"No, really--"
"Truth is, I'm hungrier than a farmer at sundown. And I haven't had any high school turkey tetrazzini in years. Gonna get me some of that. No trouble to get a second plate. You like milk?"
She debated. "Sure. I'll pay you back."
"We'll put it on the city."
He stepped into the line. Geneva had just turned back to her textbook when she saw a boy look her way and wave. She glanced behind her to see whom he was gesturing at. There was no one else. She gave a faint gasp, realizing that he was indicating her.
Kevin Cheaney was pushing away from the table where he and his homies sat and started loping toward her. Oh, my God! Was he really coming this way? . . . Kevin, a Will Smith look-alike. Perfect lips, perfecter body. The boy who could make a basketball defy gravity, could move like he was a break-dancer competing in a B-Boy Summit show. Kevin was a coal institution at all the jams.
In line, Detective Bell stiffened and started forward but Geneva shook her head that everything was fine.
Which it was. Better than fine. Totally def.
Kevin was destined for Connecticut or Duke on scholarship. Maybe an athletic one--he'd been captain of the team that won last year's PSAL basketball championship. But he could make it on grades too. He didn't have the same love of books and school that Geneva did, maybe, but he was still in the top 5 percent of the class. They knew each other casually--they shared math class this semester and would also find themselves together in the hall or in the school yard from time to time--coincidentally, Geneva told herself. But, okay, fact was that she usually gravitated to where he was standing or sitting.
Most of the down kids ignored or dissed her; Kevin, though, actually said hi from time to time. He'd ask her a question about a math or history assignment, or just pause and talk for a few minutes.
He wasn't asking her out, of course--that'd never happen--but he treated her like a human being.
He'd even walked her home from Langston Hughes one day last spring.
A beautiful, clear day she could still picture as if she had a DVD of it.
April 21.
Normally Kevin would hang with the svelte model wannabees, or the brash girls--the blingstas. (He even flirted with Lakeesha some, which infuriated Geneva, who endured the raging jealousy with a gritty, carefree smile.)
So what was he about now?
"Yo, girl, you down?" he asked, frowning and dropping into a battered chrome chair next to her, stretching out his long legs.
"Yeah." She swallowed, tongue-tied. Her mind was blank.
He said, "I heard 'bout what happened. Man, that was some mad shit, somebody trying to yoke and choke you. I was fretting."
"Yeah?"
"Word."
"It was just weird."
"Long as you okay, that's cool, then."
She felt a wave of heat wash over her face. Kevin was actually saying this to her?
"Why don't you just roll on back at home?" he asked. "Whatcha doing here?"
"Language arts test. Then our math test."
He laughed. "Damn. You down for school, after all that shit?"
"Yeah. Can't miss those tests."
"And you cool with math?"
It was just calc. No big deal. "Yeah, I've got it covered. You know, nothing too heavy."