Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(54)

I pour out some Sunkist for him. That was his favorite. “Wish you were here, dawg.”

I take a sip and dig in. Goddamn, Ma, Granny, and Aunt ’Nita threw down. I’m gon’ need a couple more plates before the day over.

Wonder if Lisa able to eat or if her morning sickness been bad. I ain’t called her today. She want space, fine, I’ll give her space. Don’t mean she not on my mind.

The front door swing open. “Dang, ain’t nowhere to sit in there,” King says.

He plop down on the steps beside me with two plates. He really gon’ sit here like he ain’t pulled some foul shit.

I set my plate down. “Yo, man, what’s up with this?”

“What’s up with what?” he ask, mouth full of corn bread dressing. “Man, your granny put her foot off in this.”

“You know what I’m talking ’bout. You and Iesha together?”

He put mac and cheese and a yam on the fork. “I guess. You got a problem with that?”

“You brought her to my house, knowing that girl ain’t around for our son.”

“Then shouldn’t you be happy I brought her?”

“Dawg, why didn’t you tell me she staying with you? I asked you at the football game, and you switched the subject on me.”

“She wasn’t staying with me then,” he says.

“Once she was, why you ain’t hit me up?”

“Ain’t like I see you, fool,” King says. “You never come around me or the set.”

“’Cause I’m busy taking care of my son, thanks to Iesha! You foul for—”

A loud, rusty Datsun screech to a stop in front of my house. The driver’s door fly open and a muscular, light-skinned dude jump out.

“What the hell?” King says.

The driver rush toward us. Nah, toward me. Right as I realize it’s Carlos, Lisa’s brother—

Bam! His fist connect with my eye.

“You son of a bitch!” he screams.

I don’t get a chance to say or do nothing. Carlos yank me off the steps and sling me into the yard. Soon as I hit the ground, his boots ram into my stomach, my chest, my legs, my back. I ball up to try to block the kicks.

Sound like the whole fam rush outside. Granny hollering, my little cousins hollering. Ma yell for somebody to stop Carlos. It take King plus three of Ma’s cousins to get him off.

“He knocked up my little sister!” Carlos screams as they hold him back. “This son of a bitch knocked up my little sister!”

I get on my knees. I can’t stand—everything spinning. Everything I can see, I mean. My right eye swelling shut from that sucker punch.

“Carlos,” I say as blood drip around my teeth. My lip busted. “I’m sorry, a’ight?”

“You piece of shit!” he says. “You ruined her life!”

He snatch away from King and them. Just as fast as he came, he get in his car, slam the door shut, and drive off.





Nineteen


It’s two days before I can see out my eye good. Four days later, and it’s still bruised.

This the first day back at school after Thanksgiving break, and my black eye getting me a lot of glances. I can’t go down the hall without somebody staring or snickering. I find Rico and Junie at the spot under the staircase where us King Lords hang out, and they both go, “Daaaamn,” when they see me.

“Who whooped your ass?” Rico asks.

“I hope they look as bad as you do,” Junie says.

“Forget y’all.”

“For real, what happened, dawg?” says Rico. “We’ll get back at somebody if you want.”

“It’s nothing. I bust my ass going down some stairs.”

Junie raise his eyebrows. “Them stairs got fists? That’s a black eye, my dude.”

“It was Mrs. Carter, wasn’t it?” Rico says. “Your momma look like she can throw hands.”

Junie nods. “Yep. She fine though.”

What the hell? “That’s my momma, fool!”

“And? She got ass.” He motion his hand like it’s going over her butt. “I’ll gladly be your stepdaddy.”

I punch the mess outta his arm.

“Ow! You need to be hitting whoever gave you that black eye!”

“Forget you. What’s up with y’all? How everything in the streets?”

“Dawg, did you hear? Shawn got busted on Thanksgiving,” Rico says.

“What?” I almost yell. “You lying!”

“I wish. He got pulled over during a traffic stop. You know they love to do them things during holidays. Cops found his piece and it wasn’t registered. They took him downtown.”

I wondered why he hadn’t come over on Thanksgiving. “He can’t get bailed out?”

Junie shake his head. “He a felon, and they take that shit real serious. Homie may be in there a minute.”

“Damn.” It don’t seem like it was that long ago when I was riding around with Shawn. I swear, in the Garden you’ll see a person one day, and the next they either locked up or dead. “Who running the set, then?”

“All the big homies wanna be in charge,” Junie says. “I’m glad we making money with King so I don’t gotta deal with they bull.”