by Angie Thomas
I stare at the boots. “Yep. He bought me these Timbs.”
“Wait, those aren’t the boots I bought you from the swap meet?”
“No. Those came apart.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I fumble with my fingers. “Because I didn’t want you to feel bad. Like you probably do right now.”
She sighs. “Lord. You should’ve told me, Bri. You should’ve told me all of this. I could’ve kept you out of so much mess. Instead, you lied to me.”
“Wait, I didn’t lie.”
“Omitting the truth is lying, Bri,” she says. “Plus, at some point, you flat-out lied. You’ve been sneaking around to meet with Supreme. That requires a lie.”
Damn, she’s right. “I’m sorry.”
Jay kisses her teeth. “Oh, I’m sure you are. Especially since this is about to come to a halt. All of this li’l rap stuff of yours? It’s over.”
“What? No! This could be my shot at making it.”
“Didn’t you just say that people are making assumptions about you?” she asks. “You wanna keep going, knowing that?”
“I just wanna make it!”
I’m loud, I’m rough. But I’m also desperate.
Feels like hours pass as my mom quietly stares at me.
“Brianna,” she says, “do you know what your aunt’s biggest problem is?”
I look at the jailhouse. That’s kinda obvious at the moment. “She’s locked up.”
“No. That’s not even her biggest problem,” says Jay. “Pooh doesn’t know who she is, and by not knowing who she is, she doesn’t know her worth. So, who are you?”
“What?”
“Who are you?” she repeats. “Of the millions and billions of people in the world, you’re the only person who can answer that. Not people online or at your school. I can’t even answer that. I can say who I think you are.” She cups my cheek. “And I think you’re brilliant, talented, courageous, beautiful. You’re my miracle. But you’re the only one who can say who you are with authority. So, who are you?”
“I’m . . .”
I can’t find the words.
My mom leans over and kisses my forehead. “Work on figuring it out. I think it’ll give you more answers than you realize.”
She cranks up the Jeep. Before she can back out of the parking spot, her phone rings.
“Baby, get that for me, please?”
“Okay,” I say, and fish through her purse. It takes a second—my mom keeps her purse full of “just in case” stuff, like Kleenex, gum, a pocketknife. She’s ready for whatever.
I grab her phone, but I don’t recognize the number. “I don’t know who this is.”
“Answer it like you’ve got some sense then.”
I roll my eyes. I know what she means—talk all “proper,” but damn, act “like I have some sense” makes it seem as if I have none. “Hello?”
“Hi. Is Mrs. Jayda Jackson available?” a man asks.
That voice is familiar. I think. It could be a bill collector for all I know, and they always get the dial tone. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“Yes, this is Superintendent Cook.”
The phone falls from my hand.
“Brianna!” Jay scolds through her teeth. “I know damn well you didn’t drop my phone! Give it here!”
I scoop it up from the floor.
She snatches it. “Hello? Who is this?”
Dr. Cook responds, and the car slightly swerves. She almost dropped the phone, too.
“I’m so sorry, Dr. Cook,” Jay says, and cuts me a glare. “My daughter can be reckless.”
Why she gotta throw me under the bus though?
Dr. Cook starts talking, and my mom pulls over to the side of the road. I can’t make out what he’s saying for the life of me. Jay just goes, “Uh-huh, yes, sir,” over and over again.
“Well?” I whisper, but she swats in my direction to shut me up.
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.”
“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.
Whatever.
Trey holds Kayla’s hand as he follows me and Jay across the gravel parking lot next to the church. Earlier, he introduced Kayla to Jay as his girlfriend. They must be pretty serious if he invited her to church: church-where-everybody-is-gonna-talk-about-him-bringing-a-girl-to-church. That’s major.
Seems like half the congregation fills the foyer. Jay wears a bigger smile than usual as we make our rounds, greeting folks. It’s an unspoken rule that when you’ve been gone, you have to speak to everybody. Well, my mom and my brother do. I stand here, trying to keep my facial expressions in check.
Pastor Eldridge’s wife hugs us and says that we’ve been gone so long, she almost forgot what we look like. I only side-eye her a little bit. Sister Barnes tries me though. Jay tells her good morning, and Sister Barnes responds with, “Y’all been too busy for the Lord?”
I open my mouth, but before I can tell her to kiss our asses, Jay moves close to me. So close that nobody notices how hard she pinches my arm.
“Brianna, why don’t you go have a seat,” she tells me, which is mom-at-church speak for “Girl, you better go somewhere before I whoop your behind.”
I’d much rather sit in the corner anyway. I plop down in one of the high-back chairs under the portrait of Pastor Eldridge. On one hand, I don’t get why my mom is taking all of this shade from people. But on the other, she must be in a really good headspace if she’s willing to take it.
Sister Daniels comes into the foyer, in a floral dress with a matching hat that’s big enough to block the sun. Curtis holds the door open for her.
I sit up a little. My edges? Laid and slayed. Jay French-braided my hair last night, and I put my silk bonnet on extra tight to keep everything in check. This dress an
d these wedge heels? Super cute. But the way Curtis’s eyes light up when he sees me, I don’t think I needed any of it.
He moves around people and makes his way over to me, giving quick “hellos” and polite nods along the way.
“Hey, Bri,” he says, the smile all on his face and in his voice.
Here I go, cheesing. “Hey.”
Curtis sits on the arm of the chair and checks me out. “I know I ain’t supposed to cuss in church, but damn, girl, you looking kinda fine today.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say. Most Sundays, he shows up in a polo and dress pants. Today, he put on a suit and tie.
Curtis adjusts the tie a bit. “Thanks. I was scared I was gon’ look like I should be giving the sermon. Glad you like it, since I did this for you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Oh, so I’m sexy without it?” Curtis wiggles his eyebrows.
I laugh. “Bye, Curtis.”
“You can’t admit it, don’t be scared,” he says. “So, this date of ours. We never figured out the details. I was thinking we could leave campus one day this week and go somewhere around Midtown for lunch.”
I get this weird feeling that somebody’s watching us. I glance around.
Somebody’s watching all right. My mom and my brother are near the sanctuary door, paying more attention to us than to Pastor Eldridge. They both look amused.
Lord. I can hear them now. Jay’s gonna try to get all in my business, and Trey’s gonna mess with me worse than Sonny.
But you know what? I don’t care. “Lunch sounds good,” I tell Curtis.
“Tomorrow works for you?”
“Yep.”
“First time I’ll actually look forward to a Monday.” Curtis leans over and kisses my cheek, so close to my lips that I almost wish he would’ve kissed them. “Later, Princess.”
I go over to my mom, Trey, and Kayla, and this grin seems stuck on my face.
“Ooooh, Bri got a boyfriend,” Trey teases. “Ooooh!”
“Shut up,” I say. But boyfriend? I wouldn’t say he’s my boyfriend. Yet I wouldn’t have a problem with him having that title.
Jesus, my face is starting to hurt from smiling so hard.