“Where did you learn how to drive, Marcos?”
“Damn you asking a lot of questions. You police? Where are you trying to go?”
I rolled my eyes, and he pushed. “Where you wanna go, for real?”
“What you mean? I want to go home. I smell like a grease pit.”
“Yeah, you lowkey making me hungry.”
I mushed the side of his head.
“I got a car, Dyami. Let’s ride.” He said more genuinely.
“I guess.” I hid my smile as I turned to the window.
“That’s what’s up. You're my first ride.”
“Umm hmm. I know you picked up one of ya little girlfriends.” I teased.
“Shit, I’m trying to make that you. Everybody already thinks you my girl.”
“Well, you should tell them we are just friends.”
“Why?” He scrunched his face up.
“Boy!” As soon as I finished, we both fell out laughing. The conversation died down as he got on I-475. We ended up getting off on the Hemphill Road exit and going to chill at the park behind the old McKinley.
“So, how did you get this car? Messing with Lanky nem?” I questioned.
“Just know I got it.”
“You're smarter than that, Marcos,” I said.
“You always say that, but I’m just trying to help. I see how you living and I know how I want to live. I’m careful.”
“Don’t be doing nothing stupid on account of me. I’m just fine catching the bus or walking home from work.”
“Walking on Clio Rd is a death sentence. I’m not having that shit, Dyami. I fuck with you too much. That’s why I’m waiting at that bus stop every day you get off. I don’t like that shit.”
“You over there talking like you grown. We both kids. We don’t have control over what happens around us. I’m just waiting to turn 18 to get the hell out of here and don’t look back.”
“What about me? You gone forget all about us?” Marcos sat up.
“Why are you saying us like that? And you can come with me. Get your mind off these niggas around here. Lanky nem ain’t gone do nothing but drag you down.” I pointed my finger at his face. I hated that Marcos sold drugs. I saw the pull the streets had on boys my age, and I heard a lot about how things could go wrong. I liked Marcos for who he was. The simple things I couldn’t depend on anybody else for, I got from him.
“Why is everybody acting like they my best friends or something. I make money with them. It’s business.”
“It scares me to think that I’ll see you locked up one day.”
“I won’t end up like my Pops. I’m smart, like you said.”
I folded my arms across my chest.
“Damn you act like my momma. Get out.” He said as he got out. I didn’t move until he was at the passenger side, tugging on my door.
“What?” I whined.
“Get yo pretty ass out.” He pulled me up, and I was blushing again. He closed the door, and he was dangerously close to me. Marcos was so tall. The only boy I knew who was taller than him was a friend named Chubby, whom everyone thought would be a basketball player. Over the last year, he had agrowth spurt and had gotten much stronger. Marcos, being 6’0, was like craning my neck up and looking at a tree. As soon as my eyes met his, everything around us faded away. I did my best to suppress those feelings, and most of the time it worked. Not right now.
