“One of the lil’ homies just hit my line. I don't know if Irish is good... Fuck!” Rio spat, looking at his phone. “I gotta go.”
Cali quickly grabbed Bria and hurried toward the car. “I have to get to Irish. I know she’s going crazy right now.”
“Wait, let me go let Kaylona know. I’ll meet you back at the car.”
Cali nodded and hurried toward the other side of the parking lot where the car was parked. She prayed that this was all a misunderstanding because Irish would never be the same if Jovanis was dead.
Two
2010
Noble sat in the passenger seat while his mother’s boyfriend, Bernard, drove. Wilde and Zayd were in the back, arguing over miscellaneous topics as usual. Noble had just come from basketball practice and couldn’t wait to get home and eat.
“When’s your next game?” Bernard asked.
“Saturday.”
“Where is it at?”
“I gotta check the schedule.”
Noble’s answers were always short with Bernard. It wasn’t that he didn’t like him but he wasn’t his father. He missed him so much and still found it difficult to accept his death. It had been three years since his father’s untimely murder, and Noble was admittedly stuck at stage two of grief.
“I’ll be there as soon as I get off work,” Bernard assured.
Noble couldn’t have cared less about his presence at his game. The only people he cared about coming to watch him play was his mother and Uncle Dame.
“That nigga ain't gon’ get no points,” Wilde joked from the back seat.
Noble turned around, smirking at his hating-ass brother. “I’ll bust yo’ ass.”
“Doubt it,” Wilde arrogantly spat.
Noble faced forward and saw a look of panic on Bernard’s face. His gaze then traveled to the side mirror where he saw flashing blue and red lights.
“Shit,” Bernard cursed under his breath. “Got dammit!” He hit the wheel with his open palm.
“What’s wrong?” Zayd asked.
“Uh, nothing.” Bernard tried to hide his uneasiness by straightening his posture but Noble saw right through it.
“Look here, y’all. The police is behind us so act cool.” He pulled over.
Noble knew how vile and disrespectful the police were. He’d seen them relentlessly beat a man for not providing his ID fast enough. He’d witnessed them pulling people over in the hood and arresting them for miscellaneous things. There had been a lot of corruption with the St. Parklynn Police Department, and he prayed that this wasn’t the case.
Bernard’s face was covered in sweat as he gripped the steering wheel. An officer approached his window, resting his hand on his utility belt.
“License and registration!” he ordered.
Bernard cautiously reach for the glove compartment and grabbed his paperwork. He then passed it to the cop, who took a quick glance at it.
“Sir, do you have any illegal substances in the car?”
“N-no, I d-don’t,” Bernard stammered.
Noble watched him closely as his leg began bouncing.
“Sir, step out of the car,” the cop commanded.
