Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(69)

“That’s why he don’t want you hanging with Moe?” I ask.

“Right.”

The kitchen get real quiet.

I got a million thoughts in my head. Hard to pin down one. “You always been like this?”

“Have you always liked girls?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you’ve got your answer,” Ma says.

“Do Pops know?”

“Yes, I told your father early on in our relationship that I was bisexual. He accepted it.”

“Oh.”

Lisa said I needed to pay attention. I guess she figured it out way before me. Now that I really think on it, Ma and Moe do go out a lot, and Ma always happier after she been with Moe. Her face light up when that woman come around. At Dre’s repast, Moe held Ma’s hand whenever they were close, and I thought it was just for support.

It was in my face the whole time.

I look at Ma. “Do you love her?”

Ma’s eyes get that sparkle I’ve seen before. “I do. In fact, we’ve discussed her possibly moving in one day. Not without me talking to you first, of course, but yeah. It’s come up.”

“Oh.” They serious then. “Do you love Pops?”

“I do,” she says. “I’ll always love Adonis, and I’ll always be there for him. I also have to love myself. All of that ‘ride or die’ stuff, it’s nice until you feel like you’re dying from not living. Adonis made choices that put his life at a standstill. He didn’t have to sell drugs; he chose to. I shouldn’t have to put my life on hold because of his decisions.”

I shift in my seat, thinking of my own decisions.

Ma look up at the ceiling, blinking real fast. “I’ve wanted to tell you for years. But I—I wasn’t sure you’d—”

The crack in her voice do me in. I hop up and hug her in her chair. “Ma, it’s okay.”

She wrap her arms around me just as tight. It’s almost like I’m holding a sobbing little girl. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“You ain’t gotta apologize. Are you happy?”

“I am,” she says. “Happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

I kiss her hair. “That’s all I care ’bout. Promise.”

I don’t know how long we stay like this. I’ll hold Ma long as she need me to.

But there’s a twinge in my chest for Pops. I hadn’t thought that his life was at a “standstill” until Ma said it was. He went away almost a decade ago. I was a scrawny eight-year-old. Now I’m almost grown with two kids. We out here living our lives while he stuck in prison, hoping we’ll visit.

Or at least talk to him when he call.

I did him real wrong.

Ma pull away, wiping her eyes. “You smell like baby food.”

I crack a smile. “Blame your grandson. He spit his dinner in my face.” I kiss her forehead. “I’ll heat you up some food.”

I go to the cabinet and grab a plate. I’m happy that Ma happy. For real, I am. Considering all the stuff she put up with from me and Pops, she deserve it more than anybody.

She should also have her moment without me breaking her heart.





Twenty-Four


I lie to Ma for the rest of the week. She think I go to school every day. Really, I drop Seven off with Mrs. Wyatt, and I watch Red from afar.

I know his schedule like I know my name. He start his mornings at his spot in the Cedar Lane parking lot. Around noon, he get lunch from somewhere around the neighborhood, then head to Rose Park to set up shop. I pick up Lisa and go to work. By the time I get off, he packing up his things in the park.

I’m almost addicted to watching that fool, like I’m scared he’ll disappear before I get my chance. I hate that I won’t be able to keep an eye on him today. I’m taking Lisa on her surprise tour of the Markham campus. It’s a two-hour drive one way. Ma letting me use her car, but not without a lecture first.

“Bring my tank back on full. I’m not playing, Maverick,” she says. “Put premium gas in it. I don’t want that regular shit—stuff. Got me cussing in front of the baby.”

I smirk as I pack snacks at the kitchen table. Seven drink his morning bottle in his high chair. I took today off from work, and Ma agreed to watch him for me. I’ll have him all day tomorrow while she spend Valentine’s with Moe.

“While we’re on the subject of gas, do you need money for it?” Ma asks.

“No, ma’am.” I haven’t needed money from her since I started slinging. That’s life-changing damn near.

“Okay, good. Wear your seat belt at all times and use the signal lights when you switch lanes. The left lane is for passing, the right is for slower traffic. Stay in the right as much as possible, and don’t go over the speed limit.”

I look at her. “Says the part-time NASCAR driver.”

“Who isn’t a Black boy, driving down the highway,” she says. “Don’t give the police a reason to pull you over. If they do—”

“Keep my hands visible, don’t make no sudden moves, and only speak when they speak to me.” I know the talk by heart. Ma and Pops drilled it into my head since I was seven.

“Exactly,” Ma says. She watch me pack snacks. “Are you okay, baby?”