Lovers & Haters (10 page)

His little brother had texted Xavier an hour ago, saying that he had to urgently speak with him. Xavier would address his little brother's text after class. Mr. Coleman was a stickler for not using your cell during class.

All the hero-hype directed at him
, Xavier thought,
had been blown out of portion
. The way he saw it, the hero would've gotten there way before Samantha had to go through anything. The type of mental trauma that she had sustained could possibly result in her rich parents pulling her from Coleman, and he wouldn't have a problem with it. The fact that she'd been harassed on his watch only strengthened his resolve of putting an end to the fools who thought they were above the law.

Romello's proposition was entertaining, but Xavier was having second thoughts. But if he joined Romello's gang—if Samantha returned to school—he would at least have the hallways a little safer than before.

“Hero,” Mr. Coleman addressed Xavier. “Are you here with the rest of us? Young man, you might have performed a noble feat that only a handful would have attempted, but your heroic efforts do not exclude you from participating inside this classroom. You have to turn in assignments like everybody else.”

The bell rang. Noise was made by students rustling their belongings.

“Your papers are due by next Friday,” Mr. Coleman announced.

The notification was met by a collective disapproving grumble.

As the students were leaving, Mr. Coleman said, “Xavier, son, I'd really like to talk to you for a minute.”

“Sir, I have to be to my next class.”

“Don't fret, Mr. Hunter. I will provide you with the proper documentation so that school security will be no problem.” Mr. Coleman waved his hand in the direction of the desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Xavier was reluctant about sitting down. If Mr. Coleman was about to deliver some bad news, he'd rather take it standing up like a man.

The teacher sat on the edge of his big desk, removed his glasses, and deeply exhaled. “Mr. Hunter, I would have to say that you are one of the most gifted students I've ever had the pleasure of teaching.”

“With all due respect, sir—what are you driving at?”

“Laying aside your intrepid act, I've been hearing reports about you that are so not indicative of what you can become in this life. And I have seen a lot of young men squander monumental gifts, just because”—he used the quote fingers—“they feel that they need to prove toughness, only to end up dead or in jail.”

“You don't know anything about me,” Xavier retorted.

“On the contrary, I know a lot about you. I've been teaching here at Coleman for twenty years. I've seen your kind come and go—wearing handcuffs or body bags. I've seen funerals, grieving mothers who've buried their sons. Yes, I do know. But you have a gift, one that can literally change your life and those around you. Now it's your choice. I can't force it on you. But I will ask you to give it some conservative thought.” Mr. Coleman placed his glasses back on his face. “Don't forget to write and turn in your essay, Mr. Hunter.”

 

Xavier made it home from school around four that evening. His mother's car wasn't around. The Chevrolet Impala parked in the driveway only meant one thing: His mother had taken back Nate, her slimy boyfriend, and he was no doubt strutting around inside the crib like a rooster.

With his key, Xavier entered the front door.

Nate started in on him immediately. The clown even had the nerve to sit in the front room on Ne Ne's expensive furniture, pretending like he was reading the newspaper.

“Word around the street is that you're a big-time hero,” he said to Xavier. “I heard about your heroics yesterday. Tell me—what does it feels like to be hailed with such high standards,
hero
.”

Xavier noticed the half-filled forty-ounce bottle of malt liquor resting between his thighs. The fool was obviously drunk and Xavier didn't have time for the moron. So he kept it moving.

Nate wasn't having it, though. His eyes were glazed over and he reeked of marijuana. He jumped up and got right in Xavier's grille, still holding onto the newspaper. “Word has it that you beat down two thugs to save the girl.”

Xavier dropped his bag. His fists balled up by themselves. “Nate, you surprise me. I didn't know you listened to neighborhood gossip.”

Nate growled. His breath smelled like rotting teeth and warm beer. “You think you're a badass, huh? Is that what you think,
hero
?”

“What I think, homeboy, is that you better raise up outta my face before something bad happens to you—you feel me?”

“Or what,
hero
?”

“Nate, I really don't know what this is about. Whatever your problem is, it's not with me, guy.”

Nate stepped closer to Xavier, totally violating his personal space. He let the newspaper fall down to the floor. “Hero—I think that you are a loser. Just like your daddy—not knowing how to keep a lady like your mother.”

Xavier kept his anger in check. Nate obviously couldn't stomach the fact that he was living in the shadow of Xavier. This was what it was all about. And as long as Xavier existed underneath Ne Ne's roof, Nate was not going to feel like a man.

