Game On (18 page)

27

XAVIER

 

A
s he sat at his desk in English class, Xavier's knee was killing him.

Dude kept on having nightmares last night. Every last one was about him jumping out of a window, but instead of surviving the fall, this time he wasn't so lucky. Xavier continued to divide his attention between Chase and the door. Homeboy was nervous and highly paranoid, not knowing if five-o had a make on his mug. It hadn't crossed his mind that the two boys might snitch on him. It would be his word against theirs, though. He tried to put it out of his mind.

Xavier couldn't concentrate on anything his teacher was saying. Kept on staring at the door and thinking that the same police that had nabbed Hustle and Gameboy yesterday could eventually come for him by using the same tactic. At any minute, Xavier expected Mr. Chase's closed classroom door to be blasted off its hinges and po-po to enter, swarming, and dragging his carcass out in handcuffs. It would be like his plan had come back to bite him in the butt. Although he understood his purpose for being at the spot, the police would probably think it was a complete crock. Nobody operating with a sane mind would enter a drug den that pumped prescription pills into a dying neighborhood to shadow his friend. Keep an eye on him.

Samantha crossed his mind, but as quickly as she appeared, he pushed away the thought. Xavier was far too busy with anxiety to even go there.

Chase walked over to retrieve worksheets on “proper research techniques” from his desk and was back in front of the class, handing them out.

“Today is the deadline on declaring a topic,” Chase said as he passed a stack of worksheets out to the first person in the third row. “Pass those back, Mr. Harvey.”

“X,” Dex said, sitting at the next desk. “Psst, X.”

“What, homeboy?” Xavier answered in a whisper.

“Linus Flip been around the school looking for you—attitude and everything. What's up with 'im? We gonna have to go upside his head or what?”

Xavier was straight tripping now. Nobody knew anything about Xavier's phone call to the police . . . or did they?

Mr. Chase was finishing up with the last row. “Dexter Baxter, maybe you should make sure that your topic will hold your attention so that it will hold mine. Perhaps you may like to share your thoughts with the class on how to write the perfect research paper.”

Dexter waved Mr. Chase off. “Nah, I think I'll keep those techniques to myself. I'm a pretty stingy guy.”

Mr. Chase smiled. “Remember, young people, this paper will count for seventy-five percent of your grade. Do not wait until the last week to start working on this project because the quality will tell off on you.”

Damn,
Xavier thought. He'd been so busy with Flip's welfare that he'd seriously forgotten to choose a topic for the research paper. This was jacked up. He had to come up with something and quick.

“Mr. Hunter, I would like to see you after class,” the teacher said to Xavier. “And for the rest of you, I will be collecting your topics as you head out the door.”

There was a lot on Xavier's plate. He wanted to score high on the research paper, go out with a bang. He had to pass Mr. Chase's class. That was a must, period. He'd come too far to let it all slip away because of a crummy research paper. Bullet wound in the shoulder. People had been trying to put him in a body bag since the tenth grade but he was still standing. Dude had gone through hell to get to this point. Not walking across the stage to receive his diploma wasn't even an option. A winning essay would be sweet icing on the cake, though—money, a publishing contract, he couldn't ask for anything better.

 

Xavier was walking down the hall on the third floor when he came across a huge billboard advertising the Christmas Eve dance program. The piece was a stand-alone in a corner not too far from the girls' lavatory. He knew that there had to be some hatin' going on between the girls in the play. Samantha's gorgeous face stood out and was the only one visible on the poster. The rest were just bodies in the background. The happiness Xavier felt for his ex was genuine. Samantha had worked hard and deserved her dance solo. It definitely looked like his ex-girlfriend was well on her way to fulfilling her dream of becoming a superstar dance choreographer.

“Quit drooling, you bum,” Dexter said, walking up behind Xavier. “Too bad. You've lost her forever. Since she doesn't want to be down with your team anymore, would you be mad if I took a run at her?”

Xavier playfully pushed Dexter. “I hate to bust your bubble, homeboy, but you're not even in her league.”

Dexter retaliated. “If I recall, you weren't either. You were just a ghetto boy toy to make her rich daddy mad. I'm gonna keep it real with you. They have a name for cats like you: stalker. You stalked the digits out of her. Straight up intimidated the poor little rich girl into going out with you, monkey boy.”

