all right, I wanna give a shout-out to my nibling, Malcolm!” Malcolm looked at Uncle Frank. “Hey, I been in this community awhile. I know the lingo.”
Janet whooped and started dancing. Malcolm joined in too, swirling their train in a circle as the air caught underneath it. Malcolm and Janet began two-stepping with one another to the beat. Malcolm smiled hard as they rocked their body from side to side.
Everyone else at the party moved toward the dance floor, and Big Nanny even got in the middle while everyone clapped. Then Malcolm’s dad, followed by their mother and their little brother. After a beat, Big Nanny smirked and gestured for Malcolm to join her in the center. Malcolm just smiled and laughed as they danced their way toward her and the rest of the family, holding their train like they were in a fairy tale and feeling lighter than air.
KASSIUS’S FOOLPROOF GUIDE TO LOSING THE TURKEY BOWL
BY DAVAUN SANDERS
Three minutes before halftime is over. I pluck at my kente bow tie for the hundredth time. Pretend like my dress shirt isn’t stuck to my back. Wipe my forehead. Check the cake—our backyard trees shade the canopy, but the buttercream frosting is sweating worse than I am. My question is written in fancy cherry-red cursive that the cake lady promised me is undefeated. Except Maya’s not here to answer—another few minutes and she won’t even be able to read it.
I smell amazing, at least. I think.
Two minutes. My team’s gonna be looking for me soon. I unfold a flickering silver hole in the air. My Fuerza is portals, and I can will them open to anyplace I’ve tried so far. Legend stuff, right? But this portal’s just peeking back at the street in front of our house. Game’s about to start. This has got to work. I close my portal, clap two times, and yell out: “Ball!”
Maya heard that. Had to. I try not to twirl the rose stem between my fingers. Footsteps. Finally. She’s here, this is my time to shine. I turn and—it’s just Daed, ducking into the canopy.
“We are late, bro!” He winces at the table. “Dang. She didn’t find the cake?”
“The frosting is kinda melty. It’s supposed to say ‘no’ on the left corner and ‘yes’ on the right. Can you read it?”
“Yeah, but—is that supposed to be you and Maya?”
“Yeah…”
He squints. “I like the red jacket, but they got your skin a little…green.”
“She loves ‘Thriller,’ okay? I don’t make the rules.”
“Whatever. Can we please go win this—” Daed stops and sniffs. “Wait. What’s that smell?”
“A lil bit of Pop’s Faux-Bama.”
“Kash!”
“What? It’s a big day up in here!”
“My guy, you don’t put on cologne over sweat. That’s fresh funk!”
“Whatever. It’s going to work. I’m telling you! We only gotta see it through.”
“Just…get your head in the game, okay? I got Auntie Deidra to make my boo try her jalapeño mac and cheese. You know he hates playing defense with the bubble guts.” He cuffs my shoulder and gives me a look. “But I need my running back.”
I reluctantly set the rose down beside the cake. I shed the formal gear and pull on my custom-made jersey with our team name, Cheat Code Squad. Turkey Bowl official. Gold and scarlet—my pop’s shout-out to the best team to ever do it. Rocking number 21 like my fave running back.
We hustle out to Vancey Street. Our whole cul-de-sac is shut down for First Peoples’ Remembrance Day, cars stuffed into garages or moved around the corner for the big game. The Jacksons’ yard is full of kinfolk going in on third and fourth plates from long tables stacked with turkey, corn bread, all manner of salads, stuffing, ham, mashed potatoes, grilled tofu, greens, cranberry sauce, mac and cheese, and roasted veggies. And don’t even get me started about desserts.
These are our people, all with some kind of Fuerza, speedsters and energy conductors rubbing elbows with shape-shifters, matter manipulators, and more. And that’s only the stuff they’ve figured out names for.
Chairs fill the entire yard and some folks even perch on surrounding rooftops. Team Glitch is huddled up already with Royce, Daed’s boyfriend, serving up their attack plans. He rubs his belly and I grin—that jalapeño mac must be getting to him.
My heart does a little wiggle at the sight of Maya, pushing a pebble down the gutter with one of her Chucks. She’s pulled up her hoodie, but I stray close enough to catch a hint of jojoba from her freshly twisted locs. Maya’s Fuerza, time travel, is rare—I think it’s why she likes old stuff—but she’d still be amazing without it.
I smile. “Every year, sitting on the curb. Are we ever gonna get you to play?”
“Play? Time travel and football fit together like…I don’t know…”
“Jalapeños and mac and cheese?” I offer.
Maya’s lips twitch. “I’m lucky they still let me referee.” She thumbs back at her folks, who are suddenly hawking me from across the greens pot.
“We good, Maya?”
“Fine, Mom!” She sighs and begins scrolling her phone. “You better go. Last time I got in trouble, they made me spend a weekend living two hundred years ago. No Wi-Fi.” She shudders. “And we churned actual butter.”
