Snitch

  He’d told me that he wanted to graduate, but if he kept this up, he wouldn’t have a chance.

  Well, that was his problem, not mine.

  “Psst. Julia.” The kid sitting across from me pointed at the back door of the classroom.

  Black Chuck was there, waving at me through the glass. I put up my hand to ask for the bathroom pass.

  He was waiting for me around the corner in the stairwell. The air smelled of a recent spliff.

  “What up, Ju? You didn’t call me back.”

  “I didn’t feel like talking.”

  “Heard you and Eric broke up.”

  “I dumped him. Did he tell you that part?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You must’ve figured I’d do that when you jumped him in.”

  “I’ll be straight with you, Julia. That kid is as blue as they come. I didn’t sell him on nothing.”

  “Did you try to talk him out of it, then?”

  “Why would I do that? We need strong guys like him to get our backs.”

  “If you’re so worried about your back, you should get out, not bring more people in.” I shook my head. He wasn’t going to listen to that. “Your crew needed Eric, hunh? What about me? I needed him too.”

  “I’m sure you can get him back if you want.”

  “But I don’t want to date a gang member! You don’t get me, do you? After we’ve been friends so long, you don’t even get me?”

  “You’re wrong, Ju. I do get you. Believe it or not, I didn’t really want Eric to join. But after Scrap met him, I couldn’t do nothing about it. Sure, Eric’s a cool guy. But you and me? We tight. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “You did.” My eyes filled with tears. I sat down on the step beside him. He put his arm around me.

  I wiped my eyes. “If you could just wake up one day, be in another city, with all new people and none of this Crip stuff, would you do it?”

  He didn’t say anything for a long time. I thought maybe he hadn’t heard me, or the question had pissed him off. Then he said, real quiet, “Maybe.”

  “Eric had a chance to start over, and he didn’t take it. Why didn’t he take it?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”

  “I don’t want to talk to him.”

  “That’s up to you. I always pictured you going out with one of those honors guys anyway.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Mad serious. You’re the smartest girl I know. You need a guy who’ll go to college. You’re gonna be a famous poet someday, Julia.”

  “You really think so? But you haven’t even read any of my stuff.”

  “I read some stuff here and there. Remember that poem about your mom?”

  “That was in seventh grade!”

  “Yeah, well, I knew you had it in you. Point is, you can be friends with peeps like me and Eric, but you oughta get yourself a better boyfriend.”

  “Chuck!” a security guard shouted from the top of the stairs. “What are you doing here? You’re on suspension!”

  “Gotta bounce.” Black Chuck jumped up and ran down the hall. The security guard bolted down the stairs and headed after him.

  * * *

  Every night I hoped Eric would call.

  It made no sense. I was the one who dumped him, so why should he call me?

  And what could he possibly say? I changed my mind you were right I asked them to jump me out of the gang can we be together again? Even if he’d changed his mind about joining—even if, somehow, he realized that he’d made a mistake—there was no turning back and he knew it.

  Life went back to “normal.” I wasn’t falling asleep in class anymore because I wasn’t staying up past midnight texting with Eric.

  I wasn’t late for any classes.

  Life was back to normal. Aka boring.

  Love

  A house of cards, stacked so perfectly

  So still

  So fragile

  Cold wind, Reality

  Blows it down

  Rips you apart

  The death of dreams.

  THE NOTE

  Monday, Eric was back in class.

  “Long time, eh?” he said, dark eyes touching my face. “How’s it going?”

  I felt a lump in my throat. He still had an effect on me, damn him. I looked down at my desk. “I’m good. You?”

  “A’ight.”

  A crisp voice said from the front of the classroom, “Eric, come here, please.”

  I couldn’t hear the conversation between Eric and Ms. Ivey, but her nostrils flared, which meant she was pissed. She was obviously telling him that he’d better explain his absences if he was going to have a chance at passing the class.

