On the Come Up(96)

After an eternity she says, “Thank you so much, sir. I will see you next week.”

My eyes widen. The moment she hangs up, I’m like, “You got the job?”

“An interview. But it’s an interview with a background check and fingerprints.”

I’m missing something here. “What’s so good about that?”

“It means that they are seriously considering hiring me,” she says.

“So you . . .” This feels so surreal that it’s hard to speak. “You may have a job?”

“Nothing’s guaranteed, but based on what Dr. Cook just said”—she smiles—“I may have a job.”





Thirty-Two


Saturday morning, I get a weird text from Sonny.

Meet me at Oak Park ASAP.

Oak Park is a couple of blocks away from my grandparents’ house. Trey used to take me there almost every weekend when I was younger. It’s where I saw Jay strung out that time.

It’s also where Sonny spray-painted his rainbow fist piece.

It’s on the side of the restrooms near the empty community pool. Granddaddy says the city used to open it up every summer. They’ve never done that in my lifetime.

I look around twice as I cross the park. I’ve still got the Crowns to think about. I’ve been ducking and hiding any time I spot a gray car in the neighborhood.

Sonny’s and Malik’s bikes are propped up against the back of the restroom wall. Should’ve known Malik would be here, too. Sonny paces in the dirt so much, a small dust tornado is swirling near his feet. Malik says something, but it doesn’t slow Sonny down.

I hop off my bike and walk it over to them. “Hey, what’s up?”

“He’s on his way,” Sonny says.

“Who?”

“Rapid! Why else would I have y’all meet me here?”

“Oh. I thought you needed my help hiding a body or something.”

Sonny’s lips thin. “And I’m the disturbing one?”

Malik glances at his phone. “What time did he say he’d be here?”

Sonny takes a peek at his phone, too. “Ten on the dot. He told me to look out for a black Benz.”

“Damn, a Benz?” I say. “At sixteen? Somebody’s got mon-ey.” I rub my fingers together.

“Or he’s really a fifty-year-old man,” Malik just has to add.

The horror that appears on Sonny’s face. “Not funny!”

Malik and I snicker. This is the closest we’ve come to speaking to each other in a while.

“My bad, my bad,” Malik says, and takes Sonny’s shoulder. “Look, Son’, this is gonna work out, all right? You gotta believe that. If this guy isn’t who he says he is, it’s his loss. Not yours. Okay?”

Sonny slowly exhales. “Okay.”

“Good.” Malik straightens out Sonny’s collar. He wore one of his nice polo shirts today. I run my fingers along his curls to fix them. “No matter what happens, we’re here,” Malik reminds him.

“One hundred percent,” I add.

Sonny smiles. “I’m glad y’all came—”

A black Mercedes turns into the parking lot.

“Take y’all asses and hide!” Sonny switches on us with the quickness.

I look him up and down. “Excuse you?”

“Hide!” He turns us both toward a tree. “I don’t want him knowing I didn’t trust him enough to not bring backup.”

“But you didn’t trust him enough,” Malik says.

“Not the point! Go!”

We stumble behind a large oak tree that’s big enough to hide us both. A car door closes. I peer around the tree trunk.

A brown-skinned boy crosses the park. His short hair has zigzags cut into it, and a cross pendant dangles from his neck.

It’s Miles. Supreme’s son-the-rapper-with-that-annoying-song Miles. “Holy shit,” I mutter.

“Holy shit,” Malik echoes me.

I can see the “Holy shit” all over Sonny’s face, too. Miles holds the back of his neck and looks at Sonny sheepishly.

“I definitely wasn’t expecting this,” Malik says.

I guess he’s talking to me again. “Yeah. Me either.”

“What do you think they’re saying?”

I tilt my head. Sonny’s eyes are super wide. Like a cartoon’s. I smirk. I don’t know what Sonny’s saying, but he’s definitely thinking, “What the hell?”

“Ha! Probably right.” Malik says in his best Sonny voice, “‘Have I really been talking to a guy who thinks swagerific is a word?’”

I laugh. “‘Am I gonna have to tell him that I hate his song?’” My imitation of Sonny is not as good as Malik’s, but it makes him chuckle. “I don’t know if this is gonna go well.”

Or maybe it will. They’re smiling as they look into each other’s eyes.

“Oh, wow,” says Malik.

“I still got hands ready though if Miles hurts him somehow,” I say.

“For real,” Malik agrees. “I’ve missed you, Breezy.”

I turn around.

“As a friend,” he clarifies. “I miss talking to you.”