A huge arm lassoes my shoulders. “Kassius. Would you leave that girl be?” Pop finally stopped dyeing the gray in his goatee, but he’s just as strong as his superhero days. Pop coaches Cheat Code Squad along with Daed’s dad. His nose wrinkles, and he sniffs the air around me. “Why does it smell like Leader of the Free World’s armpit around here?”
I shrug off his arm. “They, uh…need me in the huddle!”
“Please go win this one!” he hollers after me. “I don’t need to hear Royce’s old man flapping his gums about this game all the way to Kwanzaa!”<
br />
Daed gives me a pressed look as I finally join Cheat Code Squad’s huddle. I glance around at our other teammates: Syd warps gravity, and Valencia is an elemental. He’s a little scary, and she might weigh a buck soaking wet, but Daed—our QB—couldn’t ask for better line protection. “We gotta slow down the summoning or they finna cook us like last year. Vonchi, you want some getback, right?”
“You know this!” Our wide receiver Vonchi’s palms glow in anticipation. “Just throw me the ball.”
“Run straight at him. Kash will be on time.” Daed flashes me a look. “Right?”
A voice shivers into my brain. You know this plan of yours is busted.
“Laurence, go on somewhere!” I shout as I peek over at Team Glitch’s huddle. Laurence, their skinny telepath, smirks and waves. Great. Royce must have filled them in on my plan, because they all look big mad.
“Told you,” Daed hisses. “No one messes with Turkey Bowl, not for nothing!”
“We good,” I say hastily. “I got you, Vonch!”
Daed snorts, levitating the football over his palm as we line up. Turkey Bowl rules are simple: sidewalk is out of bounds. Four quarters with four downs, four chances to score a touchdown. Our Fuerza is part of the game. I’m wide right, and Vonchi is to the left. Our kinfolk still in anticipation on the sidelines, murmuring and nudging each other in the ribs, sliding their sunglasses on.
“Blue, one-zero! Kwanzaa!” Daed claps twice, glares at me—then does a quick spin, crisp as a ballerina. Perfect! Chortles erupt from the seats, but Maya’s scrolling her phone. She missed it!
“What’s with the dancing?” Daed’s dad barks. “Play ball!”
“Blue, one-zero! Go!”
Vonchi and I both streak down the street. My defender gives me plenty of cushion, instead of jamming me at the line with their dark matter powers. Royce is Team Glitch’s safety; he cheats over to help cover Vonchi. She’s faster than everyone else on the street.
Daed heaves a perfect back-shoulder fade to her side. I raise a portal up right behind her, a translucent disk of mercury. She turns, snags the ball, vanishes through it—
—then pops out of its twin, five yards behind her defender. He tries to turn, but his ankles fold up! He plops on the asphalt as she tears up the street.
The crowd gives a thrilled scream. Royce barrels toward Vonchi. Light blazes from Vonchi’s free palm at Royce, who flails back with a lightning strike. She staggers, and Laurence saves the touchdown with a shoestring tackle.
“Second down,” Maya calls.
Next play is mine. We stayed up late after last night’s spades tournament, working out the physics. “Green, fifty-two!” Daed slips on a single white glove, then claps his hands. Twice.
I shift and trot back toward him.
Maya’s frowning at Daed. More importantly, at his glove. Yes! We finally got her attention.
“Motion!” Royce calls. “Watch the trick play from the ugly one!”
“Green, fifty-forget-you! Go!”
I take the direct snap from our center, Syd. Team Glitch’s summoner blitzes with her Fuerza. The street ripples with motes of red light. Little creatures with red webbed feet pour out of the ground like giant slimy tadpoles! Syd scampers back with a shriek, but still centers his density warp on the football. At the same time, Daed’s levitation vaults me forward.
My job? Don’t. Drop. The. Rock.
I smash through the netherworld beasties like a bowling ball. But instead of sailing straight into the end zone, I sink to the street. Syd’s completely shook—beasties are gumming on his shoelaces and he’s lost control of his Fuerza. I’m stuck! Fences angle toward the street. Trees creak and lean toward the football. Cracks spiral through the asphalt.
Royce drags himself forward to touch me. “Down!” he shouts. “Call ’em off!”
The battle guppies wriggle into the asphalt. Gravity goes back to normal and I take in a big gulp of air. Energy crackles around Royce as we stand up. “You need to focus and play ball,” he warns. “Do you know how hot her folks will be if they figure out your plan?”
“Third down,” Maya calls. Maybe Royce is right. I can’t tell if any of this is working or not. She won’t even look my way.
“Your boo is doing too much,” I tell Daed, back in the huddle.
“He ain’t the only one. Vonch, I’m looking for you again.”
I bite my tongue. Daed’s under extra pressure—his dad and Pop want this dub. Bad.
I line up closer to help him. If Team Glitch summons more beasties, I’ll portal them into Royce’s bedroom.