“My sources tell me that you made it just in time, but I think you had to psych yourself up first. Think you were scared.”

Xavier understood that Nate wasn't looking to go toe to toe. The clown was simply feeling him out, a heart check. Xavier played along.

“I know cats like you, Nate—born losers. How does that feel? You broke your neck for maybe ten, fifteen years hustlin' on the street and all you have to show for it is that raggedy Impala and a few pairs of brand-new Air Jordans. And now you're hating on me because I'm trying to get an education. Tell me, how does that feel?”

From the way Nate tried to play it off by laughing, Xavier knew he had gotten inside Nate's head.

“You don't know anything about me. Who the hell do you think you are, a freakin' magician, hero?”

“My man, if I were a magician, for my first trick, I would've made you disappear from this household a long time ago.”

Nate scooted closer until their bodies were touching, raising his shirttail and showing off a black handle belonging to some kind of gun.

“This is for the next time that old Vietnam War geezer jumps in my face, popping off at the dentures. But you can get some too, hero.”

The front door opened just in time. In walked Ne Ne and Alfonso. They were both carrying plastic grocery bags from Walmart.

Ne Ne strolled right over to Nate and kissed him on the lips, giggling like a naive, little schoolgirl. “That's the way I want to see my two men getting along.”

“Yeah, baby, you know Nate loves the kids. I was just congratulating your oldest on his
good deed
.”

“Yeah, Xavier, that's nice, honey, saving that girl like that.” That was all Ne Ne said before starting for the kitchen.

She sat the bag down on the counter, turned around, and gave Nate another fat, juicy kiss on the lips. She wiped away the remnants of her lip gloss from his lips, then said, “Dinner will be on shortly, baby.”

After the smooch, Nate looked over his shoulder at Xavier, winked his eye, and said something that sounded like, “This ain't over, hero.”

As far as Xavier was concerned, he and Nate had nothing more to say.

Alfonso tugged at Xavier's hand. “I really need to talk to you.”

“Bet,” was the only thing Xavier said.

Alfonso led Xavier through the basement door, down the dark stairwell, and into the family room for some privacy.

“Okay, Alfonso, out with it,” Xavier said, without recognizing the insensitivity of his words.

His little brother sensed that Xavier was distracted and that made it much harder for him to open up. “I see Mama—I mean Ne Ne—didn't give you much props on getting your Superman on for saving that girl in school. I told everybody at school about how you rescued that girl and I was the man when they found out that my brother was a hero—it made the girlies treat me extra sweet.”

“How did you and Ne Ne find out about me saving the girl?” Xavier wanted to know.

“Are you kidding me, big bro? The whole neighborhood knows about it.”

Xavier wearily shook his head. “You know Ne Ne is all for Ne Ne.”

They both sat on the couch.

“I got this friend who might be in trouble,” Alfonso informed.

Xavier rubbed his tired, red eyes. “Who is this friend? And what kind of trouble has he gotten himself into?”

“Well, I have this friend at school and a group of guys want him to do something bad. . . .”

“Alfonso, little brother, I understand your condition. But I have a lot on my plate, so please get on with it.”

“You know, maybe this was a mistake,” Alfonso said, looking discouraged.

“All right, I'm sorry. But I have a ten-page paper due, my own troubles at school—and besides, I have to keep my eye on Nate. The chump is jealous of both of us. He's trying to get me kicked out by filling Ne Ne's dome with the dumbest things that I've ever heard.”

“Okay, to prove his loyalty to them, they want my friend to—aw.”

“‘Aw' what?” Xavier never even lifted his head to look into his brother's eyes.

Alfonso paused before changing the subject. “You look like crap, X.”

“Tell your friend to follow his heart,” Xavier advised. “Anyway, how are your grades?”

Alfonso just so happened to have a copy of his report card tucked away in his pocket. He handed it to Xavier.

“All right,” Xavier said, impressed. An A in English, B in geography, B in typing, B in science. What's the C in physical ed about?”

“Don't like the class.”

“I can dig it. If I had the opportunity, I'd flush that curriculum in the toilet.”

Xavier was too consumed by Nate and his own troubles to notice that his brother was shaking uncontrollably. Something or someone had him shook.

“Good talk, little brother. Now I gotta go up to my room and get started on my paper.”

