Lovers & Haters (14 page)

It was eight in the evening when Xavier got off the phone with Billy. The old goat had put Xavier up on game. Made him think in ways that he hadn't before

Xavier sat back at his desk in the comfort of a leather office chair. He had come a long way from the cluttered little bedroom with a barely working throwback color television. His new room housed a nice leather sleigh bed, a jumbo-sized flat screen, a wood chest, and a walk-in closet of expensive gear to rock. He also had plenty of money in his pockets. Zulu had his back at Coleman and now the school was his. There were a few small fires to put out in the form of rebellious crews who didn't, and wouldn't, acknowledge Xavier and Zulu, but they would all be handled.

Just then, Xavier's cell phone rang. It was a text from Romello.

This text message was nothing new. It was communicating to the crew to meet up at the usual spot at 2
A.M.
This time Slick Eddie had put in a special order for a couple of European joints. The makes, models, and locations were to be discussed later in private. Xavier knew exactly what this meant—that Slick Eddie needed cars ASAP and his scouts had tracked a location. Which meant the job was spur of the moment with no time for planning. Preparation was everything when it came to the trade. The usual channel was Eddie putting in the order and leaving Xavier, Romello, and the crew alone to do the legwork. It rendered them the freedom to move about without anybody—including Slick Eddie—knowing where the sting would go down. This way Eddie couldn't pull a fast one and have them set up. Even though the man was supposed to be Romello's guy, Xavier didn't trust him. They knew too much of Eddie's business and the man hadn't gotten as far as he was by being stupid, or honest.

Xavier didn't like to be pressed to do anything. Besides, the lie that he'd told Samantha was still haunting him. How long could he keep up the charade until the truth came crashing down over his head? Xavier wanted to be everything for Samantha. That would include giving up his night gig and going straight. Could he do it? He had achieved everything he'd set out to accomplish, anyway. The family was doing well, his brother was safe, and plus, he had received a few material goods from the hustle. But what about Zulu? Having that kind of muscle working for you was a big plus. Nobody would step to Xavier with conflict. If he quit the crew, then the bargain he had with Romello would probably disintegrate. There would be no more Zulu muscle, which would mean no more safe hallways at school. The decision wasn't gonna be easy. Then there was the pact he'd made with Slick Eddie. Eddie would want blood if Xavier tried to roll out.

The struggle was on, and at least for now, Xavier was stuck. The reality was that he had dug himself too far in the hole to try and step out to a normal life without boosting cars. His mother had gotten spoiled by his power to earn a few dollars. She would once again be all over his back like body hair if the cash flow dried up—not to mention the rent agreement she'd signed to the tune of one thousand a month. The popcorn crumbs she earned at her Walmart gig wouldn't put a dent in their post-ghetto household expenses. He could see it now: Ne Ne would be trying her best to tear his head off with whatever she could find. It wouldn't take too much of her begging Billy to move back into the old crib. Aside from her pride suffering contusions, she would be no worse for wear. The concern was for the safety of Xavier's baby brother. Apollo was probably just aching to get his hands on Alfonso in retaliation for what Xavier did.

Xavier decided that he would stay on the crew, at least until he made other arrangements. But he wasn't going out tonight. He had a bad feeling about it. Xavier wouldn't share the five-alarm warning he was feeling inside himself with Romello. Just in case it was only paranoia, he didn't want to speak a “jinx” into existence. Not that it would dissuade Romello from going out anyway. The boy would just simply clown Xavier for being paranoid.

Whatever,
Xavier thought.

Romello sent a second text. This one was asking Xavier if he ever considered selling E pills in school. Xavier didn't even reply to the message. Romello was crazy if he thought Xavier was going to push that poison to students. It would go against the grain of everything that he was trying to accomplish. Romello had to be smoking crack to even text some nonsense like that to Xavier.

“Big brah,” Alfonso said, popping his coconut into his brother's bedroom door. “You got a minute?”

“Just the little worm I want to holler at.”

“Mind if we talk in my room?”

“Let's do the damn thang.”

