Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(24)

That’s one reason he my boy. “’Preciate it, but I got this.”

I hop out the car. Red smile all in this one lady’s face as he show her a purse. Bet it’s fake. He probably using some weak pickup line to convince her it’s real. Red one of them dudes who claim he “pretty” ’cause he got light skin with green eyes and wavy hair. The girls at Garden High love that. Red don’t go there; he around twenty-four, twenty-five. He the type that hang around the school and pick up young girls.

“Red!” I call as I cross the parking lot. “Let me holla at you!”

Don’t think I miss that “Shit” he hiss. He force a smile, flashing that one gold tooth he got in the front. “Mav! My main man. You good?”

“Hell nah! You gave me some fake Jordans.”

That lady he was talking to go, “Fake? Oh, hell no,” and walk off.

“Wait, baby! This a misunderstanding,” Red call after her. He turn to me and stomp his foot. “Maverick! That ain’t the kinda shit you announce! You tryna ruin me?”

“You lucky that’s all I’m doing. The Jumpman on these Jordans got a booty crack, Red!”

He put his hands up. “Hey, not my fault. You should’ve checked them first.”

“Dawg, you told me they were real!”

“And?”

This nig . . . “You know what? I done had a bad day and I ain’t in the mood. Give me my games back, and we’ll keep it moving.”

Red look me up and down like I dissed his momma. “All trades are final, partna. I sold them games already.”

“Then give me the money you made off of them.”

“I’m not giving you a damn thing! What I look like, a pawnshop?”

“Give me my money!”

King make his way over. “We got a problem here?”

“King, get your boy,” Red says. “I told him all trades are final.”

“And I told him he better give me my money!”

“Ay, ay, calm down, Mav,” King says with a hand on my chest. “It’s all good.”

What the— “No it ain’t!”

“Red told you trades are final,” King says. “Respect that man’s policy.”

Red smile wide. “Thank you, King! I knew you were a good dude.”

What kinda twilight-zone shit is this? “King, what the hell—”

King get this real sneaky grin. “It’s okay,” he says. “Since Red don’t wanna give you no money, we’ll make sure he can’t make no money.”

King flip one of the tables, tossing Red’s merchandise to the ground.

“What the hell!” Red yells.

You know what? Fuck it. I grab the other table and do the same thing. CDs, DVDs, and tapes crash onto the concrete. Red cuss like crazy. We run to the car, laughing our asses off.

I’m fifteen minutes late for my first day of work.

Me and King went to his crib, and I took a nap on his couch. Man, I didn’t realize how much I love sleep. One of the best things God ever created. When I woke up, a couple of hours had passed.

King drop me off at the Wyatts’ house. Mr. Wyatt told me his nephew would handle the store and I’d be working in the Wyatts’ garden today. A wood fence surround the backyard, and Mr. Wyatt tall enough that I spot him over it.

Hope he not mad that I’m late. “Hey, Mr. Wyatt.”

“The gate is open,” he says.

The Wyatts’ backyard is a garden. Flowers, fruits, and vegetables everywhere. There’s bird feeders and li’l fountains all around. A stone pathway lead to a gazebo in the middle. Hard to believe something this pretty in our neighborhood.

Mr. Wyatt water some flowers. Mrs. Wyatt bounce Li’l Man on her knee in the gazebo. He laugh with his fist in his mouth as drool run down his arm.

I smile. “Hey, man. How was he, Mrs. Wyatt?”

“Perfectly fine. This boy knows he has a big appetite. He’ll be ready for baby food soon.”

“Dang. I better work, then, huh?”

She laugh with me. “You got that right.”

Mr. Wyatt clear his throat real loud. Mrs. Wyatt stand up. “It’s time for this sweetie pie’s nap,” she says. “Let me get him inside.”

She leave me alone with her husband. I think it’s on purpose.

“Come here, son,” he says.

His tone say more than he do. I make my way over. “Sorry I’m late. I had to stay at school and—”

He spray water over his tomato plants. “Don’t let the rest of that lie come outta your mouth. I saw who dropped you off. I know what he’s into, and I doubt he only gave you a ride home. What were you doing with him?”

Play it cool, I tell myself. I only took a nap at King’s crib, but I left school early. Mr. Wyatt won’t be okay with that. “He my friend, Mr. Wyatt. We only hung out.”

“I told you I don’t tolerate that gang—”

“It wasn’t gang related, I promise.”

“Why did you lie if that’s all y’all were doing?”

“I figured you’d be cool if I said it was a school thing. He picked me up and we hung out. That’s it.”

Mr. Wyatt nods. “Okay. However, this is your first strike. Three strikes, and you’re fired.”