Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(20)

Dre look at me. “Hold up. You showing up for the first day of school like that? I know crackheads who iron their clothes, Mav.”

Nobody roast you like your own family. Nobody. “Forget you. I had a fresh outfit till Li’l Man shitted on me.”

Dre bust out laughing. Fool sound like one of the hyenas from The Lion King. “He showing you who in charge, huh?”

“Who you telling?” I get quiet as I scratch behind Blu’s ears. “I walked out on him last night, Dre.”

“Who? Your son?”

I nod. “He wouldn’t stop—I didn’t know how to make him stop crying, man, and I was tired and—” I shake my head at myself. “I walked out the house and left him crying.”

“Did you go back?”

I look up at him. “Of course I did.”

“That’s what matters,” Dre says. “Parenting is hard, cuz. You gon’ break sometimes. The most important thing is that you pull yourself together and go back, playboy.”

“A’ight, Oprah,” I say, and straighten up. “I better get outta here ’fore I’m late to school.”

“Hold up.” Dre come over to me. He slip his gold chain from his neck and drape it over mine, then he slide his gold watch off and clasp it on my wrist. The watch used to be our granddaddy’s. He gave it to Dre before he died. “There. That’ll make you a li’l bit fly. Bring my shit back tomorrow, I ain’t playing.”

I crack a smile. “I owe you.”

“Focus on them grades, that’s all you gotta do for me. You bet’ not get in trouble either, or I’ll roll through. Now get outta here.”

“A’ight, a’ight,” I say as he push me toward the sidewalk. “Holla at you later.”

Garden High is really named Jefferson Davis High School, but people rarely call it that. I researched that man and nothing need to be named after him. He was a slave owner and the president of the Confederate states. Garden Heights always been mostly Black, and I figure whoever named the school after him did it as a middle finger to all of us, like they calling us slaves.

Fuck that, and fuck Jefferson Davis.

I climb the front stairs of the school. Since my first day freshman year, I’ve had one goal—graduate and get up outta here. I figure I been in school this long. It would be stupid to not walk away from it all with something. Just gotta pass my classes, stay outta trouble, and be done with it. Then I can focus on important stuff, like making money.

The hallways mad packed, and it’s obvious it’s the first day. Everybody else look like they came from the mall and from getting their hair done. Li’l Man got me looking like a bum.

People say, “Whaddup, Li’l Don,” as I pass them in the halls. I guess I’m popular or whatever. This one dude mean-mug the shit outta me though. I think his name is Ant. That green bandana hanging from his back pocket tell everybody he a Garden Disciple. This the only high school in the neighborhood, so King Lords and GDs all go here, and stuff always pop off.

I don’t know why this dude staring me down, and I really don’t wanna get into nothing on the first day. I keep it moving till he call out, “Tell your bitch-ass cousin to watch his back.”

I turn around. “What?”

Ant close in on me. His name make sense—he short as hell. It’s always the short ones who instigate, on some Napoleon shit.

“I said tell your bitch-ass cousin to watch his back. He got some nerve coming to the east side with that racing shit and making money on our turf.”

Dre love to race his car for money. Usually he only do it on the west side. Said the east too risky, being GD territory and all.

It ain’t against the codes for him to race over there, and I ain’t finna let nobody come at my cousin.

“He can race wherever the hell he wanna. We run the Garden, fool.”

“Y’all don’t run shit!”

“Ayooooo!” Junie come up behind me. We been cool since kindergarten, and he claim gray. “We got a problem here?”

Rico with him, and suddenly it’s three King Lords versus one Garden Disciple. Ant outsized too. Junie almost seven feet tall—college basketball recruiters love that. Rico built like a linebacker; he always been the heaviest kid in class.

Ant back up, glaring me down. “Your cousin better watch his back.”

“Can your short ass reach his back?” I ask.

Junie and Rico bust out laughing. Once he gone, we do our handshakes.

“’Preciate it, y’all.”

“He really tried it on the first day,” Rico says.

“Feet probably dangle from the sidewalk, and he wanna start shit,” says Junie. “Them GDs been on one lately.”

“Word?” I say.

“Oh yeah. Dawg, remember last weekend?” Rico say to Junie, and they both crack up. “They didn’t see it coming!”

I look back and forth between them. “What happened last weekend?”

“You had to be there, Mav,” Junie claims. “Some stuff can’t be discussed in public, you know?”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sweat it, my G,” says Rico. “You’ll be back in the streets before you know it.”

“The big homies not tripping ’cause I’m stuck at home, are they?”