  Eventually she flicked her wrist for him to go to his seat. Eric shrugged like he didn’t care.

  The class went by way too slow. I could feel the heat of Eric’s stare on my back. Halfway through the class he tried to pass me a note, but I didn’t take it. With my luck, Ms. Ivey would catch me reading it. He might not care about passing the class, but I did.

  When the bell rang, he was the first one out of his seat. He dropped the note on my desk and walked out.

  I picked up my books and left the class, stopping in the hallway to read the note.

  The three words made my heart ache.

  Miss you Divine.

  “What did he mean by that?” I asked Q. We were on the crowded, rank-smelling bus home, hanging on to a pole at the back.

  Q shot a dirty look at some kids who’d bumped her as they squeezed by. “He means he misses you.”

  “You know what I mean. Why bother telling me? He knows I’m not taking him back.”

  “Be ready, Julia. He might try to play you again. Don’t get sucked in.”

  “I won’t.”

  She tapped the metal pole with an acrylic nail. “I think you need to find yourself a rebound.”

  “Got anybody in mind?”

  “Not exactly. But a rebound is easy to find if you’re in the right place. And you will be.” She took a pink flyer out of her jacket pocket and handed it to me.

  It’s Fly Friday at the Lava Lounge.

  Music by DJ Mo Flow.

  Ladies Free. Men $10 B4 midnight, $20 after.

  Shout-Out to All of Brooklyn.

  No flags, no colors.

  “Fly Friday, huh? Sounds good. Who else is going?”

  “The entire football team, honey. The entire football team.”

  CHOICES

  I spent the rest of the week prepping for Fly Friday.

  Tuesday: Went to Kings Plaza to get a new outfit.

  Wednesday: Went to Canal Street after school to get a striped Kate Spade knockoff to match my outfit.

  Thursday: Got a manicure at the Korean place down the block.

  Friday: Got Marlise to blow out my hair. Borrowed Q’s kicks.

  I started doing my makeup half an hour before Q was set to come over. On the bathroom counter was a copy of Elle magazine with step-by-step instructions on how to get the smoky-eye look I’d seen on my favorite celebs. Armed with black eyeliner, I drew a thick line under my eyes, then smudged it with a Q-tip.

  When I was done, I took a step back.

  I looked like a dead prom queen.

  So much for that idea. I cleaned up my eyes and settled on my usual brown eyeliner and mascara.

  My lips were easier to do. I liked the JLo shiny-lipped style. First the liner, then the natural pink lipstick, followed by a few layers of shiny gloss. Perfect.

  After my makeup was done, I put on my new black-and-white cami and black velvet pants.

  Q showed up looking beautiful as usual. Girly stuff came more naturally to her than to me. She had a way of looking elegant 24-7. Tonight the color was orange—earrings, cap, scarf, shirt, shoes, even the embroidery on her jeans. She managed to put hot outfits together without dropping much money because she knew all of the best deals in Flatbush.

  When we arrived at the Lava
Lounge, a doorman frisked us. He was thorough enough that I giggled, but cute enough that I didn’t mind.

  The lounge was packed. At the far end, there were couches and low tables with tea lights. Closer to us was the club part, with a spacious dance floor lined with mirrors. The first sweep of my eyes took in a lot of cute guys. Too bad I kept thinking about one in particular.

  “Girls!” Marie ran up, hugging us. She was rocking her Blood colors, which didn’t impress me. The flyer specifically said: No flags, no colors. By the looks of things, Marie wasn’t the only one.

  “The Bitches here?” Q asked Marie.

  “ ’Course they are. The Niggaz too. I’m gonna get some ass tonight. That’s a promise.”

  “Maybe you can set Julia up with some ass,” Q said. “Non–gang member ass.”

  “I don’t know any of that kind.” Marie looked over her shoulder. “My Bitches are calling me. Are you girls sure you don’t want to join the RLB? I’d love it if we could all be one big group. Julia, don’t you think it would be a great way of getting back at Eric if you joined?”

