Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(44)

I only got two dollars. Pregnancy tests cost way more than that. I’d have to steal to get one from Wal-Mart. There’s only one store where I can get it now and pay for it later.

I gotta go to Mr. Wyatt’s.

I walk around the corner with my head down. I don’t know what I’m gon’ say to Mr. Wyatt. He gon’ wanna know why I need a pregnancy test. I should tell him it’s for a friend. Yeah, that’s it. It’s kinda true too—Lisa is a friend.

Who I’m kidding? He won’t buy that. He gon’ lay into me. Only thing worse would be— Shit, Ma. When I told her Iesha’s baby might be mine, she was so disappointed. There I was, doing exactly what the world expect from Black kids—making a baby while I’m a baby. If I got another one on the way already . . .

God, please let this test come back negative.

I nod at Mr. Wyatt’s nephew Jamal as he sweep the curb in front of the store. He a quiet, nerdy, stocky dude with dreadlocks. I don’t know if he ever said five words to me. The door to the store feel heavier than usual. The bell ring to let Mr. Wyatt know he got a customer. He at the cash register, talking to Mr. Lewis. Damn, do that man ever cut hair?

“Hey, son,” Mr. Wyatt says to me. “You okay?”

Hope he don’t see my legs shaking. “Yeah. I gotta grab something real quick.”

“Bet’ not expect to get it for free,” Mr. Lewis butts in. “Just ’cause you work for Clarence don’t mean you get freebies.”

“Hold on now, Cletus. Don’t come up in my store tryna run things.”

While they fuss, I go look for the test. Problem is, I don’t know where pregnancy tests would be. Near the bathroom tissue? That make sense. Lisa gotta pee on it. I go to that aisle but nah, they not there. Near the baby diapers? That make sense. You checking to see if you having a baby. Nah, they not there. I go near the lady stuff. Pads, tampons, that kinda shit. Ma send me in here sometimes to buy her tampons. It’s embarrassing as hell.

That’s exactly where the pregnancy tests at. Mr. Wyatt got two kind. I can’t tell a difference, and I ain’t taking a chance. I grab one of each.

Time to face Mr. Wyatt. My steps sound loud as hell to me, and the cash register farther away than usual.

Mr. Wyatt and Mr. Lewis watch me approach. Mr. Wyatt’s eyes drift down to what’s in my hands. His forehead wrinkle, as if he not sure of what he see.

I make it clear for him. I set the pregnancy tests on the counter.

“Aw, hell. You don’t need condoms,” Mr. Lewis says. “You need a damn vasectomy.” He limp out the store, going, “Ri-damn-diculous!”

Mr. Wyatt pinch the space between his eyes. “Son. Please tell me these are not for you.”

I stare at the floor. “They not. They for a friend.”

“Look at me and say it.”

I can’t. I couldn’t look at myself in a mirror right now and say it.

“Good God, boy. When the Lord said replenish the earth, he didn’t expect you to do it yourself. Do you know how to use a condom?”

“I usually wear protection, Mr. Wyatt. It was only this one time.”

“Obviously not. You got Seven. Son, you gotta be smarter than this. You can’t go around just making babies. How are you gonna provide for them? Take care of them?”

I don’t know. All I can do is stare at my kicks.

Mr. Wyatt come from behind the counter and clasp the back of my neck like he did that day in the garden. He sighs. “Who is the young lady?”

“Lisa,” I mutter. “She waiting at my house now.”

“Don’t keep her waiting, then.”

I swallow. “I don’t have the money. Can I—”

“I’ll take it out your paycheck,” he says.

I mumble a “thank you,” stuff the tests under my jacket, and go home.

Lisa pace around my kitchen. There’s three empty soda cans on the kitchen table, and she sip from a fourth.

I set the boxes on the table. “What you doing?”

“I’ll need to pee to take the tests,” she says. “So I’m trying to fill my bladder.”

“Oh. I got two tests. I couldn’t tell the difference, so I grabbed them both.”

“Good. The more, the better. You know, I bet I’m not pregnant. It’s probably a coincidence that I’m late and that I threw up. I know my body. I would know if a freaking embryo was in my uterus, right?”

I don’t know nothing. “Maybe?”

“I would know.” Lisa grab the boxes. “They’re gonna be negative.”

She mutter that the whole way to the bathroom. I follow her and wait in the hall.

“They’re gonna be negative,” she says on the other side of the door. “They’re—shit!”

Oh, damn. “What it say?”

“Nothing! I peed on my freaking hand!”

I’d laugh if this were another situation. “You need more pee?”

“What, are you gonna pee for me?”

“Dag, I was only asking!”

“Whatever,” she mumbles.

I shut up and wait. After a while, the toilet flush, and Lisa open the door. “Both tests will take five minutes.”

Five minutes never seemed so long. “A’ight.”