Home > Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give #0)(17)

Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give #0)(17)
Author: Angie Thomas

“Yep.”

“Damn. They sound real nice.”

“Fa’sho.”

These short answers, the sudden vibe in the car . . . this not us at all. We were cool till I mentioned my son. “We good, man? If the baby stuff bothers you—”

“Goddamn, Mav! How many times I gotta tell you it’s all good? Trust me, I’m glad I don’t gotta change diapers no more.” He laughs. “How Li’l King doing anyway?”

“He fine except he won’t let me rest. I’m tryna figure out a new name for him.”

King look over at me. “What for?”

“You really gotta ask? It don’t make sense for him to have your name when he my son.”

“I’m your boy. He can be named after me.”

“C’mon, man. Considering the situation, don’t you think that would be weird?”

King don’t respond.

I sigh. “I don’t mean nothing by it—”

“He your kid now, Mav. Do whatever you want,” King says as his beeper go off. He take it out and peek at it. “White Boy Aaron want me to hit him up.”

White Boy Aaron is this stoner kid who go to Saint Mary’s Catholic School. King met him once at a football game, and now he one of King’s regulars. When it comes to making money in this drug shit, rich white kids are where it’s at.

Only one thing on my mind now: Lisa. That’s her school. I could holla at her real quick. What do I say? I’m sorry? A million of them mugs wouldn’t be enough.

I gotta try, even if it take a million and one apologies. She worth them all.

Saint Mary’s is downtown, and a bunch of students in uniforms crowd the sidewalks as they head for the restaurants nearby. Saint Mary’s let them leave campus for lunch. Garden High ever do that, half of us might not come back.

King turn into the school parking lot and pull into a spot near the back. I open my door. “Ay, I’m gon’ go look for Lisa.”

“What? I don’t got time for that, Mav.”

“Give me ten minutes, King. That’s it. I won’t go far, I swear.”

King stare at something across the parking lot. “You definitely won’t. Ain’t that your girl right there?”

I follow his eyes. Lisa lean against a car, talking to a blond-haired white boy. He all up on her and got her giggling.

Hold on. I been to’e up, listening to Boyz II Men all day every day, and here she is smiling in some white boy’s face?

I go straight over there. “Ay!”

They both look up. “Oh my God,” Lisa groans. “What the hell are you doing, Maverick?”

That’s what I wanna ask her. But that’s a sure way to get cussed out. “We need to talk.”

“Talk? There’s nothing to talk about. Don’t you have a son to take care of?”

“Wait, this is the asshole who had a baby with another girl?” the blond boy asks.

First off, who the hell is he? Second, why she telling him my business? Third, who the fuck he think he talking to? I step toward him. “Who you calling a asshole?”

He ball his fists like he wanna square up. Man, I’ll beat the mess outta this fool.

Lisa put a hand on his chest. “Connor, it’s okay. I can handle this.”

Connor? She went from me to a white boy named Connor? What kinda plain-ass name is that?

“Long as you’re sure,” Connor says to her while eyeing me. He leave us alone.

Lisa turn to me, and her stank eye is lethal. “Go home, Maverick.”

“Nah, man! What you doing all up on him? We just broke up.”

“Oh, don’t even! At least I haven’t slept with him and made a baby because I’m stressed.”

That hit hard. “I’m sorry, Lisa.”

“You’re right, you are sorry,” she says. “A sorry excuse of a boyfriend. And I was stupid to fall in love with you.”

Her voice crack like there’s a sob down in her, tryna get out.

Knowing she wanna cry tear me up inside, but ain’t nothing worse than hearing she regret loving me. “I’m sorry, Lisa. I swear to God I am. Let me fix this.”

“You have a baby with another girl! How do you fix that?”

“I don’t know—”

“Leave, Maverick,” she says.

“Lisa, please? I promise, I—”

“Leave!”

“Hey!” a deep voice yell out. This tall, dark-skinned dude in a security uniform hurry over. He come up, talking ’bout, “Young man, you’re trespassing onto school property.”

I try to catch Lisa’s eyes for a sign that we got a shot. Something, anything.

She won’t look at me.

“Fine,” I say to her more than the guard. “I’m gone.”

I walk away from her, and it honestly feel like I’m walking away from us.

King drive us back to the Garden.

Lisa really done with me. It used to trip me out that a girl like her had feelings for me. Now here I go, doing something stupid and losing her.

“Chin up, Mav,” King says. “Don’t be letting no female get you like this.”

I straighten up. “I’m good. It is what it is.”

“No doubt. Keep it moving. Don’t give her another thought.”

That would be easy if she wasn’t the main thing in my head.

We cruise down Magnolia Ave. There’s a couple of cars at the old Cedar Lane shopping center. There used to be a grocery store there, but it shut down years ago. Today there’s tables set up in the parking lot with clothes, electronics, CDs, and tapes on them. The trunk of an Impala is opened up, revealing even more stuff for sale.

That’s Red, the hustler who gave me these booty-crack Jordans.

“Turn around,” I tell King.

“What for?”

“I gotta talk to Red. He gave me some fake sneakers in exchange for some of my video games.”

“What?” King says. “Aww hell nah. He need to give you your stuff back.”

“He better or we gon’ have a problem.”

King turn into the shopping center parking lot. “Holla at me if you need me. You know I’m always down for whatever.”

That’s one reason he my boy. “’Preciate it, but I got this.”

I hop out the car. Red smile all in this one lady’s face as he show her a purse. Bet it’s fake. He probably using some weak pickup line to convince her it’s real. Red one of them dudes who claim he “pretty” ’cause he got light skin with green eyes and wavy hair. The girls at Garden High love that. Red don’t go there; he around twenty-four, twenty-five. He the type that hang around the school and pick up young girls.

“Red!” I call as I cross the parking lot. “Let me holla at you!”

Don’t think I miss that “Shit” he hiss. He force a smile, flashing that one gold tooth he got in the front. “Mav! My main man. You good?”

“Hell nah! You gave me some fake Jordans.”

That lady he was talking to go, “Fake? Oh, hell no,” and walk off.

“Wait, baby! This a misunderstanding,” Red call after her. He turn to me and stomp his foot. “Maverick! That ain’t the kinda shit you announce! You tryna ruin me?”

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