Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(58)

Dr. Byrd laughs. “I get why he called it a blob. Look closely and you can make out the head and the limb buds.”

Part of it do look like a li’l round head, and li’l things stick out near the bottom. “I think I see them.”

“I see them,” Lisa whispers. “And that part that’s thumping in the middle?”

“That’s the heart,” Dr. Byrd says. “Sometimes, you can’t hear it this early so don’t be alarmed. But let’s see if we can—”

She twist a knob on the ultrasound machine, and a muffled boomp-boomp-boomp fill the room. I don’t got words. Don’t think any good enough.

Lisa’s eyes glisten. “That’s my baby. I mean, my embryo.”

Dr. Byrd smiles. “That’s your embryo.”

She later tells us that Lisa’s due date is around mid-July. So far everything look good. Dr. Byrd print out a sonogram picture for Lisa and one for me and write a prescription for prenatal vitamins. She wanna see Lisa in a month.

Lisa get dressed, and I lead her to the waiting room and toward the billing desk. Lisa too caught up in her sonogram to pay attention to where she going.

“My little peanut,” she murmurs.

Her momma’s insurance cover most of the visit. As mean as Ms. Montgomery is, I’m surprised she didn’t take Lisa off. Lisa only got something called a co-pay that we gotta cover.

I slide my backpack off and search for my wallet. “How much is it?”

“Twenty dollars,” the older Black lady at the desk says.

I only got a stick of gum. Mr. Wyatt paid me last week. I covered the light bill, the water bill, and bought some toys for Seven.

I gotta have more than this. I search my wallet and my backpack all over. Lisa watch, and the lady at the desk watch.

“My bad,” I mumble. My cheeks burn. “I know I got a—”

“Mav, it’s okay,” Lisa says. “I can pay it.”

“Nah, I got it. I just gotta find—”

“What’s wrong?” Carlos ask.

He would bring his nosy butt over here. “Nothing. I got it.”

“My co-pay is twenty dollars,” Lisa explains. “Mav’s trying to pay but—”

This dude push me aside. He take out his wallet and hand the lady the twenty. “Somebody here has too many kids to pay for.”

Man, if we weren’t in this doctor’s office . . . “I only got one other kid, fool.”

“Apparently one too many. Exactly how do you plan on taking care of my sister’s child?”

My jaw tighten. “That ain’t your concern.”

“In other words, you don’t know how. Figures. C’mon, Lisa,” he says. “I’ll take you out to eat, which is more than this thug can do. My niece or nephew is probably hungry.”

I wait for Lisa to defend me. But she stare at the floor and push a braid behind her ear. “Talk to you later.”

She follow her brother outta the doctor’s office, and I’m left alone with a stick of gum.

Lisa depending on me, Seven depending on me, and so is my new baby. It’s real clear that I can’t do much for any of them with what Mr. Wyatt pay me. If I can’t pay a twenty-dollar co-pay, I damn sure can’t pay for diapers or food.

The way Dre wanted me to live just don’t work.

I gotta get back in the drug game.





Part 3


Dormancy





Twenty


Bright green grass starting to grow on top of Dre’s grave. It’s a sure sign that spring almost here, and the worst reminder that life going on without him.

He buried far enough in the back of the cemetery that there’s no noise from the cars on the freeway. Aunt ’Nita and Uncle Ray got him a real nice headstone. It’s got his name, birth date, death date, and it call him a beloved son and father, which don’t seem like enough. In cursive it say, “We loved him, but God loved him more.” Hard to believe that.

I sit on the grass with my back to his headstone. It’s one of them cold February days where the sun so bright it almost fool you into thinking you don’t need a coat. Teddy bears, flowers, and cards decorate Dre’s gravesite. I pick up a piece of pink construction paper shaped like a heart. There’s some little figures drawn in crayon. I guess it’s supposed to be Andreanna and her daddy.

It’s enough to make me tear up. I wipe my eyes. “This ain’t cool, Dre. I shouldn’t be crying already. It’s been a while since I rolled through, huh? My bad, dawg. Things been hectic. I bet you too busy hanging with ’Pac and Granddaddy to notice. Before you start, nah, I ain’t skipping school today. We off. The teachers got some developmental shit going on. I figured I’d holla at you.”

I rest my head back against his headstone. “The streets real rough, Dre. You know Shawn got busted a couple of months ago. Word is, the cops traced his gun to a murder. He may not ever get out. Now P-Nut calling himself the crown.” I shake my head. “That dumbass don’t know how to run anything. Him and some of the big homies beefing. It’s so much drama and division, dawg. Me, King, Rico, and Junie decided we gotta look out for ourselves. We watch out for the youngins, too. I know that’s what you’d want us to do.