Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(66)

Adults. Guess I ain’t a kid no more.

“You would take night classes over a three-month period,” Mr. Clayton explains. “At the end, you take an exam. You pass, you get your GED. You don’t, you take the classes again.”

And again and again. “I may as well come back here, then.”

“Sounds like you’ve got good reasons to give it a shot. A GED or a high school diploma will give you more opportunities to provide for your children.”

I already do that, and it don’t require returning to this goddamn school or taking a class.

Mr. Clayton hand me a card and tell me to call him if I decide I wanna enroll in the GED program. Then he say I can go back to class. You know, the classes I’m taking for no damn reason at all now.

I drop Mr. Clayton’s card and the pamphlet in the trash can on my way out the building.

What’s the point of a high school diploma or a GED? Nah, for real. People claim they’ll make my life easier, but all a high school diploma did for Ma was help her get two jobs that don’t pay enough.

Nah, man. I’m done with this school shit. It’s time to put all my focus on making money.

I go to King’s crib.

He rent a house near Rose Park. I knock on the front door since the doorbell never work. The lock click on the other side, and Iesha answer with an eye roll. “What you want?”

Man, I don’t wanna deal with her today. “Hey to you too. Is King here?”

Iesha look at me like I’m stupid and motion toward the empty driveway. “Do you see his car anywhere?”

“You know when he’ll be back?”

“Better be soon. He went to get some breakfast, and we hungry.”

“We?” I ask.

She proudly caress her belly. “We found out yesterday that I’m expecting. It really is King’s baby this time.”

One: Goddamn, what the hell in the water around here?

Two: She barely around for the baby she got.

Three: “You tryna replace Seven since he ain’t King’s?”

The goofy grin disappear off Iesha’s face. “Screw you, Maverick! Ain’t nobody tryna replace him.”

“It sure look that way.”

“Shut up! You don’t have room to talk. You knocked up your li’l bougie girlfriend. You tryna replace Seven since he ain’t hers?”

“Nah, that just happened.”

“This did too! I may not have been around Seven for months, but don’t ever say I don’t love my son.”

“A’ight, a’ight. My bad. I’m sorry.”

She point her long fingernail in my face. “You should be. You better start letting me see him more. Them li’l Sunday visits won’t cut it.”

I wipe my face. I didn’t come over here for this. “A’ight, we’ll work something out. Give me a few days.”

“Fine. Don’t take forever,” Iesha says as King’s car turn into the driveway. She whirl around and stomp in the house, talking ’bout, “Oooh, I can’t stand him!”

My life, man. I gotta deal with this girl for at least the next eighteen years.

Now here come this foul fool. King come up the walkway, holding a couple of McDonald’s bags. “What’s good, Mav?”

I stuff my hands in my pockets. I ain’t forgot what he pulled on Thanksgiving. “My stash at home low, and I wanna put in some work.”

“Cool, I got you,” he says, and I follow him inside. King only got a TV, couch, PlayStation, and stereo system in his living room. He don’t even have curtains. He hung sheets and blankets from the Dollar Store on the windows. “Yo! I got the food,” he calls out to Iesha.

She come and snatch a bag. “Thank. You!” she says, and go back to the bedroom.

King sit on the couch, shaking his head. “Females. You came at a good time, homie. I cooked up some rocks last night. According to one of my regulars, it’s outta this woooorld.” He laughs. “It had him so gone.”

“Cool. I’ll take whatever.”

King tilt his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Give me some product, and I can bounce.”

“What is your goddamn problem lately?” King asks. “Don’t tell me you still mad that I moved Iesha in. That was months ago! She ain’t your girl, why you mad?”

“’Cause you ain’t tell me where she was, and you knew I was struggling with my son!”

“I ain’t know you was still looking for her!” he says.

“Just give me some product, King. I’m not in the mood, a’ight?”

“That’s why I asked what’s wrong, fool! It’s obvious you upset.” He sit forward. “Seriously, Mav. I’m your boy. Talk to me.”

I hold the back of my neck. This school stuff and this Red situation on my mind heavy, and fact is I ain’t got nobody to talk to. Lisa not an option; she don’t need the stress. Mr. Wyatt not; Ma definitely not. I could talk to Dre’s grave, but I’d never get a response.

King all I got left.

I sigh. A’ight, maybe I am tripping over the Iesha stuff. It ain’t that big of a deal, I guess. Plus King right, that was months ago.

I may as well talk to him. “I found out I can’t graduate. They want me to repeat the twelfth grade.”