Students had started to thin out in the hallway. The two boys had just enough time to get to the lunchroom before the tardy bell rang. They laughed and joked on the way down. Xavier couldn't do anything but smile when he saw Dakota working the far end of the hallway, still handing out flyers to remind everyone that bullying wouldn't be tolerated and had no place in society.

Xavier and Dexter stepped into the lunchroom. An angry Linus Flip didn't waste any time confronting him.

Flip said in a chin-checking type of tone, “Yo, what happened, dog? Kids telling me you broke and ran without telling them what was going down—left 'em hangin'.”

Xavier stepped right in his grill. “Whoa. Check yourself, homeboy, and watch your tone when you talk to me.”

Dexter was about to go in on Flip but Xavier waved him silent.

The lunchroom was crowded and noisy. But due to the fact that punches weren't thrown, nobody was really paying any attention.

Linus looked away, as if to taper his anger. “You were supposed to be watchin' their backs. Nothin' like that should've happened. Hustle and Gameboy got knocked. Now I have to find a way to raise some loot to hire an attorney. Instead of getting ahead I've gotten farther in the hole.”

The old Xavier would've been straight ripping on dude. Probably would've smacked him twice by now. He'd grown up a lot since then, though, a long way from those old push-yo'-wig-back days.

Xavier said to Linus, “Your boys got popped because they weren't about business. I saw the hook coming, ran downstairs to tell them, but they had that doggone Xbox game up so loud that they couldn't hear. It was too late then. The police knocked down the door and was on us so fast that my only reaction was to run. I ended up jumping out of a second-story window to get away.” Xavier didn't feel right deceiving his friend. But it was a necessary evil.

Flip looked like he wanted to cry. “Man, y'all done jacked my stuff up.” He wiped the perspiration from his brow. “I needed that bread, fam. Like yesterday. Got bills to pay.”

Somehow Xavier wouldn't let himself feel Flip's pain. The way he saw it was that Linus should've been in jail anyway for even running a joint that dealt death. Linus was his homeboy, though. And if it hadn't been for Flip's courage a year ago, Xavier would've been killed. As far as he was concerned Linus was his hero and Xavier would do whatever to keep the boy safe, even if it was from himself.

Linus continued to look distraught. “I can't believe you fools messed this up for me.”

Dexter wanted to know, “Do you trust those two knuckleheads not to snitch on you?”

Flip looked at Dex like he didn't have any street sense. “Those two aren't snitches. They're solid. I can vouch for them.”

Just hearing
snitch
didn't sit well in Xavier's stomach.

“Needed that money bad, though,” Flip whined, “don't know what to do now.” He looked like at any minute the tears would start falling. “I'm outta here. Don't know when I'll be back.”

Dexter was curious. “What you mean by that, homeboy?”

Linus Flip looked Dexter off. “School is not important for me right now. I gotta get on my dirty.”

Xavier and Dexter watched Linus walk away still mumbling to himself.

Dexter was blunt. “Yo, homeboy, what was that about?”

Xavier continued to watch Flip. “A long story, my dude. Flip's overreacting, as usual. Probably been drinking—who knows. But it's all good. Let's go get some lunch.”

28

SAMANTHA

 

“Y
oung people,” the teacher said, addressing her dance troupe. “Give yourselves a big round of applause. You guys were superb and I'm so proud of each and every one of you.”

Everybody within the sound of her voice let off with a rousing ovation.

The dance program “Snowflakes in Wonderland” had been a tremendous success. It had been standing room only in the school auditorium. All the girls had done a tremendous job, but Samantha's dance solo had been flawless and received a standing ovation. The Juilliard rep had shown as promised. Samantha just figured that since the school hadn't given her the okay yet, that, maybe the school was still trying to come to a decision. Whatever. She'd put the thought out of her mind and had offered a wonderful performance.

Backstage was chaotic. People were everywhere. Parents stood with their little children for photo ops with the dancers. Some of the dancers were standing around in groups, showing off their flowers, laughing, and joking about their performances. There was even a news reporter out covering the event.

Samantha was standing around her parents, one arm filled with two dozen freshly cut long-stem red roses.

Jennifer's folks were with her. They'd brought her roses and were singing her praises.

Sean Desmond stood in the shadows with his goons so as not to draw attention and upstage the dance troupe. If the newshounds found out that the superstar Detroit Tigers rookie was on scene, they'd try to track him down to get a story. Tracy was close by Sean's side, with her jaws tight and hating every moment of Samantha's shine.