Moving into a better house had Ne Ne all uppity with it. House rules stated no one was to be in her crib wearing shoes. The bone-colored carpeting was plush, and to be on them with sneakers was just asking for a Ne Ne inflicted concussion. In stocking feet, the two brothers walked down a short hallway surrounded by freshly painted walls and into Alfonso's room.

Xavier took a seat on the unmade bed, leaving Alfonso to stand, leaning with his back against the dresser.

“Do you ever think about him?” Alfonso asked Xavier, frustration seeming to creep into his face, bringing sadness with it.

Xavier wasn't clear on exactly who “him” was. Alfonso's ability to express himself was limited because of his Asperger's syndrome. Anxiety and depression and frustration were byproducts of the condition—stands to reason Alfonso couldn't make friends easily.

“Alfonso, who are you talking about?”

“You know,
him
.”

Xavier relaxed and tried not to look stressed. It would be a wrap if Alfonso felt like Xavier was being impatient. He would shut down and retreat into the safe haven of his PlayStation 3
Scarface: The World Is Yours
video game. The ruthless kingpin would once again become his best friend, and the only one he could count on to whisk him away.

“Alfonso,” Xavier persisted, “who are you talking about?”

Alfonso cast his face downward and released a lonely tear from the corner of his right eye. “Daddy, X—our daddy.”

Xavier got up from the bed and consoled his grief-stricken brother with a warm embrace.

“Yeah, Alfonso, I think about Dad all the time.”

Alfonso sniffled. “Ne Ne is mean. She always talks about him bad. She says he left us.”

Xavier didn't really know what to believe. Sometimes Ne Ne went to the extreme in crucifying their father. Something wasn't right and Xavier knew it. His mother would always bad-mouth the old dude, and then, with the next breath, praise herself for being a good mother because she hadn't abandoned them like he had.

“Do you think it's really possible to abandon somebody while you are locked up in prison, Alfonso?”

The young boy quit sniffling and his tears dried up almost instantly. Some type of weird hope contorted his face into a lethargic smile.

“Dad will come back for us, don't you worry,” Xavier assured.

“Are you sure?”

Xavier released his brother and playfully shoved him onto the bed and began tickling Alfonso.

“S-t-o-p, you punk.” Alfonso tried to scream, but uncontrollable laughter overcame his plea.

“Yeah, you little knucklehead. Now get this room cleaned up.” Xavier stopped tickling and picked up a pair of dingy, balled up sweat socks and softly beaned Alfonso in the dome with them.

“You cock-a-roach,” Alfonso said, using his best Tony Montana accent.

“Whatever, you little chump. I don't know what's stopping you from achieving at your new school, and I know you can do it. But let one more behavior report make it past the front door and it's gonna be me and you, buddy.” Xavier moved toward the bedroom door.

He held the doorknob in his hand and had the door halfway closed when Alfonso said, “Thank you, Daddy—big brother.”

A gaggle of goose bumps walked across Xavier's skin. The warmness inside his heart sent a memo to his brain revealing a truth that would never be replaced no matter how hard times became. Xavier had been given the tremendous responsibility of shepherding his brother through a fatherless world. It was a job that Xavier would perform with intense pride.

 

Xavier was asleep in his bed when his cell phone started vibrating on his nightstand. He opened his sleepy eyes and stared at the clock.

3
A.M.
in the morning,
he thought.
Who in the hell could be trying to get at him at this hour?
He rolled over in the bed slowly and reached over to retrieve his cell. Xavier yawned and peeked at the caller ID. It was Romello. He answered.

“What you need, homeboy?” he asked in a dazed voice.

“Go Go and Arson just got popped by the cops!” Romello hysterically yelled into the phone.

Xavier shot up in the bed with his eyes bucked wide open now. “What? How?”

“I can't get into that right now. We'll kick it in the school cafeteria at lunch tomorrow. Peace out.”

