Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(51)

“Maverick—”

“I thought we was in this together.”

Lisa scoff. “Yeah, that was real clear this morning.”

I should’ve known that would come up. “I was shocked, a’ight? I got a lot on me with Seven; you gotta understand that.”

“Then you shouldn’t have told me you were down with whatever I choose to do! I thought—” She close her eyes. “You know what? It doesn’t matter anymore. Now that my mom and my brother won’t be helping me out, I need to figure out what’s best for me and my baby.”

“You tryna say I ain’t best for y’all?”

“Honestly, I don’t know if you are.”

I stand up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my God, you know exactly what it means. You’re a King Lord, Maverick. You think I want my baby to have a gangbanger for a father?”

“You was a’ight with having one for a boyfriend!”

“This is way different! I don’t want my child around that stuff. To make it worse, you’re a drug dealer.”

“I stopped slinging! I been busting my butt, working for Mr. Wyatt!”

“Great. What are your plans beyond that?”

“I’ll figure it out!”

“I can’t depend on you to ‘figure it out,’” Lisa says. “I can’t even depend on you to not screw other girls! You think that’s enough for my baby?”

I thought it was bad that time she told Carlos I wasn’t worth the fight. This is worse. “You think I ain’t shit like your momma and your brother do.”

“I didn’t say that. However, you do make stupid decisions.”

“I told you, I’m done with the street stuff,” I say.

“Oh, you’re no longer a King Lord? Great.”

“You don’t get it.”

“What’s there to get?” she asks.

“A lot! You don’t know how it is in the streets! Sitting in your house without a clue.”

“Wooow.”

“I’m just saying we from two different worlds, that’s all.”

Lisa nod. “Yep. We’re obviously two different people. I’m just the bougie Catholic-school girl, right? Well this bougie Catholic-school girl and her baby deserve better than you.”

She could’ve slapped me, and it would’ve felt better. “It’s like that?”

“It’s whatever you think it is.”

Here I was, thinking we in this together. This girl got me looking like a damn fool. She worse than her momma and her brother. They tell me outright I’m not shit. Lisa made me think she actually loved me.

I see how it is now. Real clear. “A’ight,” I say, nodding. “Do you, Lisa.”

I give her all the space she need. I leave.





Eighteen


Thanksgiving used to be my favorite holiday. Then Dre died.

The fam’s taken over our house. Besides Aunt ’Nita, Uncle Ray, there’s Granny; Granny’s brother Billy; Uncle Billy’s wife, Hattie; their kids, grandkids, and the one great-grandbaby; Granny’s older sister, Letha, and her husband, Joe, and their son, Joe Jr. Keisha bringing Andreanna later. They’re with Keisha’s parents right now. Granny’s younger sister, Cora, will come after visiting with her son, Gary the lawyer. She says his wife can’t cook and she gotta stop by here to get some real food.

Our house magically feel bigger on the holidays when it should feel smaller with all these people here. Somehow today it feel empty. Dre ain’t here to sneak into the kitchen with me and taste-test the food. By now, he would’ve started a football game in the backyard. The second his team lost he’d claim somebody cheated.

This shit the worst. The fam ain’t as loud and ain’t laughing as much. It’s like they’re having Thanksgiving ’cause it’s what they’re supposed to do. This probably foul, but seeing how much Ant hurt them, he got what he deserved.

Lisa not helping my mood. All that stuff she said yesterday play on repeat in my mind. She think I’m a good-for-nothing thug. A lot of people probably think that, can’t lie, but it hurt worse coming from her.

Uncle Ray, Uncle Billy, and them yell at a football game on the TV in the living room. All the kids run around in the backyard. Aunt Letha taking a nap in my room. She said she got a headache, but Granny think that’s a cop-out ’cause she don’t like to cook. Aunt Hattie can’t cook, so Granny won’t let her in the kitchen.

I carry Seven in there. I don’t know if it’s all these people or what, but he real clingy today. I tried to put him in his playpen with Uncle Billy’s great-grandson, and he threw a fit. I ain’t been able to put him down yet.

There’s foil-covered aluminum pans all over the kitchen. Aunt ’Nita stir a big pot of greens on the stove. Ma and Granny take pans out the oven. It’s smelling good up in here. The turkey ready—Uncle Billy fried it this morning. Last I checked, we waiting on the ham.

Seven fuss in my arms. He gotta be hungry, acting like this. I grab a bottle outta the fridge and hold it up to his mouth. I guess I ain’t fast enough. He hold it and feed himself.

“Don’t let him drink too much, Maverick,” Ma says. “Give him some mashed sweet potatoes later, see if he likes those.”