Nothing.
Slowly, my eyes went to him, and I would never forget the look on his face. It made me sit up straight like a bucket of cold water had been poured over my head.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Let’s go.” I didn’t recognize his voice. He pulled out of the driveway, and we parked at Max Brandon Park while I waited for him to gather his words. He had on his usual outfit. Basketball shorts, a white T-shirt, and a pair of Jordans. One thing that had caught my attention over the last few months was his jewelry. It seemed like every time I saw him, he would have a new piece. Additionally, his school attendance declined. I was aware of what he was involved in, and I prayed every night that nothing would happen to him. I couldn’t take that.
“I’m leaving.” I heard his words, but they didn’t register. He sat back in the driver’s seat, looking forward.
“What?” I asked.
“I got into some shit. Some real shit.”
“What you mean? What happened?” I was frantic now.
“Calm down, Mi. It’s just…shit.”
“No, tell me!” I clutched onto him.
“Lanky and-”
“Lanky? I told you about messing with his ass! What is going on?”
“He set me up. It was supposed to be a simple drop. Next thing I know niggas came in from everywhere. They tried to take my product and chain. That would have been a death sentence. These niggas don’t play about being short. I just started shooting.”
“Shooting?” I screeched. “Did you kill somebody?” My eyes bugged out of my head. This shit was crazy! Marcos carried himself as a grown man as long as I could remember. I suppose our maturity was what connected us, as we both had responsibilities we shouldn’t have at our age, even if his were self-inflicted.
He threw his head in his hands and didn’t respond. I gripped his shoulder to rock him, but he didn’t budge.
“Marcos!” I shouted.
“I don’t know! I just shot and got the fuck out of there! Ma heard about that shit. I don’t know how, but she flipped out and said we had to leave.”
My heart was beating so hard in my chest I thought it would explode. I couldn’t take the thought of him going toprison. I crawled onto his lap and wrapped him in my arms as the tears came down rapidly.
“You gotta stop this shit!” I pushed him in the chest. When he didn’t respond, I pushed him again. He gripped my hands in his, and I twisted around until I got tired, seeing I was no match for his strength.
“Chill, Dyami. Stop crying.”
I slipped off his lap and back into the passenger seat.
“How long will you be gone?”
His eyes found me, and it sat in the pit of my stomach what he was really saying. He was leaving for good. It ripped my heart out of my chest in such a real way. A pain passed through me like I’d never felt before. I was hyperventilating. He got out of the car and came to my side. He opened the door and pulled me into a hug, and his chin rested on the top of my head.
“Fuck it! I’m not leaving. I can’t leave you, Dyami.” He backed up and looked at me. Runners and joggers were running on the trail. Even a homeless man was in my line of sight, sleeping on an empty picnic table, but none of that mattered to me. This was the biggest thing I'd ever experienced. Even with how I felt, I knew what he just said wasn’t right.
I shook my head. “What you mean not going? You just said.” My lips closed tight. The people may not have mattered, but I had enough sense not to utter anything aloud that would incriminate him.
Incriminate. What the fuck?This couldn’t be happening. Not to him. Not to me.
“Fuck that! I’m grown, and if them niggas got something to say, then it is what it is. I’m not about to let nobody run me away from you.”
“What about your mom? You are not grown, Marcos! The car, the money, the jewelry, none of that means anything if you don’t graduate and end up in prison!” I tried to reason with him.
“Well, shit, come with me!” He said, showing his frustration.
“What? How are we going to do that?”