Xavier had been afraid something like this would happen. It was why he didn't go out on the raid tonight. He'd had a feeling in the pit of his gut that something wasn't right. Thank God he'd followed his instincts. Because if he hadn't, he'd probably be locked up with Go Go and Arson right now.

T
he cafeteria was alive with student gossip, jokes, and laughter. Some sat quietly with heads buried in books at tables on the outer rim of the lunchroom. Boys and girls stood patiently in the lunch line to be served, while those who'd already received their grub were table hopping to sit with their friends.

Xavier, Tyson, Romello, and Alex sat at a table in the corner, isolated from the others. Dutch Westwood had come to school this morning, popping mess as usual. Apparently he was still pissed about the way Zulu had taken over Coleman High and left his crew, Go Hard, in the dust. Nobody was allowed to sell drugs, but that rule didn't apply to Dutch. He was his own man and nobody was gonna stop his paper. As long as students were feeling his product, then he was gonna push it. Regardless of what Zulu was trying to do at Coleman High.

Westwood had openly declared war on anybody trying to stop his flow and didn't seem the least bit concerned about not having enough knuckle to step inside the battle zone with Zulu.

As a precautionary measure, outside Zulu members could be seen popping in and out of the lunchroom. The back door had been strategically left open for this purpose. Most of Westwood's soldiers were made up of Coleman students. This gave him a sizable advantage on Zulu inside the school.

Some of the husky players from the football team picked up in areas of the school where outside Zulu troops couldn't gain access. The players made up a third of the offensive line, big hulks who protected the quarterback, sometimes by breaking the bones of the opposition. They would serve Xavier in a similar capacity. Outside the school was totally different. Westwood and his goons were outnumbered.

And according to the phone call Xavier had received at three in the morning, Zulu was down two soldiers. This was the purpose of the meeting. Not too many details were discussed over cell phones.

“Now tell me exactly what happened when Go Go and Arson got pinched?” Xavier asked Romello.

“It was like five-o just came out of nowhere, dude,” Alex said.

“Yeah, X, it was like they knew we were coming,” Romello added. His eyes were wide and stained by the redness that said he had not been able to sleep. “As soon as Arson and Go Go jumped the BMW and started driving, red and blue police lights were on them.”

“Cop cars started rolling from everywhere and blocked them in,” Tyson explained. “Slamming on their brakes, jumping out with heat drawn, and yelling for the homeys to stop the car.”

“Me and Romello were sitting at a distance,” Alex explained. “We couldn't do anything but jet, fam. Damn—Go Go and Arson.”

“With their juvie records they can't afford to go back to the youth home,” Romello said “The judge told both of them that if they came before him again, they wouldn't leave juvie until they turned eighteen.”

Xavier had been afraid of this very thing happening. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he suspected it was a setup. He couldn't be sure, though. Was it Slick Eddie?

Xavier had to find a way to get out of Romello's crew. The bloodhounds were getting closer and he could feel them barking up his backside. It was just a matter of time before the police came knocking on his door and pulled him out of the house in his underwear and put the cold bracelets around his wrists and stuffed him into the back of a police car, with all the neighbors watching.

“X, what are you thinking, dog?” Alex asked.

Xavier was lost in thought as he watched the lunchroom crowd. The door on the far right of the cafeteria opened. In strolled Samantha and her girlfriends—Jennifer and Tracy—and they walked up to the lunch line in a group with other students.

“X,” Romello said. “Dude, how we gonna handle this?”

Xavier looked at Romello. “No worries. I'm sure all of us should have a little something put away. I mean, we've been working hard since November and should have a few dollars put up—you know, lawyer fees. We can throw our pots together and cop the guys a couple of good attorneys.”

It was at that point that Romello looked away like he was guilty of overspending and not saving a slug. He let the fingers of his right hand drum out a steady cadence of nervous guilt on the table before him.

“Romello, you do have some loot stored away, don't you?” Xavier probed his boy.

It took a while for Romello to respond. “You know I gotta look fly for the honeys, don't I?”

“Romello, you stupid,” Alex said.

“Man, how are you not going to save any bread?” Xavier asked.

