On the Come Up - Angie Thomas Page 0,78

“What he take, Bri?”

My jaw aches from clenching it so hard. “The chain.”

Aunt Pooh folds her hands on her head. “Shit!”

“The Crown’s been wanting that chain since they killed Law,” Scrap says.

For what? So they could have a trophy for taking my daddy from me?

“I didn’t wanna give it up.” Dammit, my voice cracks. “He had a gun and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Aunt Pooh says. “He held y’all at gunpoint?”

There’s fury in her eyes waiting to spark. I know six words that will light it up.

My own fury makes me say them with ease. “He pointed it in my face.”

Aunt Pooh slowly straightens up. Her face is blank, calm almost. “This ain’t over.”

She marches for the car, her way of telling us to come on. Malik hangs back on the sidewalk.

“You coming?” I ask him.

“No. I’ll walk home. It’s only a couple of blocks.”

Home. Where Aunt ’Chelle’s probably waiting by now. “Hey, um . . . Maybe don’t tell Aunt ’Chelle about this, all right?”

“Are you serious?” Malik says. “You got robbed, Bri! I got a black eye!”

I’m as serious as a heart attack. He tells her, she’ll tell my mom, and my mom will bring a halt to anything Aunt Pooh and I plan to do. “Just don’t, okay?”

“Wait, are you thinking of going after that guy?”

I don’t respond.

“Bri, are you nuts?” Malik says. “You can’t go after him! You’re asking for trouble.”

“Look, I didn’t ask you to help us!” I yell. “I simply said don’t tell her! All right?”

Malik stands as straight as a board. “Yeah,” he says. “Whatever you want. Bri.”

He says my name like it’s a foreign word.

I don’t have time for whatever his problem is. I don’t. I need to get that chain back. I hop in the car. He’s still standing on the sidewalk when we peel off.

Aunt Pooh and Scrap go back and forth about the Crown. Apparently, he’s known as Kane and he likes to race his Camaro on Magnolia. I figure that’s where we’re headed, but Aunt Pooh pulls up in front of my house.

She puts the car in park. “C’mon, Bri.”

She gets out herself and holds her seat forward. I climb out, too. “What are we doing here?” I ask.

Aunt Pooh suddenly hugs me extra tight. She kisses my cheek, then whispers in my ear, “Lay low.”

I push away from her. “No! I wanna go, too!”

“I don’t give a damn what you want. You staying here.”

“But I gotta get that—”

“You wanna die or go to prison, Bri? Either a Crown will kill you in retaliation, or somebody will snitch and the cops will take you down. That’s all that can come from this.”

Shit. She’s right. But suddenly it hits me—

She could get killed. She could get arrested.

Forget a spark. I’ve lit a bomb that will explode any second.

No, no, no. “Aunty, forget about it. He’s not worth—”

“Fuck that! Don’t nobody come at my family!” she says. “They took my brother, and then one points a gun at you, and I’m supposed to let that shit go? Hell nah!”

“You can’t kill him!”

“What the hell you call me for then?”

“I . . . I didn’t . . .”

“You could’ve called your momma, you could’ve called Trey, hell, you could’ve called the cops. Instead, you called me. Why?”

Deep down, I know why. “Because—”

“Because you knew I’d handle him,” she says through her teeth. “So, let me do what I do.”

She heads for her car.

“Aunt Pooh,” I croak. “Please?”

“Go inside, Bri.”

That’s the last thing she says before she speeds off.

Now I know why I called her. Not because I wanted her to handle him. But because I needed her.

I drag myself up the walkway and unlock the front door. Jay and Trey’s voices drift from the kitchen as some nineties R&B plays on the stereo. A creaky floorboard announces me.

“Bri, is that you?” my mom calls.

Thank God she doesn’t peer around the kitchen doorway. I don’t think my face can hide what just happened. I clear my throat. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Okay. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“I, um . . .” My voice weakens. I clear my throat again. “I ate at Malik’s.”

“Probably a bunch of junk food, knowing you three,” she says. “I’ll put a plate up for you.”

I manage to get out an “Okay” before I make it to my bedroom.

I close the door. I just wanna hide under my covers, but my bed feels miles away. I lower myself in the corner and pull my knees up to my chest, which feels like it’s gonna cave

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