The Hate U Give(87)

“Yeah, about a week ago. They at my cousin’s house. She live in like the middle of nowhere. Mom’s been a mess ’cause she didn’t know if I was okay. She apologized for leaving me and for being mad. She want me to come stay with them.”

Kenya frowns. “You leaving?”

“I don’t know. Mr. Carlos and Mrs. Pam said I can stay with them for my senior year. My momma said she’d be okay with that, if it means I stay outta trouble.” He examines his handiwork. The doll has a perfect French braid. “I gotta think about it. I kinda like it out here.”

Salt-N-Pepa’s “Push It” blasts from the speakers. That’s one song Daddy shouldn’t play. The only thing worse would be that old song “Back That Thang Up.” Momma loses her damn mind when it comes on. Really, just say, “Cash Money Records, takin’ over for the ’99 and the 2000,” and she suddenly becomes ratchet as hell.

She and Aunt Pam both go, “Heeey!” to Salt-N-Pepa and do all these old dance moves. I like nineties shows and movies, but I do not wanna see my mom and auntie reenact that decade in dance. Seven and his friends circle around them and cheer them on.

Seven’s the loudest. “Go, Ma! Go, Aunt Pam!”

Daddy jumps in the middle of the circle behind Momma. He puts both hands behind his head and moves his hips in a circle.

Seven pushes Daddy away from Momma, going, “Nooo! Stooop!” Daddy gets around him, and dances behind Momma.

“Uh-uh,” Kenya laughs. “That’s too much.”

DeVante watches them with a smile. “You were right about your aunt and uncle, Starr. They ain’t too bad. Your grandma kinda cool too.”

“Who? I know you don’t mean Nana.”

“Yeah, her. She found out I play spades. The other day, she took me to a game after she finished tutoring me. She called it extra-credit work. We been cool ever since.”

Figures.

Chris and Maya walk through the gate, and my stomach gets all jittery. I should be used to my two worlds colliding, but I never know which Starr I should be. I can use some slang, but not too much slang, some attitude, but not too much attitude, so I’m not a “sassy black girl.” I have to watch what I say and how I say it, but I can’t sound “white.”

Shit is exhausting.

Chris and his new “bro” DeVante slap palms, then Chris kisses my cheek. Maya and I do our handshake. DeVante nods at her. They met a few weeks ago.

Maya sits beside me on the lounger. Chris squeezes his big butt between us, pushing both of us aside a little.

Maya flashes him a stink eye. “Seriously, Chris?”

“Hey, she’s my girlfriend. I get to sit next to her.”

“Um, no? Besties before testes.”

Kenya and I snicker, and DeVante goes, “Damn.”

The jitters ease up a bit.

“So you’re Chris?” Kenya says. She’s seen pictures on my Instagram.

“Yep. And you’re Kenya?” He’s seen pictures on my Instagram too.

“The one and only.” Kenya eyes me and mouths, He is fine! Like I didn’t know that already.

Kenya and Maya look at each other. Their paths last crossed almost a year ago at my Sweet Sixteen, if you can consider that path-crossing. Hailey and Maya were at one table, Kenya and Khalil at another table with Seven. They never talked.

“Maya, right?” Kenya says.

Maya nods. “The one and only.”

Kenya’s lips curl up. “Your kicks are cute.”

“Thanks,” Maya says, checking them out for herself. Nike Air Max 95s. “They’re supposed to be running shoes. I never run in them.”

“I don’t run in mine neither,” Kenya says. “My brother’s the only person I know who actually runs in them.”

Maya laughs.

Okay. This is good so far. Nothing to worry about.

Until Kenya goes, “So where blondie at?”

Chris snorts. Maya’s eyes widen.

“Kenya, that ain’t—that’s not her name,” I say.

“You knew who I was talking about though, didn’t you?”

“Yep!” Maya says. “She’s probably somewhere licking her wounds after Starr kicked her ass.”

“What?” Kenya shouts. “Starr, you ain’t tell me about that!”

“It was, like, two weeks ago,” I say. “Wasn’t worth talking ’bout. I only hit her.”

“Only hit her?” Maya says. “You Mayweathered her.”

Chris and DeVante laugh.

“Wait, wait,” Kenya says. “What happened?”

So I tell her about it, without really thinking about what I say or how I sound. I just talk. Maya adds to the story, making it sound worse than it was, and Kenya eats it up. We tell her how Seven gave Remy a couple of hits, which has Kenya beaming, talking about, “My brother don’t play.” Like he’s only her brother, but whatever. Maya even tells her about the Thanksgiving cat thing.

“I told Starr we minorities gotta stick together,” Maya says.

“So true,” says Kenya. “White people been sticking together forever.”

“Well . . .” Chris blushes. “This is awkward.”

“You’ll get over it, boo,” I say.