Xavier pulled Alfonso in for a tight embrace. Maybe all the little fella needed was some love to chase away the ghost underneath his bed.

I
t was the last Friday in October and Samantha's parents had scheduled a meeting with Principle Skinner. They were gravely concerned about their daughter's safety and future at Coleman High. Xavier had also been summoned to the office because the parents wanted to meet the young man who'd risked his life to save their daughter.

Samantha's folks were seated in two armchairs in front of the principal's desk and Xavier sat out in the waiting area. He hadn't been called in yet but he could hear the conversation from outside the office.

“How can we be assured that this sort of thing doesn't happen again?” Mr. Fox asked Principal Skinner.

“We have ramped up security and a few police officers will be visible throughout the building,” Skinner explained. “The auditorium will only be open when we have assemblies and programs. Mr. and Mrs. Fox, we are sincerely sorry about what happened to Samantha. We will use every viable resource to make sure this sort of thing never happens again.”

“My baby is all that we have and it would simply crush us if something . . .” Mrs. Fox's voice trailed off.

Mr. Fox held his wife's hand for comfort.

Skinner said, “Next Monday, November first, we are holding an assembly to address security issues here at Coleman with other concerned parents. We would love it if you attended.”

“We wouldn't miss it,” said Mr. Fox.

“Great,” said the principal. He stood from his desk to shake Mr. Fox's hand. Skinner walked over to the office door and opened it, calling for Xavier. “Now, folks, I would like you to meet the pride of Coleman, Xavier Hunter.”

Xavier walked in.

“Xavier, this is Mr. and Mrs. Fox, Samantha's parents.” Skinner winked at Xavier, as if telling him to be on his best behavior. “Now, folks, I will close this door to give you a little privacy.”

Samantha's mother was gorgeous. She had a light complexion, was in her late thirties, and was wearing one of those flowery Sunday hats and a pretty blue dress. Xavier could see where Samantha had gotten her good looks from. Her dad was dark-skinned and had a fat jaw—he reminded Xavier of a bulldog. The old dude looked to be in his early fifties. He was dressed in a black business suit and loafers, his hair was slicked back and he had a smooth black beard. The Presidential Rolex the old dude was sporting was a straight-up beast.

“Son,” he said to Xavier. “We're in a great deal of debt to you for your courageousness.” He reached for his wallet. “And we're prepared to reward you handsomely.”

“With all due respect, sir, I didn't do it for any reward.”

“Fitzgerald,” Mrs. Fox said to her husband. “You offended Xavier. It's not about the money all the time. Apologize to him.”

Mr. Fox said, “Nonsense. Everybody can use some money.”

“Like I said, I didn't do it for that reason, sir,” Xavier firmly repeated.

Mrs. Fox told her husband, “It should occur to you that this young man saved our daughter because of the love and decency in his heart for another human being.”

“It's the truth, sir,” Xavier continued. “I feel some kind of way about your daughter.”

“And what does that exactly mean, young man?” Mr. Fox asked, a note of concern in his voice.

Xavier didn't bite his tongue. “I really like her,” he said, smiling.

“Fitzgerald,” Mrs. Fox interrupted. “Xavier has eyes for our daughter,” she said with glee in her voice.

Mr. Fox looked over Xavier from head to toe—his judgment immediate. “Son, you'd better take this little bit of money. My little girl is here for an education—and that's it!”

“Fitzgerald,” Mrs. Fox said disapprovingly. “Where are your manners?”

“I know your kind, young man,” Mr. Fox said.

“My kind?” asked Xavier.

“My daughter is strictly prohibited from talking to
your kind
.” He frowned at his wife. “Wait right here. I'll go and get the car.”

Mrs. Fox waited until her husband was out of the office. “Fitzgerald can be a mess about his little girl. He's extremely protective of our Samantha. But anybody who saved my baby is all right with me.”

“How is Samantha doing?” Xavier asked.

“She's still shaken up but my little baby will pull through.”

He shyly put his head down and asked, “Ma'am, can you give Samantha my number and ask her to call me—I just want her to tell me how she's doing, if you don't mind.”

Mrs. Fox smiled pleasantly. “I sure will.”

Xavier jotted down his number on the back of one of Skinner's business cards and handed it to her.

Mr. Fox walked back into the office. Mrs. Fox was careful to put Xavier's phone number away. The man looked at Xavier with an “are you still here” expression. He ushered his wife out of the office without a backwards glance.