Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(40)

This morning Ma stopped in my doorway and said, “Why don’t you go to the game tonight?” At first I was like, nah. She off from her second job today. I couldn’t ask her to spend her free time watching my son.

“You’re not asking; I’m offering,” she said. “It would be good for you to get out and have some fun.”

I’m not stupid. This more ’bout Dre than anything. She gave me money, too, so I know she feel bad for me. Ten dollars. That should be enough to cover my ticket and a snack. I’m broke till I get paid the day after tomorrow. This ten is like a hundred to me.

I follow King, Junie, and Rico into the stadium. It’s cold enough to see my breath. I don’t care. This my first football game this year, and it’s gon’ be off the chain. Garden High taking on whack-ass Washington High, the school from Presidential Park. Our rivalry with them make King Lords versus GDs seem minor. We in their territory at their field, yet the entire Garden High here plus half our neighborhood.

It’s hard as hell to find some seats. We stand at the fence along the sidelines, right near the fifty-yard line. At least we’ll have a decent view.

King blow into his hands. “Them boys better whoop some washed-up Washington ass tonight.”

“Word,” Junie says, watching this girl pass by us. Shorty in a referee costume with her booty practically hanging out. “Ay, baby! You can blow my whistle any day.”

She flip him off. The rest of us bust out laughing. Halloween tomorrow. You’d think it’s tonight with all the costumes out here. Me, Ma, and Aunt ’Nita taking Andreanna and Seven trick-or-treating in Cousin Gary’s neighborhood tomorrow afternoon. A’ight, I’ll trick-or-treat; Seven gon’ chill in his stroller. Last year, folks acted funny if I asked for candy. This year I’ll lie and say it’s for the baby. People can’t say no to a cute baby.

“Can’t believe Mav finally out,” King teases. “You act like you on house arrest.”

Junie and Rico laugh. They know all about house arrest.

“Shut up,” I say. “My momma watching Li’l Man. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

Rico brush his waves. He keep a hairbrush at all times. “Iesha never take care of him?”

“She going through some stuff.” I look at King. “You seen her lately?”

“Man, forget that girl,” he says. “The game finna start.”

Whistles go off, and the Garden High band start an old Temptations song. They march into the stadium, led by the drum majors and majorettes and followed by the football team. Our side explode in cheers. Boos ring out across the field from the Washington High folks. Shit, we only get louder. Oh yeah, it’s going down tonight.

The majorettes out there, looking fine as hell in their leotards or whatever them things is. Maybe I’ll holla at one of them.

Yeah right. I ain’t hollering at nobody. I miss Lisa too much. I walk by her house every day on my way to work and leave notes for her in the mailbox. Her or her momma must get them—they disappear by the next day—but I ain’t got a response yet. I’m running outta options and ideas.

“The football team ain’t the same without you, King,” Junie says. “If you was out there tonight—”

“I wouldn’t let them fools get a touchdown,” King says. “I’m that n-i-double-g-a. They better recognize!”

We crack up. “You stupid, man,” I say.

“Real talk, dawg, they oughta let you back on the team,” Rico says. “You did everybody a favor by beating Coach’s racist ass.”

King watch the team do their pregame chant on the sidelines. “I miss it, can’t front. Would do almost anything to get back out there.”

I think getting kicked off the team was worse to him than getting kicked outta school.

King do a double take back at the bleachers. “Why that fool staring so hard?”

We all turn around. Ant and some Garden Disciples sit a couple of rows back, and Ant mean-mugging me real hard. He do that at school. I never say anything to him ’cause I don’t wanna risk us getting into it. Then I’d be breaking my promise to Shawn.

“He still mad that he got detention for talking shit to me last week,” I say. “Mrs. Turner went in on him.”

King hold his arms out like, What it is, then?

Ant wave him off and look somewhere else.

“Punk ass,” King says. “He try something tonight, we got you, Mav.”

“No doubt,” Rico says, and Junie go, “Fa’sho.”

That’s the thing ’bout your homeboys—when they got your back, they got your back. I might’ve lost Dre, but I still got brothers.

Going to a football game is kinda like getting hypnotized. I mean damn, we freezing our butts off and our feet probably gon’ be numb when this all over. We only care that our team up by ten at halftime.

For the first time in months, I feel like me again. Just me and my boys, cheering for our team and goofing off. I done had a kid for so long that I forgot that I’m still one.

The teams clear out, and the bands make their way onto the field. Battle of the bands can get as hype as the game. Most folks staying in their seats to see it. The line at the concession stand probably ain’t long then.

“I’m gon’ go get some nachos,” I say. “Y’all want something?”