She sucked her teeth. “Nigga, everybody knows. They have a camera in there. We saw you simping like a bitch!”
My jaws clenched. “You better shut yo ass up!” I gritted in her face.
She tossed her hand up, and I slapped the bitch down. “Who recording niggas? Huh?”
She tried getting up, but I pushed her back down. “Nigga, I don’t know!” she hissed.
“Percy!”Royce shouted.
I turned to see her standing behind me, holding my daughter. “Shit. Sup, baby?”
“What’s going on over here?”
“Nothing. It was a fight,” I said as I turned to grill Anika.
I knew she was petty, and I prayed like hell she didn’t say shit. Anika got up from the table and glanced at me, smirking.
“We’ll talk soon, Percy,” she said as she walked off.
Royce handed me my daughter as she looked back at Anika, then at me. I knew her wheels were turning, but I didn’t need her finding shit out. She had been good to me. She was the one good thing I had besides my daughter, and I didn’t want to ruin it. However, in the back of my mind, the only person I could think would do some fucked up shit like that was Jesaiah.
Royce stood there looking beautiful as ever. I reached out and grabbed her hand to help her sit down. When she did, I tapped her chin.
“She didn’t give you any problems, did she?”
Royce smiled. “She is such a sweet little girl. No, she didn’t. Ithought I would bring her by to have lunch with her daddy, but it looks like things in here are a mess.”
I laughed. “It is, but if you give me an hour, it will be just me and you.” I paused. “And Breann.”
She nodded. I handed her my daughter, and I knew I had been trying for the longest, but it felt right this time. I leaned down and kissed her lips softly.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
I figured she would slap me or something, but she didn’t. Royce actually kissed me back. It felt good to be wanted and to have someone in my corner who accepted all of me, and if I didn’t figure out who was behind that video, I knew it would fuck up what Royce and I were building.
I thought about Dio’s offer, then looked at Royce and my daughter. If she could just help a nigga a little longer, I would soon be able to afford daycare and work this shit out. I had something going for myself, and I didn’t want anything or anyone to fuck it up. It was hard, no doubt, but the woman and girl sitting in front of me made a nigga want to keep pushing without making any excuses. I didn’t stay on the line, but those principles stuck with me.
XAVIER
It had been months since I’d been on my bike. It held a small space in a corner of the covered campus parking lot. Today, I decided to finally take the fucking boot off my foot. I packed it in a large, oversized bag with a bunch of other items I would need for a week. My foot still ached a bit, but I was determined to start moving it to get back into the swing of things.
When I stopped by the Blue Café, it was simply to grab something to eat before taking the hour-and-forty-five-minute drive to the countryside of Covana. Instead of food, I was met with Samara fighting. Once I made sure she was calm and things were good, I got on the road.
Whatever she and Dio were going through, the shit was taking a toll on her, and I hoped her taking this break would help. I knew Dio was trying to get through that pledging shit, and my hat was off to him because there was no way I could spend my spring break on that dry-ass campus while everyone was gone. Dio did make me open my eyes, though, because the nigga was tough; he was truly an example of seeing things through, no matter how bad shit got. Now it madesince why Chevy chose him to be the prince. He inspired me to stop complaining and make shit shake.
Whether Dio knew or not, he was the definition of Black excellence. A nigga who has been through hell and back and still striving to be better each day. It wasn’t the ideal aspect, but the hood version, and for niggas like me, he was a god.
So, here I was riding without the boot. I was determined to get on that court before school was out. All I needed was one game, and it would happen. The longer I rode, the more I began to think about Phoebe and all the shit we'd experienced since really getting to know each other. I knew she wasn’t perfect, but baby needed to get her shit together. By the time my thoughts cycled again, I was pulling up to a huge mansion that looked like a farmhouse. I had to check my GPS to make sure I was at the right location. When I realized it was correct, I pressed the button on the box at the gate and waited for someone to answer.
“Hello,” a lady called out.
“Um, I’m Xavier Keyton, here for—”
The gate opened, making me feel like I was on some sort of secret mission. My brows raised as I rode my bike up the long driveway. I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t some rich life type shit. I hoped this Hendricks person wasn’t some prick who looked at me like some slave who was coming here to work for the free. The only reason I was here was because my coach required it, and I didn’t want to miss any more opportunities to be on that court.
By the time I reached the front of the house, an older couple was standing on the porch. The older guy, whom I assumed was Hendricks, was about as tall as me, with casual-like clothes on, while the lady was shorter, pretty, and dressed in clothes like she was about to go pick flowers and shit. I got off my bike and limped closer to them. The closer I got, the more the guy looked like he had a stick up his ass.
“Xavier shooting guard Keyton,” he said to me.
