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“You gotta come find out for yourself. They might like yo’ country ass.”

He thought I was lucky. It wasn’t that I didn’t give a fuck about Ni, ’cause I still showed up for her when it mattered. She wasn’t walkin’ around here miserable. When I was home, we slept in the same bed, ate together; we had a whole life. But I told her from the beginning that I’d never fall in love with her. She said she could handle it. But since Juicy’s been back around, I’ve seen a different side of her.

Jealousy was what got under my skin. I didn’t question her ’bout the nigga she been fuckin’ for the last two years. The blogs caught lil’ shit wit’ them. At one point, she ain’t stay here for months. So, I didn’t understand why, all of a sudden, she was goin’ so hard. Wantin’ me to lay up under her, beggin’ me to fuck her and shit. Ni would get a lil’ moody, but I knew her. This was different.

I listened to them go back and forth, but Coach Les was still starin’ at me. He paid attention to everything. I couldn’t get nothin’ past him. I needed this, though. Normal shit. Kickin’ it wit’ my niggas, a good meal, and a place to just be Juvie. Don and Rue tried to get me to go out wit’ them, but I wasn’t in the mood for that. Any other time, I’d be dressed and ready to fuck up the city and spend some money. I needed to slow down, get some real sleep, and get ready to fly back home.

Don and Rue left, and it was just Coach Les and me sittin’ on the patio. He was on his second cigar, and I was in my head. This shit wit’ Yusef, Ni workin’ my fuckin’ nerves, and Juicy. The only worry I didn’t have was money. That’s why they say money can’t buy happiness. My phone buzzed again, but I didn’t even pick that shit up.

Coach Les glanced at me, then leaned back in his chair, hands laced together. “Whatever got you wound this tight, don’t let it make you forget who you are, Juvie. You gotta promise me that.”

I ain’t respond right away; I just let it sit on me for a minute. “I won’t. You got my word.”

He glanced at me and gave me one of his looks. “That’s all I need. You make sure you call me if you start to forget.”

“I got you.”

We sat there in silence like we did any time he knew I wasn’t right. Coach Les was more than just my coach. He gave me family when I came to L.A. He made me feel welcome in any room he was in, whether it was at his house, at events, or when I was showin’ my ass. He led wit’ love; he wasn’t obligated to. He sat me down and talked instead of tellin’ me everything I did wrong.

My phone buzzed against the table again. I opened my messages and got irritated all over again.

Good evening, Mr. Ross,

I’m reaching out to finalize your preferences for your upcoming event with the Brickhouse Bullies junior football team. If you’d like to make any changes, let me know, and I can revise the itinerary and send an updated version. Looking forward to hearing from you.

Best,

Jela Morton

Executive Assistant, Mercer Sports Management & Co.

I read it twice, then locked my phone. Juicy was gon’ make me turn up on her. Sendin’ other mufuckas to deal wit’ me like I ever gave a fuck about lookin’ crazy. When we finally got face to face, I wanted her to keep the same energy.

Coach patted my shoulder, then glanced at me.

“Call me if you need me, kid. I’m heading out before the missus starts calling.”

“Aight, Coach. Thanks for comin’. I’ll hit you.”

He stepped inside, but I stayed a little longer before goin’ back in. I rubbed my neck, tryna relieve some tension. Some rest would do me good. I threw back two more shots, then went inside. For once, I ain’t feel like dealin’ wit’ nobody. Not Ni, Yusef, or Juicy. I just wanted some fuckin’ peace.

May 17th, 2015 — Georgia Tech Campus

I knew better than the shit I was ’bout to do, but tonight, I didn’t give a fuck. It was my mufuckin’ birthday. Dice had the plug for bikes, and the nigga got us two Ninjas. We were in the parking lot wit’ a crowd of people around us, burnin’ rubber until we finally sped off. Dice wanted to race, and I was ’bout to burn his ass up. We had damn near half the campus lined up on Northside Drive, waitin’ to see this race. When we made it to the startin’ point, Dice pulled up beside me.

“Aye. I’m finna take this W, Juv. Better bring yo’ best shit out.”

“Nigga, you ain’t built like me. Let’s get it!”

The light turned green, and we took off. We rode hard as fuck, dippin’ in and out of traffic. We were comin’ up on a red light, but that shit ain’t mean nothin’ to us. The cars were nose to nose, horns blarin’ behind us. My heart pounded against my ribs when I glanced at the speedometer. I was goin’ 115 mph, and Dice was still on my ass, but he wasn’t passin’ me.

I took my eyes off the road for a second, and taillights were right there. My next move had to be my best move. Dice was too close, but another car was in the right lane, and I didn’t have enough room to squeeze through. I had no choice unless I wanted to die, so I swung left, almost clipped Dice, and shifted gears. My adrenaline was pumpin’ so hard my whole body vibrated.

“The fuck, Juvie!” Dice yelled from behind me.

“My bad!”

I twisted the throttle, laughin’ inside my helmet. Dice was still talkin’ shit, but I couldn’t hear half of it. I was too busy tryna win this fuckin’ race. We barely made it another block before blue lights flashed against the cars ahead of us. At first, I didn’t pay that shit no mind. Then the sirens cut through the sound of our engines.