“Gold, twenty-two! Go!”
Vonchi races forward and cuts across the middle behind Royce. Her defender gets roasted once again—but Laurence backpedals to help. My defender rushes for Daed, snatching webs of glowing black tar from thin air. Daed vaults over the attack, ready to heave the ball—but Vonchi’s defender is a shape-shifter: two of her wave for the pass.
I’m wide open. “Throw the ball to me!” I slap, slap my hands together, whip kick my leg out, and throw my own white-gloved hand up high. Sure, Maya’s frowning, but that doesn’t matter. She saw!
Daed checks down to me. I get ten yards with the ball before Royce’s lightning snatches my quads. I lob a portal at the ground, blind—anywhere that keeps me from being called down by contact. I fall through the flash of silver. My arms and legs flail for an instant before I crash into freezing water.
What the—? Then I remember: last week’s science project in the Pacific. Royce is still behind me, gurgling in frustration. His lightning won’t work down here. I toss out another portal—
—and spill back onto Vancey Street. Water gushes through the hole in the air behind me. A touchdown is just ten yards away, but the end zone suddenly lurches off into the distance, like our block just grew a mile long. No way you’re gonna win this, fam!
Is there anything worse than a telepath messing with your brain? “Laurence, get out of my head!”
“I got you, Kash!” Vonchi shouts. I squeeze my eyes shut an instant before her light pulses out. Laurence groans beside me, but still manages to grab hold of my jersey. Syd centers his gravity Fuerza on Laurence, who suddenly weighs twenty pounds. He gets the stiff arm and goes sailing into the Jacksons’ fence.
The street snaps into focus with Laurence out of the way. The end zone’s right there!
Electricity locks up my whole body. Royce springs out of nowhere, sopping wet, and absolutely trucks me. I slap into the asphalt so hard that windowpanes rattle up and down the street.
Royce’s celebration would make Patrick Willis cry tears of pride. Ocean water pools in the crater around me. A few unlucky tuna flop around on the street. Vonchi glares at one like she’s tempted to kick it.
“Come on now,” my pop calls.
“Team Glitch for the dub! Who. Y’all. Messing. With!” Royce looks down at me, smiles, and claps two times. Then he throws up zombie arms and high-steps around me, left, then right, then left again.
“Sportsmanship!” my pop rumbles.
Royce hastily yanks me to my feet. “Thank you!” I whisper. “That was perfect!”
“You’re a buster and I lost your stupid glove in the ocean,” he whispers back. “Good luck!”
Maya frowns at us behind her sunglasses. “Fourth down coming up.”
I limp back to the huddle, remembering to close my portal. Folks are carrying off huge bluefin tuna, laughing, calling loudly for coolers. Maya’s dad is boiling water off the flooded street using his Fuerza—heat induction—and he’s chuckling too.
Daed gazes at the end zone and sighs. We’re right there. We can score. But if we do, Maya won’t have a reason to time travel—and my whole plan is worthless. It’s not fair to my team, but before I even ask, Vonchi claps a hand on my shoulder and says, “You owe us bi
g, Kash!”
“I’ll never forget this, y’all!”
Daed shakes his head, but a smile quirks his lips. “It’s on you now—I hope you’re right.”
I limp over to where Pop and Daed’s dad are nursing their lemonades. They’re both cackling because the losing team’s coach grills for the whole block. “Maybe we can teach him how to sear some tuna after he finishes up our ribs,” Daed’s dad wheezes.
“You aight?” Pop asks. “Royce laid one on you.”
“Pop.” I meet his gaze. “I need you to throw the challenge flag. I’m pretty sure they’ve been…cheating.”
Both men stop smiling. “Say what now?”
I tap my temple. “Laurence was in our huddle back at the beginning.”
Even if you get grounded over this, Laurence whispers in my head, I’mma still need all your comic books. Hand delivered.
Bet, I think back at him. That’s the deal.
“Son,” Pop says warningly. “Calling folks cheaters? That’s not how we do.”
“Pop, I need this one. Please.”
They exchange a long look. “You been playing at something all day.”
“All week,” I admit.
“If this is about…” Pop glances at Maya, then takes a long pull from his lemonade and sighs. “I was shole looking forward to those ribs.”
He plucks a red bandanna from the belt loop of his jeans, the gravel inside it tied around with a rubber band to give it a little weight. He flings it. Disbelieving gasps ripple through our friends and family as the challenge flag lands in the middle of the street.
Maya stands straight up. She strides up to us and peels off her sunglasses. “A challenge? For what?”
Pop flashes me a sideways frown. “It’s on you.”
“Cheating.” Her eyebrows rise as I continue. “Laurence spied on our plays. We tried to call it out, so you could find it faster when you time travel back. Like this.”
I clap two times.
“Those are all the ones we need you to review, all right?” I catch Maya’s eyes, and she searches my face. “You better…go.”
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