Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(5)

Maaaan . . . a’ight, she got me there. When King Jr. was first born, he didn’t look like anybody. All newborns resemble aliens to me. After a couple of weeks, he got eyes, nose, and lips similar to mine. King was nowhere to be found. Baby boy don’t resemble Iesha either.

That’s why King stopped dealing with Iesha altogether. She wanna prove to him that I ain’t the father and asked me to take a DNA test. So, here we are. Unless I got the worst luck in the world, ain’t no way that baby mine.

My beeper go off on my waist, and Mr. Wyatt’s number appear. That’s our next-door neighbor. I cut his front yard every week. He probably want me to do it today. I’ll have to hit him up later.

Ma watch me with a smile. “You think you something ’cause you got a pager, huh?”

I laugh. I bought this joint two months ago. Got it in that blue ice you can see through. Flyer than a mug. “Nah, Ma. Never.”

“How’s business going?” she asks. “How many yards are you doing now?”

Ma think I make money by cutting grass around the neighborhood. I do, but I make even more by selling drugs. The whole yard-cutting thing help to keep her in the dark. When she see me rocking new kicks or clothes, I act like I got them for cheap at the swap meet instead of the mall. I hate that I can lie to her so good.

“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m at around ten yards right now. Tryna get as many as I can before it gets cold.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll find something else to do. Lord knows babies aren’t cheap. You’ll figure out how to make it work.”

I won’t have to. That baby ain’t mine.

The clinic door open, and Ms. Robinson come in. She hold the door open for somebody else. “Bring your fast behind in here!”

Iesha walk in, rolling her eyes. She got a baby bag on her shoulder and hold a car seat in her hand. Li’l man asleep inside it. His fist rest against his head, and his eyebrows all wrinkled, like he thinking something deep in his dreams.

“Hey, Faye,” Ms. Robinson says to Ma. “Sorry we late.”

Ma goes, “Mmm-hmm.” It ain’t approval or judgment. Then she look at me, like she expect me to do something. I stare back, all confused.

“Boy, give Iesha your seat,” Ma says.

“Oh! My bad.” I hop up. Ma stay on me ’bout being a gentleman.

Iesha take my chair and set the car seat at her feet. Ma suddenly starstruck.

“Aww, look at that little man,” she says in a voice she only use on babies. “He knocked out, huh?”

“Finally,” says Iesha. “Kept me up all night.”

“Ain’t like you had nowhere to go,” Ms. Robinson snips. “Miss I-Skip-Summer-School-to-Chase-Some-Boy.”

“Oh my God,” Iesha groans.

“He’ll sleep through the night soon,” Ma says. “Maverick didn’t sleep through the night until he was five months old. It was like he needed to know what was going on all the time.”

“He the exact same way,” Ms. Robinson says, eyeing me.

She can look at me all she want. That don’t make him mine.

Li’l man whine in the car seat.

Iesha sighs. “What now?”

“He probably wants his pacifier, baby,” Ma says.

Iesha put it in his mouth, and he suddenly good.

I study Iesha real hard. She got bags under her eyes she didn’t have before. “Anybody helping you with him?”

“Help?” her momma says, like I cussed. “Who supposed to help her? Me?”

“C’mon now, Yolanda,” says Ma. “This is a lot for anyone to handle, let alone a seventeen-year-old.”

“T’uh! She wanna act grown, she can deal with this like she grown. By. Her. Self.”

Iesha blink real fast.

I’m feeling real bad for her all of a sudden. “If he is mine, you won’t be doing this alone no more, a’ight? I’ll come over and help as much as I can.”

Five seconds ago, she looked ready to cry. Now she smirk at me. “Oh, word? Your girlfriend gon’ be cool with that?”

I don’t know how Lisa gon’ react. I figured if the baby wasn’t mine, she didn’t need to know ’bout any of this. If he is mine . . . “Don’t worry ’bout her,” I tell Iesha.

“Oh, I ain’t worried. You should be. Her stuck-up ass gon’ drop you quick.”

“Ay, don’t talk ’bout her like that!”

“Whatever. All them girls at Garden High who drool over you, and you go for the bougie Catholic-school girl. It’s all good. My baby ain’t yours. Soon as these results come back, I’m taking him to his real daddy, and we gon’ be a family. Watch.”

“Iesha Robinson!” the nurse calls.

We all look that way.

This is it.

“Go on,” Ms. Robinson tells Iesha.

Iesha get up, sighing outta her nose. “This so stupid.”

“What’s stupid is that two boys could be the daddy!” her momma calls after her. “That’s what’s stupid!”

Well, damn. Do me and Ma get into it? Hell yeah, all the time. But not in public like this.

Iesha come back and shove the envelope into her momma’s hand. “Bet I’m right. Bet!”