Tyler Johnson Was Here(14)

“My. Gay. God,” Ivy says, watching this girl in a shiny, sparkly dress flip her hair.

I catch G-mo turning his head to the side, scanning her up and down. I punch his arm and he tosses his hands in the air, like he’s surrendering.

Something makes me look behind me, and my eyes zoom into focus on a scene that completely kills all the fluttering feelings in my stomach.

And at the end of the hallway, Johntae has Tyler pinned to the wall. His crew members just watch, like they’re getting off on watching my brother’s pain. Tyler chokes, trying hard to catch his breath and push his weight off the wall.

I run toward them, screaming and hollering for him to let Tyler go. “Fucking let him go, I said!” My voice cracks as I yell, the veins in my head throbbing.

When Johntae catches sight of me, he releases Tyler at once. Gravity pulls Tyler’s body down hard to the floor, and he gasps heavily, taking in huge gulps of oxygen, his own hands wrapped tightly around his throat.

“What’s up, lil homie?” Johntae nods at me, like he didn’t just have my brother in a chokehold against the wall. He goes in to shake up with me, but I brush past him, bending down to check on Tyler.

“Tyler? Are you all right?”

He shakes his head fast and spits on the floor. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Get off me!” He rises from the floor, using the wall to keep his balance. A familiar emptiness and darkness in his eyes.

I step back some more. Tyler and Johntae stare at each other in silence, like they’re about to fight cowboy-style—like those old Western movies Mama used to watch, with the tumbleweeds rolling in the desert.

“I’m sick and tired of the games,” Johntae says to Tyler.

“What games?” Tyler says.

“You know what the fuck I mean. I put loyalty above everything. Don’t fuck with me again.”

I can tell my brother’s scared, that he’s nervous, but he’s pretending to be hard. “For the hundredth time,” Tyler says, biting his lip and clenching his fists, “it was not me, man. I ain’t a snitch.”

“Just know that you’re already in my hand. The only thing I haven’t done yet is close my fist.”

Tyler looks at me and then at Johntae and then walks away into the huge grinding crowd, everyone dancing to a song by Drake.

“Go on in and enjoy all this party has to offer you, lil homie,” Johntae says, blowing his blunted breath all over me, a huge grin stuck on his face, like he and I are estranged cousins.

I push past him, Ivy and G waiting nearby. We walk through the crowd, the three of us. All the people here are like goldfish swimming around in electrically charged water in a giant fishbowl, brushing up against one another with each move as the song switches to some new track by A$AP Rocky.

Tyler is nowhere to be found.

I push through a few sweaty bodies. The floor has a long green carpet littered with ash, empty alcohol bottles, and red Solo cups. There’re screams echoing toward us, coming from the back. It kind of feels like a mini earthquake within these weed-tainted walls, people’s feet shuffling and sneakers squeaking. My stomach flips over and over, and it gets so loud.

I freeze in place, trying to find my way through the stampede of people running toward me. The strobe lights are cut, everything goes dark, and then the emergency lights and sirens blare to life.

Ivy grabs my arm. G-mo grabs on to her. We try to stay together.

And then gunshots are fired.

Pow! Pow! Pop!

Screaming. Screaming. SCREAMING. Man, what the fuck is happening?

I grab for Ivy’s hand and pull her to my side, pressing our bodies down as we duck and crawl to safety. A few more shots ring out, and my instinct is to freak the fuck out. I shouldn’t have come here.

Everything spins and blurs, and it feels like I’m going to faint as people run past me toward the exit doors, screaming.

“I gotta make sure Tyler is okay,” I shout over all the screams.

Ivy and G-mo yell at me not to go, but I have to make sure he’s okay. I squeeze through many sweaty bodies, tripping over debris, ducking and hoping I’m not in the way of bullets. My heart is about to give out and I can’t breathe. I don’t see him. I don’t see him anywhere. I turn around to head back to Ivy and G-mo so we can get the hell out of this place, thinking, Maybe Tyler got out safely. Maybe he’s already outside.

Pow! Pop! This is what I hear. Then, a crash.

Pow! Pop!

The battlefield that was once inside me upon stepping into this place is actually becoming real. I run and shield myself behind a fallen table. In my head, I’m imagining I’m six all over again, hearing my first drive-by.

I crawl away from the dance floor. When I get to safety, G-mo and Ivy are there to help me up. We get outside. I gasp for fresh air, searching the crowd for Tyler.

I don’t see him anywhere. Shit, Tyler, where are you?

The loud sirens of police and then more screaming and rounds of bullets block my thoughts. And we run to our bikes, cutting through the back woods to get to my place.





At home, Tyler is nowhere to be found. G-mo, Ivy, and I check the kitchen, the living room, every bedroom, even the bathroom. Mama’s not home either, but I pull out the phone I share with Tyler and realize she called me a shit-ton of times and sent me a bunch of texts saying that she was going out for drinks with some new friend of hers and just reminding Tyler and me to be safe and that she loves us. I think she’s dating again.