  Marie just didn’t get it. I shook my head, not bothering to explain.

  Marie went back to her Bitches and we headed to the bar, ordering two cocktails. The cute bartender asked if we were twenty-one. We both said yes. He smiled and served us.

  By the end of our first drink we were on the dance floor breaking out our moves. We saw some girls we knew from school, so we joined them.

  I did a double take when I spotted Eric walk past the dance floor. He was with two Crips from our school, Hex and Rolo.

  “What is he doing here?” Q shouted.

  “I don’t care!”

  We watched the blue crew walk right past a group of RLN. Somebody must have shouted something, because Eric’s head whipped back. For a second, I thought they were going to fight. But Eric and his crew kept walking, thank God.

  “That was close,” I said to Q. “Did you see that?”

  She nodded.

  Determined to forget about him, I focused on my moves. He had no business distracting me when I was trying to have a good time and find a rebound.

  When Nicki Minaj came on, people flooded onto the dance floor. Time to kick it up a notch. We made a circle, Q and me winding it up in the middle. I could feel Eric’s stare all over me. I danced sensually, wanting him to know what he was missing. But I refused to look at him.

  So much for a rebound tonight. With Eric around, how could I think of anybody else?

  On the good side, Q found herself a guy to dance with. I backed off the dance floor and went to the bar for a drink. Ice water, this time. Leaning my elbow on the bar, I was careful not to look in Eric’s direction.

  “I can’t believe that asshole had the balls to come here!” It was Marie. “And then to rock his colors right in front of Naquan!”

  “Who’s Naquan?”

  “Head of the Real Live Niggaz, baby! Eric walked right past him like it ain’t nothing. He’s gonna get it.”

  “What, you plan to teach him a lesson?”

  “Not me. He’s gonna get jumped on his way out of here. Naquan wants to really fuck up his pretty face. I bet you’ll be glad to see that, hunh? After the way that Crab punk played you!”

  “Uh, yeah. He deserves it.”

  “You said it.” She walked away.

  Oh my God. They were really going to hurt Eric.

  He only had two guys to back him up. From what I’d seen, there were at least a dozen RLN in the bar, and that didn’t include whoever might be outside.

  I couldn’t let it happen. I just couldn’t.

  I asked the bartender if he had something to write with.

  He passed me a pen. On a napkin, I wrote:

  RLN are planning to jump you outside.

  Find another way out.

  I folded the napkin and walked toward him. He spotted me when I was halfway there.

  Oh, Eric, how did you get yourself into this mess?

  I stopped in front of him, my heart pounding.

  “Hi, Eric.”

  “Hey, Divine.”

  I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. His hand closed around the note. “Hope you’re having a good time,” I said.

  “You too.”

  I felt his eyes follow me as I walked away. I headed toward the girls’ bathroom at the back of the bar and reapplied lip gloss in front of the mirror.

  How the hell is he going to get out of this?

  When I left the bathroom, Eric was there, slipping his phone into his pocket.

  I stopped dead, pinned by his eyes.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Take care of it.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Eric.”

  “Don’t sweat it.” He stepped out of my way, letting me pass him in the narrow hallway. As I walked by, I caught the scent of his cologne.

  God, I missed him.

  Back in the lounge, I found Q at the bar with some girlfriends.

  “Julia, where’d you go?”

  “Bathroom.” I couldn’t tell her the whole story, not with the rest of the girls around. “Where’s the guy?”

  “One girl wasn’t enough for him. I cut him loose when he grabbed Shavelle and tried to get us to sandwich him. Sicko.” She checked her watch. “I’m done with this place. Wanna get a bite?”

  “Let’s stay a bit longer,” I said. “Some more hot guys came in.” I didn’t want to leave until I knew Eric got out safe.

  Q yawned. “Okay. We’ll stay long enough for you to get your rebound kiss. Who’s it gonna be?”

