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Dice kept talkin’, but I blocked him out and looked at all the police cars lined up. An all-black Tahoe with blacked-out windows hit the corner, and I knew exactly who it was. The license plate gave it away: YSCOTT1. My whole body tensed as I watched his truck creep up the street. He pulled in front of the police, turned on his hazards, and stepped out.

Nigga always wore a three-piece suit. It didn’t matter what was goin’ on or where he was. He smoothed his jacket, then walked over to us. A regular nigga would’ve been relieved that somebody showed up and saved their ass from goin’ to jail, but not me. My fists balled up at my side, jaw clenched tight just from lookin’ at this nigga.

“Evening, JuMarion. What have you gotten yourself into tonight?”

My lip curled as I stared down at him. “Does it fuckin’ matter?”

“Well,” he sighed. “Given that you could have killed yourself or someone else, it does. Have you and your friend received your tickets?”

“Do you see ’em in my hand?”

Yusef stepped back from me and chuckled. “You’ve got a point.”

“Dice Williams, right?” he asked. “I’ll see if the officers can expedite these tickets, and I’ll give you kids a ride back to campus.”

Dice shook his hand fast as hell. “Thank you! I appreciate this.”

He nodded, then strolled off without sayin’ nothin’ else. I glanced at Dice, and his brows were pulled together tight.

“Juv, this nigga saved us. Why the fuck you actin’ like that? We coulda went to jail.”

“Dice, this my last time sayin’ it… I don’t give a fuck ’bout jail. That nigga ain’t doin’ me no favors. Let that shit go.”

Not even five minutes later, Yusef came back with the tickets. I didn’t even wait for him; I tapped Dice, and we climbed into the truck’s backseat. I was quiet the entire ride to campus. Yusef asked Dice a bunch of questions. These niggas kept laughin’, just choppin’ it up on some regular shit. The only thing on my mind was gettin’ to my apartment to change ’cause I was still goin’ out tonight.

Yusef finally pulled up in front of our building, then unlocked the doors.

“It was nice meeting you, Dice. Stay out of trouble. And don’t worry about the tickets. I’ll take care of that.”

“Thanks, Mr. Scott,” Dice said.

I reached for the door, and Yusef stopped me. “Let me speak with you for a moment, JuMarion. He’ll be up shortly, Dice.”

Dice glanced at me, but he got out anyway.

I shook my head and leaned back in the seat. Another lecture wasn’t gon’ fix this shit. Gettin’ me outta trouble wouldn’t change how I moved. He was ’bout to waste his fuckin’ breath. As soon as Dice was out of earshot, Yusef stared at me through the rearview mirror.

His finger drummed against the steering wheel. “I’m losing my patience with you. You know what’s at stake, and you still insist on being uncooperative. You know what’s expected of you, and yet I’m picking you up from police custody because you and your friend decided to be idiots.”

“You losing patience? Aye, you could’ve just left me there. I ain’t ask for none of this shit,” I spat.

“You may not have asked for it, but you and your father’s actions did. This is becoming a problem, JuMarion. If it’s not the racing, it’s the weed. If it’s not the weed, it’s pill popping. If it’s not that, it’s your grades. You are reckless and irresponsible!”

I stared out of the window, watchin’ the girls I invited to my place walk past the truck. “You done? I got somewhere to be.”

“You just don’t get it, do you? Rest assured, if another major incident like this happens, you won’t like the outcome. Have a great night, JuMarion.”

“Fuck you!”

I jumped out of his truck and slammed the door. Yusef always threw threats around; that wasn’t new. Tryna reprimand me like he was my fuckin’ pops. I hated that nigga. He could control everything else in my life, but he wasn’t about to control me.

By the time I made it back to my apartment, it was after 3:00 a.m. I knocked a nigga out, drank almost a whole bottle of Henny, and popped two percs, but nothin’ numbed the pain I felt. Atlanta was cool, but it wasn’t home. I missed my friends; I still couldn’t stop thinkin’ ’bout Juicy, and more than anything, I missed my muva. My apartment was pitch black as I stumbled through the hall to my room.

I shoved my door open, kicked off my shoes, then stripped. The room kept spinning as my back hit the mattress, but I had to call Mommy. The line rang three times before I heard shuffling on the other side. Then, her voice slipped through the line, takin’ my pain away.

“What’s wrong, Boo Bear? Why you callin’ this late?”

My throat felt like I swallowed glass, and my eyes burned listenin’ to her breathe on the other end. I didn’t know what to say. Hearin’ her voice was what I needed.