I stand in my little brother’s dorm room, visiting. It’s been almost a decade since I’ve sat in one of my own. He is working on some school project or another. I am cooking dinner.
My brother’s phone buzzes. He looks at it then yells, “Yeah, come in!”
The door opens and some late teen in a tank top walks in.
“No dibs,” my brother says, not looking up from his computer.
His friend sits across. He nods to me.
“Who’s up?” he says, pointing my way.
“Brother,” my brother tells him.
“Sup Bro,” Tank-top says, then adds “what kicks?”
I frown. “A horse, if you stand behind it,” I decide.
Tank-top laughs. “Dope,” he says, then adds, pensively, “dope.”
“So, how was your get-out?” My brother asks.
“Dope A-F,” Tank-top says, taking a selfie.
My brother’s phone buzzes. “Nice snap,” he says.
Tank-top doesn’t respond. He is taking another selfie, this time with his tongue out. My brother’s phone buzzes again.
“Dope,” he says.
“So, where’d you get your pilot’s license, bro?”
The room is silent. I put water on to boil.
“He’s talking to you,” My brother says. I look at tank-top, his fingers blurring over the screen of his phone.
“I say,” Tank-top says, “where’d you, like, get your pilot’s license?”
I frown at his down-turned face.
“I’m not a pilot.”
“Nah, like, what’s your thing bro? Your bread and butter.”
I look to my brother. He shrugs. The water boils.
“My job!” I realize. “Oh, just doing a bit of construction.”
“On fleek, bro. So, anything crack while I was gone?” Tank-top asks my brother, I assume.
My brother shrugs. “The rhino fell off the wall.”
I stare into the boiling water. The rhino fell off the wall, I think. I think it over and over.
“Aw, damn,” Tank-top says. “You put it back up?” he adds.
My brother shakes his head. I try to think about what my brother has been up to lately. His girlfriend broke up with him. Maybe girls are rhinos now, I wonder. Or, no, a school project!
“What the hell?” I whisper to the boiling water.
“Should we put it back up then?” Tank-top asks.
My brother nods. He reaches under his bed and pulls out a silver rhino head. Tank-top takes it, along with a tack. He puts the rhino back up on the wall. He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture.
My brother’s phone buzzes.
Tank-top nods, full of pride. “Dope A-F,” he tells the rhino on the wall.
I sigh, adding pasta to the water.