  Over the next half hour, I made eyes at a few guys, more to satisfy Q than anything else. She had no clue that I was stalling.

  And then it happened. Eric, Rolo, and Hex left the bar. Naquan and his Bloods, I knew, would be waiting for them.

  Suddenly a crowd of people rushed toward the door. Something had started outside. I pushed to the front of the pack, losing Q. I had to see what was happening.

  A wave of people pushed behind me, thrusting me out onto the curb. A huge fight was blocking the sidewalk. There were at least twenty people scrapping.

  Eric had called the Crips for backup. Smart move.

  I caught sight of Eric somewhere in the middle of the brawl. He was on his feet, holding his own. And there was somebody else I recognized—Scrap, Black Chuck’s big brother. Tall and muscular with crazy braids flying everywhere, Scrap fought like a savage.

  It felt like only seconds passed before I heard the sirens. Abandoning the fight, people ran off in every direction. Cop cars barreled down Smith Street, stopping in front of the bar.

  By then it was too late to make arrests. There were a couple of Bloods on the ground, too beat up to run. One of the cops radioed for ambulances.

  I closed my eyes and sighed, relieved. Eric was going to be okay.

  For tonight, anyway.

  THE CALL

  A loud buzzing jolted me out of a dream.

  I slapped my alarm clock, but it didn’t stop the buzzing.

  I finally realized it was the phone.

  Grabbing for it, I said, “Hello?”

  “Bitch!” a female voice screamed in my ear.

  Then a dial tone.

  REDEMPTION

  The phone rang again at 11:53 a.m. By that time, I’d almost convinced myself that it was time to drag my ass out of bed.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey. It’s Eric.”

  I cleared my throat. “Uh, hi.”

  “You’re just waking up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I figured I should wait till noon.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I really want to see you, Julia. We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About everything. Is your dad home?”

  “No, but—”

  “Can I come over?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I heard him blow air into
the phone. “I’m not a thug, Julia. You can trust me.”

  It wasn’t him I didn’t trust.

  It was me. I had a major soft spot for Eric.

  Or maybe a blind spot.

  “I’ll see you, just not here. How about Hal’s?”

  “Okay. What time?”

  “Twelve thirty.”

  “Sure. See you then.”

  “Later.”

  I hung up.

  This could be a mistake. I knew I didn’t have much resistance where Eric was concerned. But I just couldn’t pass up the chance to see him.

  I missed him so much.

  * * *

  Hal’s was a greasy spoon around the corner from my building. I’d met Eric there a couple of times before.

  Hal’s decor was all about the man himself. The walls were covered with black-and-white photos—Hal as a boy, a teen, a middle-aged man—packing on more and more pounds. The last picture had Hal with his wife, grown children, and first grandchild; there were no pictures of Hal after that, because he died of a heart attack. Hal’s “home-cooking” finally caught up with him.

  Eric was already sitting at a table with a soda when I got there. I noticed he had a black eye and a cut lip from last night’s fight.

  Didn’t make him any less beautiful.

  I sat down across from him. He was about to say something when the waiter showed up and handed me a menu. When he left, I looked at Eric, expecting him to start.

  “I owe you my life, Julia. Last night would’ve turned out real bad if you hadn’t warned me.” He reached across the table for my hand. I let him take it, though I was uncomfortable. I didn’t want to believe that I’d saved his life. It terrified me.

  “I’m sorry you think I played you, Julia. I know you’re not gonna forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m not who you think I am.”

  “You’re not a gangbanger?”

  “That isn’t what I mean. You thought I didn’t care how you felt about me joining the gang. I did care. There was just nothing I could do about it.”

  “What are you saying—they forced you to join?”

  “No. I already joined in Detroit and I was never officially jumped out. The way I see it, I just moved from one set to another.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror? That gash you have on your face is red, Eric. Your blood isn’t blue.” I pushed my menu away. “We don’t get each other, so there’s no point in talking about this.”