Read Online Of Hustle and Heart by Briseis S. Lily - Free Book Online

myself a Nestlé’s iced tea and three packs of sunflower seeds for my little brothers, the kids are popping their heads inside the store, asking me for this and that type of media. They’re excited but not nearly as much as I am. I have every fucking thing they want. It’s rare that I thank God, though I don’t know why, but today I smile hard and do just that.
    I sell out of all the good stuff, with demands for more. I’m actually surprised by the uproar. But when I think about it, it makes nothing but sense. This is a heavily populated area, full of kids like me. We all go through the same financial shit storms. Had I been more confident, I would’ve seen it.
    I get bused out of the hood every day to a part of Houston that 89 percent of my neighbor teens have only heard about. I go to school with rich kids and white people. And sometimes that feels like a burden for someone like me. My people over here want the same things those kids want—they want good things, and they want quality. They want to know that if they choose to have things, there’s a way to make it happen. I think I brought them a choice today, in a way they could understand. And they’re happy about that shit. We’re all super excited right now.
    And then Phillip’s punk ass rolls up to Ms. Kim’s in his rusty, old, powder-puff-blue Oldsmobile. I shake my head when I see him coming. It’s 4:38 p.m., and I thought he got off at 6:00 p.m. I knew he didn’t have a job. You busted, nigga.
    I remember that day when I wanted him gone as soon as I saw him bringing his old shit into our house in those black trash bags, but there was a reason for him moving in with us—more than one, actually. The house we rented was owned by his second cousin, or uncle, or somebody like that. Mama told me he helped her get the house, and he helped her with the deposit and first month’s rent. And if that wasn’t enough…my mama was lonely. I sat in silence, swallowing my disapproval. I understood, and I couldn’t argue with that.
    I’m not sure if he sees me when he gets out of his car, but as he walks into the store, he glances at me. I’m sure of it. We are not on speaking terms, because I don’t talk to him. He is a blemish on our household. He walks out of Kim’s with a carton of Newport and a six-pack of generic beer and nods at me.
    “How was work today, Phillip?” I call to him as he steps from the store into the gravel in Ms. Kim’s raggedy parking lot. He nods, smiling the way he does when he knows I’m coming for him.
    “It was good,” he says. “How was school?”
    I shrug. And that’s it. He chuckles as he gets into his car and pulls off. I cross my arms and frown, because even though Phillip didn’t say anything to me, I know he asked the guy behind the counter how long I’d been at the store. His smile was too big and genuine. I’ll be boosting that carton of cigarettes when I get home.
    It’s about five twenty, and I’m ready to pack it up and go home. The sun is starting to dip a bit, and most of the other kids have traveled back to the streets. I’m still at Ms. Kim’s, trying to unload some gospel CDs to the adults who are stopping for gas, sodas, beer, or whatever on their way home from work. I’m about to pack it in, when the argument begins. I’m not fazed by the fussing, but it sounds pretty heated. Some of the grown-ups have heard it too. I make eye contact with a few of ’em. We’re all wearing that same what-the-hell look on our faces.
    Most of the noise is coming from a man behind the wheel of a Mercedes that had stopped at the edge of the parking lot. Turns out the car is stolen, but that’s a whole other story in itself. Anyhow, the man is hanging out the car window, spewing all kinds of bullshit. When he throws the car into park and opens the door, folks start to leave.
    I pick up my bag and go into Kim’s. I’m scared to walk home with the fight going on outside, but finding the store empty scares me more. I