On the Come Up(97)

“And whose fault is it that we haven’t been talking?”

“Um, yours,” he says.

My mouth drops. “How?”

“Bri, c’mon, you gotta know why I was pissed at you. The night of the robbery, you were more concerned about that chain than about me, your friend who got a black eye. I was supposed to be cool with that? Then you basically asked me to lie to my mom so you and Pooh could do some dirt.”

Okay, yeah. He has a point. “I just wanted the chain back, Malik. It was my family’s safety net. I figured we could pawn it if things got worse.”

“See, that’s the problem. Lately, you only care about money. Money isn’t everything, Bri.”

“That’s so easy for you to say. I know your mom works hard and that y’all aren’t rich, but you’ve got it better than me. We didn’t have lights for a while, Malik. We’ve barely had food some days. You aren’t worried about stuff like that. I am. My freaking shoes fell apart, bruh. You’re standing here in Jordans.”

He glances down at his kicks and bites his lip. “Yeah. I guess I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” I say. “It’s okay that you don’t. I’m glad you don’t. But I need you to try to.”

“It’s been rough, huh?”

I swallow. “Real.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you,” he says. “I’m also sorry for making a move on you. It was foul, for a lot of reasons.”

I nod. “It was.”

“Wow, no ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, Malik’?”

“Hell no. It was a fuckboy move.”

“Typical Bri.” Malik stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Things are so different than they used to be. We’re different. Hard to figure all of this out sometimes, you know? But do you think we can figure out how to be different and still be friends?”

I’d like to say that ten, twenty, thirty years from now, me, Sonny, and Malik will be as tight as we’ve always been, but that could be a lie. We’re changing in different ways, and we’ll keep changing.

Yet I’d like to think that we care enough to get to know whoever we become. Hey, maybe someday Malik and I will have something beyond friendship. Right now, I simply want my friend back.

“Yeah,” I tell him. “I think we can still be friends.”

He smiles. “Good. Because when you get that Grammy, I expect to get a shout-out along with an invitation to all of the after-parties.”

I roll my eyes. “Opportunist.”

He hooks his arm around my neck. “Nah. Just one of your biggest cheerleaders.”

Sonny and Miles make their way over to us. They’re so close that their hands brush.

“Guys, this is Miles, without a z,” Sonny says. “Miles, this is Malik and Bri, my best friends slash potential bodyguards. You’ve met Bri though.”

“Yeah, when you said that bullshit about her dad in the Ring,” Malik points out.

Oh, we’re definitely good again, because here Malik is, going in on somebody on my behalf. I missed having him in my corner.

Miles shifts his weight from foot to foot. “My bad. I apologized to Bri, if that helps. I was only saying what my dad wanted me to say.”

Sonny cocks his eyebrows. “Your dad wanted you to be an asshole?”

“Basically. It’s part of who Milez with a z is. But that’s his creation. It’s not me.”

Not surprised. Supreme seems to be all about creating people. “Does he know you’re—”

“Gay? Yeah. He knows. He chooses to ignore it.”

Malik tilts his head, and, because he’s Malik, he goes for it. “Your dad makes you pretend to be straight?”

“Malik!” I hiss. Good lord. “You can’t ask people stuff like that!”

“Why not? He hinted at it!”

“That wasn’t a hint. He does make me pretend to be straight,” Miles says. “Milez with a z is supposed to be the teen heartthrob all the girls love, and one of Dad’s next cash cows.”

He looks at me as he says it. I’m the other one.

“Nobody can know that Miles with an s hates rapping, prefers photography, and is completely, one hundred percent gay.”

“Why’d you show up here then?” Sonny asks him.

Miles twists his foot behind him. “Because. For once, I decided to do what I wanna do. I wanted to finally meet the guy who keeps me up every night, talking about everything and nothing, who makes me smile a hell of a lot, even though I didn’t know how cute he was until now.”

Sonny blushes so hard. “Oh.”

“I’m done being who my dad wants me to be,” Miles says. “It’s not worth it.”

Does he mean what I think he means? “You’re giving up your rap career?”

Miles slowly nods. “Yeah. I am. Besides, is it really mine if I’m not being myself?”





Thirty-Three


I’m still thinking about what Miles said yesterday when we arrive at Christ Temple.

I guess the prospect of a job gave my mom the courage to come today and face the gossip. This is the first Sunday we’ve been here in a while, and the only thing church folks love more than talking about people is talking about people who haven’t been to church.