Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(82)

“For real?”

“Yeah. I know that the pay is nothing compared to what your li’l friends make out in the streets—”

“Fast money lead to a fast end.”

Mr. Wyatt raise his eyebrows. “You really have been listening. I thought it all went in one side of that big head and out the other.”

“Dang, Mr. Wyatt. You ain’t gotta diss me.”

“A little early-morning humor never hurt nobody. You can start full-time after you graduate. What do you say?”

I hold the back of my neck. “Um . . . I’m not graduating, Mr. Wyatt. I kinda flunked out.”

“What is flunked out?” he says. “Do you mean you dropped out?”

“Yeah. The other week, I found out I was flunking all my classes and would have to repeat the twelfth grade. That won’t work, so I stopped going to school.”

“I see,” he says. “Does Faye know?”

“No, sir, not yet,” I say, and he real quiet. “But I’m gon’ get my GED,” I add quickly. “The school counselor said they got classes downtown. I just gotta sign up for them.”

Ay, I told Seven I won’t let him down. Getting my GED is the first step.

“I see,” Mr. Wyatt says again, and I don’t know if he disappointed or what. He take a deep breath. “I tell you what. You go downtown this morning, sign up for those classes, then come to the store to start as a full-time employee.”

My eyes widen. “The job still mine?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he says. “I’m not the one you need to worry about. That title belongs to Faye.”

True.

He pat my shoulder. “Go do what you need to do, son. I expect you to come straight to work afterward. Don’t be—”

“Lollygagging around,” I finish for him. “Yes, sir, I know.”

“Since you’re listening so well, I oughta start reciting scripture so you can repeat that.”

Aw, damn. “Let’s stick with the work stuff for now, Mr. Wyatt.”

He chuckles. “That’s what you think. I ain’t done with you yet, boy,” he says, and climb his back steps.

I finally told Ma the truth about school.

Was she pissed? Hell yeah.

Did she go off on me? Fa’sho.

Did my lies make it worse? Oh yeah.

Am I glad Moe was there as a witness? You damn right. She probably saved my life.

Once I swore to Ma that I’d get my GED, she calmed down a little. She marched outta the house to work and barely said two words to me. I deserve it.

I get dressed to go downtown. Seven in his playpen in the living room, babbling to the Teletubbies on the TV. I don’t understand why li’l kids love them creepy-looking things.

The phone ring throughout the house. I grab the cordless off my nightstand. “Hello?”

“Hello!” the automated voice says. “You have a collect call from—”

“Adonis.”

I accept the charges. “Pops?”

“Mav Man?” he says. “I wasn’t sure anybody would be home. I got some calling time and figured I’d try. You . . . you good?”

That’s his way of asking if I went through with my plan.

“I’m good, Pops,” I say. “Nothing going on; nothing went on.”

He let out a deep breath. “Good.”

I sit on the side of my bed. “Hard for me to say that. I almost feel like I let the family down.”

“Nah, man. The family needs you,” he says. “I’m stuck here; Dre gone. You gotta stay around, you feel me? By any means.”

“I know,” I mumble as I pick at a thread on my comforter. That’s my main goal. It’s not really the kind Mr. Wyatt told me to have, but yeah. Thing is, I don’t see how I can accomplish that long as I’m a King Lord. “I think I want out the set, Pops.”

The line fall silent.

“That’s nothing against you or Dre or none of y’all,” I say. “I know this part of our blood. But this not the life—I don’t want my kids to—”

“Hey, hey. You don’t owe me an explanation,” he says. “Like I told you the other day, you’re becoming your own man. You don’t need my permission or approval.”

“Yes, sir.”

Pops take another deep breath. “On some real shit, son? There’s a lot of grown men in the game who don’t wanna be in it. They don’t have the guts to admit it like you do. They too caught up or too scared of what people will think. They end up accepting that they stuck.”

For a second, it sound like he describing himself.

“For you to admit that you want out? It means you’re thinking for yourself, like a man should,” he says. “They oughta start calling you Big Mav instead of Li’l Don.”

“Quit playing.” I laugh, as he do. “I’ll always be Li’l Don around here.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Pops says. “Do what you need to do, son. I love you. Regardless.”

I smile. “I love you too, Pops.”

Signing up for GED classes wasn’t too bad. The lady at the school district office already had my info courtesy of Mr. Clayton. She put me in the class for “young people, nineteen and under.” Said it would be good for me to be with other kids.