“You know how it is, baby. Gotta keep working.”
I stiffened. “I know, Mama.”
“But enough about me, tell me all about you. How is school? Did you pick a college yet?”
“I’m still weighing up my options, but my guidance counselor is going to help me before school gets out for the holidays.”
“That’s good, baby, real good. Mi pequeña graduating high school and going off to college. I couldn’t be prouder if I tried.”
“I haven’t been accepted yet, Mama.”
She grunted. “They’d be foolish to turn you down, baby. Always were booksmart.”
“So I was thinking,” I hesitated, bracing myself for her response. “Maybe I could visit over the holidays. Just for a few days?”
“Mya, baby, you know that isn’t a good idea.”
“I haven’t spoken to him. I’ve ignored all his texts, just like I promised. But I miss you. I miss you so much, Mama. And Shona and the girls.”
“He’s still calling you?”
“Texts mainly.”
“I don’t like it, Mya. I don’t like it at all. Maybe I should talk to Keelan and—”
“No, Mama, you can’t. You promised,” I cried, fear edging into my voice.
“Ssh, baby. You’re right, that wouldn’t end well. But I wish you’d change your number. Be done with him once and for all.”
“I am done. It’s over.” My chest cracked.
Silence followed.
A beat.
Another.
Until Mom let out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to tell you, but you should know, Jermaine dropped out of school.”
“No!”
School was his last hope. The one place he had people anchoring him to something more than a life of drugs, gangs, and an early grave.
Not the only thing. I shut down the little voice. I’d tried… and failed. Walking away from Jermaine was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but it wasn’t only about him anymore. It was about me too. My life, my dreams.
My safety.
“He’s running for Diaz officially.”
That’s what Shona must have called to tell me. Jermaine was in deep with Diaz and his crew now.
Guilt snaked through me. When I’d left, Jermaine was still in school. He still had a chance. But if he’d initiated into Diaz’s crew, there would be no easy way out now. Tears pooled in my eyes as I remembered our last conversation, right before Mom shipped me off to Rixon.
“Fuck, Mya, baby, you weren’t supposed to be there… you weren’t supposed to get hurt.” He tried to cradle my face, but I jerked back, shielding my bruised cheek with my hand.
“Don’t touch me,” I ground out shakily, pain radiating from various parts of my body.
“But I need you… I need you, Mya. I always need you.”