Both Of Them

The bus slows with a hiss, stopping at the familiar corner near Theo's neighborhood. The sky has faded into a dark blue curtain, the last rays of sunlight swallowed by the horizon. The air is cooler now, the breeze brushing past my skin and making me pull my jacket tighter around myself.

Theo stands first. He takes my hand again without asking, and I let him. We step off the bus and into the quiet of his street. There aren't many cars this time of night. Just the sound of our footsteps, the faint buzz of streetlights, and the distant clatter of dishes from someone's open kitchen window.

We turn left, walking a short distance before we see the taco stand. A warm orange umbrella shields it, and the smell hits me before we even reach it. Grilled meat. Cilantro. Lime.