“Don't worry about it. I have a way that we can come up on endless paper, big homey.” Romello sat back in his chair with a scheming look on his face.

“What you talking about?” Alex asked Romello.

“Come on, guys. We have this whole school locked up. Zulu has come and straight put the mash down. We have too much muscle at our disposal not to be doing something with it. I got this guy who's waiting to put us down with some E pills. X, the way that these kids are craving the hot thrill, man, the school is wide open. We could be rich. Straight wiping our behinds with hundred-dollar bills.”

“Now you're getting greedy,” Xavier said. “What about our deal? You know, the one that we made if I went to work with y'all boosting cars, that Zulu would help take our school back from all of those fake fools that were making it unsafe here at Coleman.”

“I know what I said!” Romello raised his voice, but caught himself after he started gaining attention.

“Calm down, Romello,” Alex interjected. “I might be a D student, but Xavier is right, man. It is kind of peaceful around here since we put the smack down. If you want to sell that stuff, go out and build a clientele on the outside. Don't be responsible for killing anybody at Coleman with your get-rich-quick schemes.”

“Unbelievable,” said Romello. “Go Go and Arson are about to rot away in jail on stolen car charges and we have the opportunity to make some serious chips to bail them out, and you guys don't want to help our friends?”

“This is not about Go Go and Arson, Romello, and you know it,” Xavier said. “So are you going back on your word?”

“Come on, man,” Alex butted in. “We have to stick together. We've made a lot of enemies to be fighting among ourselves.”

Romello stared at the both of them as he pulled in his lips and let out a frustrated breath. “I'm a man of my word. But this school stuff, I'm not down with. I can't remember the last time I turned in an assignment. Don't care about it. Paper comes before any of this.”

“Romello, we can make this work. We have—”

“X, give it a rest. I'm not you, dog. You're smart, but for me—making bread is my only way out of the ghetto.”

“How about if we boost more cars?” Alex offered. “You can really stack some paper until we figure out another way. But last night—last night was a close call, man.”

“Yeah, I'm sure we can do something,” Romello said with fake enthusiasm.

Samantha and her girls approached the table.

“Xavier,” Samantha said, holding an apple and a bottle of water. “I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”

“Let me answer that,” Romello said. “No. Can't you see we're busy?”

“Yes. I can tell,” Tracy McIntyre said. “Just one big meeting of the minds at this table.”

“You got jokes?” Alex asked Tracy. “Shut up with your apple head.”

“Half breed,” Tracy retorted.

“No you didn't go there,” Alex said, smiling. “You think you're cute, Tracy, but you look like something that crawled out of the Detroit River.” Alex and the rest of the guys started laughing.

“That wasn't funny,” Jennifer said.

“I knew you guys were savage, but not complete cavemen,” Samantha said. “Xavier, can I talk to you?”

“Okay,” he said.

They sneaked into a small, empty classroom two doors down from the cafeteria for a little privacy. Xavier perched his big body on a desktop. “What's going on, my queen?”

When Samantha laughed, her dimples stretched into sexy grooves of deliciousness. “I was thinking and going to the mall with you was cool but how about we go on a real date?”

“I'm with it,” Xavier responded with pure joy in his voice.

“Okay, Your Majesty, you couldn't have possibly responded any faster.” Samantha laughed.

Xavier said, “Here you go again with trying to clown on me.”

“Okay, I apologize,” Samantha said. “But you know, Xavier, my jokes are funny.”

He took Samantha in his arms, almost melting being so close to her charm and flat-out cover girl beauty. Her gorgeous mane hung around her shoulders, and Apple Bottoms jeans hugged and accentuated her curves.

“No, you're not funny,” Xavier said. “You're beautiful. And your butt is flat-out crazy—I love it.”

They looked into each other's eyes and kissed each other.

Samantha said, “My father's blood pressure would run high if he saw who I was hugging right now.”

“Your old man would be all right if somebody helped him remove that pole that's stuck up his butt.”

Samantha laughed and playfully hit Xavier on the shoulder. “My father does not have a pole stuck up his butt.”

