walking,” Franky said, still amped about the fight that took him totally by surprise. “I’m going to get suspended on my first day of school. What’s that dude’s problem?”
“No, you won’t get suspended,” she said. “Nobody’s gonna tell those rent-a-cops anything. They couldn’t get directions if they were lost.”
“But what about the videotape?” Franky asked.
“What about it?”
“They’re gonna see me on the tape,” he said, wondering how his parents would feel about the way he handled the situation. His dad would’ve been proud and given him a high five; his mother would’ve been appalled and chastised him for not walking away.
“Those lazy bustas ain’t looking at no tape. Especially about no measly little fight. Stop yo worrying, shawty. You’re good.”
“Man,” he said, “all I wanted to do was come to school. Why did that guy try to start something with me? I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me.”
“I told you he likes attention,” she said, looking back at the officers, who had Tyrone sitting now. They were waving some smelling salts back and forth under his nose. “He’s getting all the attention he can stand now. That’s what he gets tryna jump bad.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right,” Franky said, looking over at his victim.
“You won’t have no more problems out of him,” Khadija said proudly. “Trust me on that.”
“I hope not,” Franky said. “I don’t like fighting, ya heard.”
“Yeah, I hear ya. But you’re oh so good at it, shawty,” Khadija said with a wink.
“Stop calling me shorty. I’m taller than you,” he said, slowly coming down from the high of his altercation.
“Yeah, but you’re still my shawty,” Khadija said, and rubbed his arm.
“Whatever you say, Mrs. Blue and Red Hair,” he said.
“Don’t hate,” she said.
“Well, I do hate it,” Franky said.
“For real?”
“For real. You’re too pretty to have all of that mess in your hair looking like an ice-cream swirly.”
“Oh, you got jokes?”
“I’m just saying.”
“So you think I’m pretty?”
“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “You’re pretty.”
“Why you got all these books, man? They didn’t give you a locker?”
“Yeah, but I told you I need to play catch-up,” he said, shifting the books to his other hand.
“Okay. If you say so, shawty,” she said. “Have at it.”
Franky smiled and peeked over his shoulder to see if the officers were looking at him. They weren’t. They were busy trying to get Tyrone to stand on his own.
“Okay, Franky. I gotta get on this bus before I get left. Then I’ll have to call my momma, and Lord knows I don’t wanna hear her mouth. But you make sure you call me tonight. Okay?”
“Fo sho,” he said as he watched her run off to where a line of cheese buses waited.
If she takes that crap out of her hair, we might be working with something, he thought.
9
A fter his altercation with Tyrone, Franky walked around the building to check on the football team. He walked around the building to check out the football team. He stood at the fence and watched the M&M Rams practice for about twenty minutes or so. They seemed to be pretty good. He could tell the coach had their full attention. It was totally different from what he saw in the classrooms. He made a mental note to speak with the coach tomorrow to see if he could get out there and in the mix. It had been so long since he had participated in football that he wasn’t sure if he was fast enough to handle playing tailback anymore. He had had a nice little growth spurt in the last few years. He showed up in Atlanta as a skinny, five-feet-two-inch twelve-year-old but was now a five-feet-ten-inch fifteen-year-old who weighed close to one hundred and seventy pounds. Maybe he would try linebacker, or maybe he would just tell the coach to pick a spot for him. Standing there watching his peers, he realized how much he missedfootball. Just watching was
“No, you won’t get suspended,” she said. “Nobody’s gonna tell those rent-a-cops anything. They couldn’t get directions if they were lost.”
“But what about the videotape?” Franky asked.
“What about it?”
“They’re gonna see me on the tape,” he said, wondering how his parents would feel about the way he handled the situation. His dad would’ve been proud and given him a high five; his mother would’ve been appalled and chastised him for not walking away.
“Those lazy bustas ain’t looking at no tape. Especially about no measly little fight. Stop yo worrying, shawty. You’re good.”
“Man,” he said, “all I wanted to do was come to school. Why did that guy try to start something with me? I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me.”
“I told you he likes attention,” she said, looking back at the officers, who had Tyrone sitting now. They were waving some smelling salts back and forth under his nose. “He’s getting all the attention he can stand now. That’s what he gets tryna jump bad.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right,” Franky said, looking over at his victim.
“You won’t have no more problems out of him,” Khadija said proudly. “Trust me on that.”
“I hope not,” Franky said. “I don’t like fighting, ya heard.”
“Yeah, I hear ya. But you’re oh so good at it, shawty,” Khadija said with a wink.
“Stop calling me shorty. I’m taller than you,” he said, slowly coming down from the high of his altercation.
“Yeah, but you’re still my shawty,” Khadija said, and rubbed his arm.
“Whatever you say, Mrs. Blue and Red Hair,” he said.
“Don’t hate,” she said.
“Well, I do hate it,” Franky said.
“For real?”
“For real. You’re too pretty to have all of that mess in your hair looking like an ice-cream swirly.”
“Oh, you got jokes?”
“I’m just saying.”
“So you think I’m pretty?”
“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “You’re pretty.”
“Why you got all these books, man? They didn’t give you a locker?”
“Yeah, but I told you I need to play catch-up,” he said, shifting the books to his other hand.
“Okay. If you say so, shawty,” she said. “Have at it.”
Franky smiled and peeked over his shoulder to see if the officers were looking at him. They weren’t. They were busy trying to get Tyrone to stand on his own.
“Okay, Franky. I gotta get on this bus before I get left. Then I’ll have to call my momma, and Lord knows I don’t wanna hear her mouth. But you make sure you call me tonight. Okay?”
“Fo sho,” he said as he watched her run off to where a line of cheese buses waited.
If she takes that crap out of her hair, we might be working with something, he thought.
9
A fter his altercation with Tyrone, Franky walked around the building to check on the football team. He walked around the building to check out the football team. He stood at the fence and watched the M&M Rams practice for about twenty minutes or so. They seemed to be pretty good. He could tell the coach had their full attention. It was totally different from what he saw in the classrooms. He made a mental note to speak with the coach tomorrow to see if he could get out there and in the mix. It had been so long since he had participated in football that he wasn’t sure if he was fast enough to handle playing tailback anymore. He had had a nice little growth spurt in the last few years. He showed up in Atlanta as a skinny, five-feet-two-inch twelve-year-old but was now a five-feet-ten-inch fifteen-year-old who weighed close to one hundred and seventy pounds. Maybe he would try linebacker, or maybe he would just tell the coach to pick a spot for him. Standing there watching his peers, he realized how much he missedfootball. Just watching was
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