Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(15)

“What? You got something else lined up?”

“Nah—no, sir. I uhhh . . . I know you can’t pay me a whole lot.”

“I can pay you the same thing them other jobs would,” he says. “What’s the problem?”

“Nothing,” says Dre. “That sound good, don’t it, Mav?”

I swear to God if he don’t shut the hell—

“If you’re worried about childcare, I can help with that,” Mrs. Wyatt offers. “I wouldn’t mind keeping the baby during the day.”

“For a fee,” Mr. Wyatt adds. “Nothing’s free around here.”

“Clarence!” Mrs. Wyatt scolds.

“Well, it ain’t! He’s gotta learn that now.”

“I’m good, Mrs. Wyatt,” I say. “Li’l Man gon’ be back with his momma soon.” I hope.

“All right,” Mr. Wyatt says. “It’s not childcare, and it’s not the pay. What’s the problem?”

“There’s not a problem,” Dre says. “Mav will take it.”

What the—like hell I will.

Mr. Wyatt fold his arms. “He’s got a mouth, Andre. I wanna hear from him. Maverick, do you want the job?”

Hell no.

On the other hand . . . I do need something now that Dre made me stop slinging. I can’t leave all them bills plus my son on Ma.

Goddamn. Guess I gotta man up. “Yeah. I’ll take it.”

“Good,” Mr. Wyatt says. “You can start the same day that school starts. Four hours after school, all day on Saturdays, and off on Sundays. Jamal handles things then. Some days you’ll work here in the store. Other days, in my garden. I don’t tolerate foolishness, and I don’t tolerate gang drama.”

Mr. Wyatt know we claim King Lords. It’s pretty normal around here, messed up as that is.

Dre drape his arm around my shoulder. “He won’t bring any foolishness or drama, Mr. Wyatt.”

I shake his traitor ass off. “I’m gon’ go get my stuff,” I mumble.

Mrs. Wyatt offer to watch my son while I shop. I grab a cart and give it a shove down the aisle as hard as I wanna shove Dre. He come up behind me, talking ’bout, “You a’ight?”

“Hell nah,” I hiss, and turn on him. We far enough that the Wyatts won’t hear. “You know what you got me into?”

“Dawg, it’s a job! A job that your ass needs. Long as you do what you supposed to do, you’ll be a’ight. Besides, Mr. Wyatt ain’t that bad.”

“Says who?”

“It could be worse. You could be working for Mr. Lewis.”

True that. Mr. Lewis the barber next door, and that man the definition of pain in the ass.

“You said you wanna help Auntie Faye out,” Dre go on. “This a good way to do it. Men do what they gotta do, and it’s time to man up, remember?”

I hate when this fool right. “Yeah. A’ight.”

He hold his palm out, and I slap it. “C’mon, let’s get these groceries, starting with some toothpaste,” Dre says. “’Cause your breath is kicking!”

I give him a middle finger. He go off down the aisle, cracking up.

I get everything on Ma’s list. It take all the money I have left after buying Lisa’s necklace. I ask Mr. Wyatt for an employee discount. He look at me like I spoke another language. I don’t get a discount.

Dre push the shopping cart toward the door, and I push my son’s stroller. Li’l Man is knocked out after Mrs. Wyatt worked her magic. I almost wanna beg her to put him to bed tonight.

Before Dre can open the door, somebody on the other side do it for him. I freeze.

It’s Tammy, Lisa’s best friend.

Tammy’s momma, Ms. Rosalie, is right behind her. She give us a bright smile. “Hey, Maverick and Dre! How are y’all—”

She notice the stroller and the baby sleeping inside of it, and her eyes get big. Tammy’s eyes already wide.

Dre said it would bite me in the ass if I didn’t tell Lisa. This feel like my ass getting put on the platter.

I clear my throat. “We good, Ms. Rosalie. How y’all doing?”

They exchange looks, and I swear they talking without talking. “We’re fine, baby,” Ms. Rosalie says. “Came to pick up a couple of things.”

Tammy eye me like a damn detective. “Whose baby?”

Aw, shit.

“Uh, we gotta bounce.” Dre come through with the save. “Y’all have a good one.”

“You too,” says Ms. Rosalie.

Tammy make this sound like she sucking something from between her teeth. I ain’t gotta say the baby is mine. She know.

I follow Dre out the door, heart pounding in my ears. I wonder if that’s really a ticking bomb I hear. It ain’t a matter of if Tammy gon’ tell Lisa, it’s when. And when she do . . .

Shit gon’ blow up.

I gotta talk to Lisa. Now.





Six


Dre agree to drop me off at Lisa’s house. He gon’ drive around with Li’l Man for a bit ’cause car rides apparently help babies sleep. The time it take my son to nap is around the time it’ll take for me to break Lisa’s heart.

We pull up at a peach-colored house with a fence around it. Lisa live in one of the nicest houses on the west side. Her momma keep the yard on point. Step on her grass, she’ll cuss you out. That’s probably why she put the fence up. Let her tell it, she got it to keep “mannish boys” out. She said it while looking at me.