“Yes, he does. He walks like it, too.”

“I can't wait to meet your family so I can talk about them like you do mine.”

Xavier was playing like he hadn't heard anything Samantha said. His eyes were transfixed on her forehead.

“So you're gonna play like you didn't hear me?”

“Dang, girl,” Xavier finally spoke up. “God gave you a double portion of forehead.”

“Cut your crap. That's not even funny.”

“Let's talk about where we're going Friday night.”

“Friday night, I—”

“You have something to do Friday night?”

“No, but—”

“Daddy won't let you out of the house?”

She punched his shoulder again. “Stop calling him that.”

“That's what you call him.”

“I know, but when you say it, it sounds so—”

“Fake?”

“Exactly.”

“Where do you want to go?” Xavier asked. “We can go to the Birmingham Palladium Theater.”

Samantha's light-skinned, pretty face almost lost its color. “No. Any theater but that one.”

“Why not that one?” Xavier asked straight up.

“Well . . . umm . . . can't we pick another theater, Xavier?”

Xavier released her from his embrace. “Why can't you go to the Birmingham Palladium Theater?”

“I live out that way.”

“Oh. Enough said. I'm not trying to run into your old man.” Xavier thought about it for a while. “Well, I have an idea,” he said, smiling devilishly. “You said that you wanted to get a little peek into my world. Meet my family. How about getting that dude who drives you around to bring you over to my crib?”

Watching her struggle with the idea of coming into the city was amusing. “I wish you could see your face. It looks like somebody asked you to live without your iPhone. I can tell you don't have a ghetto pass.”

“I'm tough, Xavier. And I do have a ghetto pass. I've shopped at Northland Center before.”

Xavier almost broke a rib laughing at her. “Oh, you're real tough. Nothing says female gang member like taking a dangerous stroll in a mall inside Southfield.”

“Have you seen the place lately, Xavier? Dim lighting, dingy walls, hoodlums and weirdos roaming the hallways. Yes, it would make a great place to film a horror movie. I would say that would be enough to give me street cred.”

“If you want me to sign off on your gangsta, you're going to have to come into my neighborhood,” Xavier said, his voice low and trying to make the trip sound dangerous. The new house sat in a decent neighborhood and he knew it. He just wanted to see how much she liked him. To get a rich girl to vacate the security that her father's extremely fat wallet afforded, and step into the lowly streets of the working class would show Xavier she was really serious.

“Oh, don't try and test me,
boo-boo
.”

Xavier wanted to laugh her right out of the room. “That was the worst homegirl impersonation I've ever seen. Do me a favor and never do that again, all right?”

“Just tell me the time, Xavier.” The way the lip gloss hugged the contour of her lips when she smiled set fire to Xavier's imagination. She was so hot it was blasting him into the stratosphere of raging teenage hormones.

“I'll text it to you.”

Xavier and Samantha didn't get three steps outside the classroom door when Doug approached them. The head of security was dressed in a dark flannel shirt and jeans.

“Young people,” he said. “Do we have hall passes?”

“‘We' are having a senile moment, old dude,” Xavier said, a mischievous smile on his face. He threw Samantha under the bus. “Doug, you know I belong in the lunchroom this period, but her I don't know. Watch out for her because she's a troublemaker.”

Doug smiled knowingly. “Mr. Hunter, why are you trying to play her out? Isn't this the same young lady I saw you stalking through the door of her dance class? Matter of fact, I had to escort you away.”

Samantha affectionately pinched Xavier's right bicep. “Doug knows that I belong in lunch this hour, Xavier.” She looked at Doug and offered a smile. “How are you doing today, Mr. Banks?”

“Wonderful.” Doug gave a quick glance inside the classroom the two students had just walked out of. “How about you?”

“Doing quite well,” she answered.

“You apparently don't know this rule, but no student is allowed in the classroom unattended by a teacher. And just because I know that y'all are responsible young adults, I'm willing to overlook your subtle violation of said rule. Just don't let it happen again.”