Red and blue and yellow smear across the hardwood, bright against the scuffed brown, and in the center of it all, you pat the floor with both palms, watching the colors swirl together into muddy purple.

A half-crushed tube of blue lies by your knee, and a puddle of red spreads toward the couch like spilled juice.

The balcony door is open just a crack. Outside, your dad and the guys are laughing, the clink of beer bottles drifting in with the warm evening air.

Then the front door swings wide.