“You guys put on a great show,” Mr. Fox said to his daughter. “Baby, your dance solo was sensational.”

Mrs. Fox was soaking it up, tears in her eyes. “Samantha, your mother is so proud of you.” She hugged her. “My little girl has grown up to be a beautiful, talented young woman. God has lined up great things for you. Continue to make us proud, my child.”

Samantha hugged her mother and they were both in tears. “You are the best mother in the world and I'm so happy that God placed me with you guys.”

Mr. Fox looked like he was a little jealous. “Can an old man get some love too? I mean, I think I had a little something to do with you being here, young lady.”

Jennifer walked over. “Samantha, we have to go out and celebrate.”

Mrs. Fox said, “Oh yes, we've already made reservations at Samantha's favorite restaurant—my treat.”

Sean Desmond slithered over. “I think Samantha and I would like to be alone. I have a helicopter set up to take us to dinner.”

His statement totally caught everybody by surprise. The look on her mother's face was priceless.

Mr. Fox was a little caught off guard by Sean's boldness. He was slow to say, “Yes, of course. You young folks have some celebrating to do.”

Samantha wanted badly to tell her father that Sean wasn't the nice guy he was trying to portray. The boy was crazy and had made multiple threats against her parents if she didn't go along with his insanity. She was horrified. Samantha didn't know what he was capable of. She was totally alone. Going to the police would all but seal her parents' fate. Plus, Sean was escalating. Whenever they were together, he kept trying to kiss her or touch her, but she wasn't having any of that. So far, she'd managed to fight off his advances. Samantha believed that the only reason Sean hadn't tried anything more was because of loose women like her friend Tracy McIntyre. But he wanted Samantha. His desire chilled her to the bone. The look in his eyes told her that he was running out of patience. She had to do something to end his reign of terror.

Samantha's mother spoke up. “Baby, are you all right with a helicopter ride?”

Samantha didn't even look at Sean. She would've burst into tears. “Yes, Mother. I'm all right with it. Always wanted to take a ride in a helicopter.”

Mrs. Fox had this look on her face like she didn't believe it for one minute.

Samantha walked off with Sean before her mother had a chance to say anything else.

Jennifer said to Samantha's fleeting back, “Don't forget to call me in the morning, girl.”

Samantha had a bad feeling in her gut about tonight.

Where was her Xavier?

29

XAVIER

 

D
espite it being Christmas Eve, Xavier was in his bedroom jotting down a few major points for his essay. Three days spent at the spot had yielded some fascinating findings. There were three young men with individual reasons for risking their freedom to deal illegal prescription pain meds out of a dilapidated colonial. Contrary to mainstream America's narrow, stereotypical view about young black dope dealers, they were human beings who chose the black trade to fill some need in their lives. Dark was the first subject. The boy had expressed to Xavier his desire to finish high school and make something of himself. But that was his dream. His nightmarish decision to risk his life had been driven by the sheer will to step up in the place of his drug-addicted mother and take care of his siblings. This dude exhibited strong leadership potential. Not the type to fall in and follow the crowd. He knew his worth, so therefore he didn't have to use violence to get his respect. But him—Xavier had plans to help. Matter of fact, he'd already spoken with his father about trying to get Dark into the factory. In three months Noah's job would be handing its employees referrals. He had already pulled Dark's coattail about the hook-up. Now, Xavier wasn't condoning the way that Dark made his paper. The homeboy had to do what he had to do. But Xavier just told him to make sure to keep his nose clean until the factory called him in to start testing.

Gameboy was the second subject. The young roller merely fell under the “product of environment” label. When Xavier looked at the boy, he didn't see any strength. No leadership skills. This type of guy was clearly a follower. He looked to be validated by his peers and would go to the extremes to achieve it, even if he had to commit murder. The evil nature of the business was always able to find that “beast” gene and encourage it, turning the most docile hustler into a monster.

The dude Hustle was the third case study. Not much research was required to slap a label on this idiot. The boy was the King Kong of morons and thought that the world should throw major paper at his feet only because he existed. He would do anything to become a rock star in the game. Like step on toes. The kind of cat that would manipulate others into doing dirt for him. Give money to hitters to eliminate the competition. This one was the worst of the worst, an authentic scumbag.

Xavier stood from his desk to stretch his legs. He had wanted to go to the Christmas Eve program to support Samantha. But the essay came first. It was time for him to get on with his life and stop living in the past. The girl had a gorgeous future in front of her. His was somewhat cloudy. The essay paper, though—with a winning paper Xavier could write his own ticket. Book deal. Money for college. There was no more looking in the rearview. The time was now.

