Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(9)
“Nah, I didn’t mean that!” I say.
“Yeah, you did. I bet it was King, wasn’t it? Yeah, he seem like the type to go rogue.”
Shit, shit, shit. “Dre, I can’t—”
“I won’t rat you out to Shawn,” he says. “You claim you a man, prove it. Men own up to their shit. Own up to yours.”
Damn, he had to put it like that. I gotta admit I felt real bad hiding this from Dre. He the big brother I never had. We never keep secrets from each other. And even if I don’t admit it, he gon’ find a way to get the truth. That could be real bad for King.
I set my son back in his car seat as he fade off to sleep. I can’t let my homeboy get in trouble. I gotta take this one for the team.
“A’ight, yeah,” I say. “I been selling other drugs on the side. Nobody helping. I found a way to get it myself.”
Dre sighs. “What the hell, Mav?”
“I wanna make money! You and Shawn wouldn’t let me sell nothing but weed.”
“’Cause we looking out for you and the li’l homies. Selling that other shit is dangerous in more ways than one. You don’t need to be doing that.”
I just look at him. “Fool, you do it!” For real, he got some nerve lecturing me.
“I’m smart with mine, unlike you,” Dre says. “You probably careless enough to lead the cops right to you. You honestly need to leave this dealing shit alone, period. Weed, rocks, pills, powder, whatever. Let it all go.”
“What? See, now you tripping.”
“I’m serious, Mav. You got a son to think about now—”
“You got a daughter.”
“Yeah, and I want you to learn from my mistakes and be a better father than me,” Dre says. “I hate that this how I gotta provide for Andreanna, but I’m too caught up to get out. You not.” He poke my chest. “We could get you a regular job like Wal-Mart or Mickey D’s—”
“That ain’t no kinda money!”
“It’s clean money,” Dre says. “I can talk to Shawn ’bout letting you out the set, too.”
“Oh, you tripping for real,” I say. “Shawn can’t just ‘let me out.’ You know that. You saw what happened to Kenny.”
Kenny is this King Lord who once played football for Garden High. He got a full scholarship offer to one of them big universities and decided he wanted out. Guess he didn’t want the school discovering his gang ties. There’s only a few ways to get out the King Lords—you either put in some major work like taking a charge for somebody, or you get jumped out. Kenny got jumped. The big homies beat him so bad he ended up in a coma. When he woke up, he was too banged up to take that football scholarship anyway. Getting out ain’t worth it.
“Maybe we could figure out a different way for you,” Dre says.
I shake my head. “Quit lying to yourself, man. Why should I get out anyway? Kinging in our blood, remember?”
“You could break the cycle,” Dre says. “Be better than me, Unc, all of us. Do things the right way.”
“Yeah, that’s easy to say when you driving around in a Beamer,” I say. “You a hypocrite, dawg. You also a damn fool if you think I’m walking away from this money, especially now that I got a kid.”
“It’s like that? A’ight,” Dre says, nodding. “Either you give it up or I tell Auntie and Uncle Don.”
“Then you’d have to admit to them that you let me sell weed.”
“I’m willing to own up to mine like a man. I’ll also tell Shawn what King doing.”
“I told you, King not involved.”
“Yeah right,” Dre says. “This got his name all on it. You don’t have to admit it. Me and Shawn will look into it and handle him ourselves.”
“You said you wouldn’t bring Shawn in this!”
“No, I said I wouldn’t rat you out to him. I didn’t say I wouldn’t rat out King. So what’s it gon’ be, cuz? Let drug dealing go completely or let you and your boy both get in trouble?”
“This blackmail!”
“It’s your choice to see it that way,” Dre says.
“It is that way! How I know you still won’t rat King out?” I ask.
“I trust you to talk to him and remind him of the consequences that come with doing shit like this,” Dre says. “I promise if I think you back at it, I’m snitching on him and you.”
“Dre, c’mon. Please?”
“This on you, Mav. Your call.”
I fold my hands on top of my head. Goddamn! This ’bout the worst way this could go. I wanna keep making money, but I don’t wanna get in trouble with my folks. I don’t want King to get hurt either.
I ain’t got much of a choice. “A’ight,” I say. “I’ll stop selling drugs.”
Do Dre tell me he proud of my decision? Do he give me props for looking out for my boy? Nah, he sit back on the couch and go, “That’s what I thought. Now go get me a soda. I’m thirsty from dealing with your li’l hardheaded behind.”
Four
I finally got Iesha on the phone Saturday night.
“I need a break, Maverick,” she said, and her voice was real rough. “I been crying all the time, and my head get in these real dark places. He don’t need to be around me.”