The front door opened and Xavier almost went sick at his stomach. Roxanne was singing “Jingle Bells” out of key. She was snort-laughing, slurring, making up her own words, and doing a first-class job of butchering the song.

That eggnog must be killing brain cells,
Xavier thought. Earlier she'd sweet-talked Noah into taking her to their plant's Christmas Eve union party, and Xavier bet that Ms. Church Lady was smashed.

“Xavier and Alfonso,” Noah called out to them. “Y'all come here for a minute.”

He and Roxanne in the same room—this just wasn't going to be good. Alfonso beat him to the front room.

Roxanne's dumb butt had a Santa hat perched atop a blowout Afro and wore what appeared to be a mink jacket with an un-church-lady-like formfitting dress. The dumb bunny had her nerve to be carrying a white sack.

“Ho, ho, ho,” Roxanne said, trying to sound like Santa. She was even going so far as trying to use her hands to shake an imaginary Santa Claus belly. “Alfonso, have you been naughty or nice?”

While Alfonso was playing along, Xavier looked at Noah. The old dude's face pleaded with Xavier to humor her.

“You've been good, little boy,” she said to Alfonso. Santa-Roxanne went into her white sack and pulled out a medium box wrapped in pretty Christmas paper with a bow on top. “Here you go.”

Alfonso snatched the box with kid-like joy and plopped down on the sofa. When he ripped into the wrapping, his eyes and smile looked cartoonish.

“Look, big brother, a brand-new PlayStation!” Alfonso exclaimed, almost unable to contain himself. “Thanks, Santa!”

Noah said to Alfonso, “I deserve some credit too.”

Alfonso ran and hugged his father. “Thanks, Dad.”

Xavier was growing tired of this foolishness. He yawned out of sarcasm.

Roxanne turned to him. “Santa doesn't need to ask you if you've been naughty or nice, because he knows, just by the bullet hole and your shoulder that you've been a very naughty boy. Oh, but Santa has a gift for even the naughty little boys and girls.”

Noah just stood there, hoping that she wouldn't take this thing any further. He was about to say something when she pulled out a small box wrapped in cute paper decorated with snowy Christmas trees. She handed it to Xavier.

He looked at the tiny gift like it had turned into a snake in her hand. The tension was thick and Xavier was wondering if he should take it or not. He only did out of respect for his father. Slowly, carefully, he tore the paper. It was a plain-looking white box. Xavier stole a quick glance at his father before lifting the top. A yellow card the exact same size as a Community Chest card from a Monopoly game lay facedown on a small bed of cotton. Xavier bit his lip out of anger when he plucked the thing from the box and turned it face up.

Roxanne snorted out a laugh. “Merry Christmas! There you go, a Get Out of Jail Free card, gangster. God knows you're going to need it for your future criminal endeavors.”

Xavier held up the card and said to Noah, “You gonna let her play me like this?”

Noah's response was weak. “Are you judgin' my son? Remember: Judge not, lest ye be judged.”

Roxanne said, “You know the boy ain't gonna be no good.”

Xavier's anger grew as he stood there and watched Noah cower before this woman. He wanted to just grab her by her skinny chicken neck and shake her up. But he walked away before he could act on his anger. Dude went into his room and got dressed. He needed to get far away, and catching the bus wasn't going to do it. If he stayed in the house with Roxanne Hudson for another minute, the troll would end up in the hospital and Xavier would wind up sharing a cozy Wayne County jail cell.

He was filled with pure anxiety and grabbed the car keys off the dresser. Xavier hadn't driven since the night he'd been shot. Just the idea of getting behind the wheel filled him with dread. But if he stayed at the crib, he was sure to make tomorrow's headlines.

Xavier moved through the house, heading for the front door.

“Son, where are you going?” Noah asked, grabbing for Xavier's left shoulder. “Can we talk this out?”

Roxanne said, “Let him go.”

Noah told her, “Stay out of this.”

Alfonso said to Xavier, “Big brother, don't go.”

Xavier turned on Noah, flashing the Get Out of Jail Free card. “I don't mind her because she's ignorant. You're supposed to be my dad. Can't you see that she's trying to come between me and you? And you're letting her.”

“Son,” Noah said, but it was too late.

Xavier was out the door.