I stiffen at the reference, my legs going numb.
“Mmhhmmm. You know she got a problem,” someone snorts. “Been to rehab and everything!”
Tears pool, the shame instant and cutting. Sammy steps near, gripping my hand tight. Mom glances back at me, hurt in her eyes. Hurt for me. I know she didn’t tell anyone. So, how do they know?
“Yup. I’ve seen her sneaking into that house on the corner,” another man shouts, another nameless face.
The secret garden. Crap! How could I have been so stupid to think no one would notice. Deny deny deny . . . no one has proof.
Yusef frowns, watching the comments ping-pong around the crowd before meeting my gaze. I shake my head, mouthing, “It’s not true.”
Yusef only stares back, face void of emotion.
“Yup. She still got that monkey on her back,” someone cackles.
The crowd laughs and it’s several gut punches, the wind knocking out of me each time.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper to Sammy, knowing how much of an embarrassment I am to him. To my whole family. Mom takes the stairs two at a time, throwing an arm around my shoulders.
“Come on, baby,” she whispers. “We don’t have to listen to this.”
“Hey!” Alec barks, stepping off the stairs. “You leave her out of this! You have no right to talk about her that way. She’s a kid!”
I’ve never seen Alec defend me about anything. It’s almost comically relieving.
“Look, I work for Mr. Sterling,” Alec says, pulling out his cell. “I can give him a call and ask about the power. But I’m just like you! I have no idea what’s going on. I’m not in charge here!”
“Damn right you’re not. You didn’t even pay for this house,” Mr. Stampley snaps. “You living here free, acting like you better than us!”
“Yeah!” the rest shout with agreement. How freaking dare they come at us when they’ve done so much worse! They burned a family alive! Or, well, their families did. Most of them are probably dead. I look next door, to the boarded-up house with the bodies inside and gulp. As if reading my thoughts, Yusef shakes his head, warning me. And he’s right, they may kill us for even knowing about the Peoples family.
The angry crowd is tightening, shifting closer to the house. It’s a mob, my panic mind starts to process, glancing at the house next door again.
We could end up just like them.
If I run inside now, I could grab the van keys, and we may have less than five seconds to make it to the car.
Then, without even a sound, the streetlights spring to life on the sidewalk, one by one, startling the crowd.
“There! See, the power is back,” Alec snaps, pointing down the road. “Now would you get off my property and stop harassing my family? Please!”
After some grumblings, the crowd begins to disperse, receding into the street, heading home without one apology. Mom exhales the breath she’d been holding as Piper races down the steps, hopping into Alec’s arms.
Yusef looks on before stuffing his fists into his pockets and follows the crowd. And in the distance, tucked in the shadows, Mr. Watson quickly hops into a truck on the corner. A truck I recognize because it’s been parked on our block for several nights.
Twenty-One
BEFORE SUNRISE, I throw on my running gear and slip out the front door, relieved to see the lawn empty. It hurt, having my worst mistakes used as punch lines by strangers, embarrassing my family all over again. We only have four days left in this place, and I don’t want to give these people a reason to keep me. I have to move the pots somewhere and destroy any evidence I step foot in the secret garden. Should’ve done this sooner, like after watching Erika get dragged away. Guess I was too . . . desperate. But weed isn’t worth spending my life in prison with the rest of Maplewood.
Through the overgrown path, I push aside the door and duck under the tarp, coming face-to-face with a man standing in the middle of the kitchen.
Yusef.
“Shit,” I gasp, gripping my heart. “Dude, don’t you think I’ve been scared enough?! What are you doing here? How did you . . . ?”
Yusef touches one of the blooming buds, his face stoic.
“So is that what you’ve been using my tools for? My fertilizer? You’ve been growing this shit!”
Crap.
“Um, well . . . I just—”
“You lied to me,” he hisses.
A part of me wants to tell him to mind his business. That he had no right to come barging in like he owned the place. He didn’t even stand up for me when the entire neighborhood dragged me for filth. But another part of me wants him to scream louder, tear me apart, because I deserve it. I deserve all his heat and rage. For this and many other things.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“Get rid of it,” he snaps.
That was my plan all along. But one look at the budding pots, my proud work of art, and I have second thoughts.
“But it’s so close. It’s almost ready to be harvested. Yusef, I’m not a dealer or anything. This just . . . really helps me. And, well, you give Erika a pass!”
“Are you fucking serious right now? You trying to compare yourself to E?”
I wince, brain not functioning enough to know not to bring up such a sore spot. Desperate, I try another angle.
“Okay, but maybe we . . . together . . . can make a little money and . . .”
The look on his face stops me cold. His eyes narrow, jaw clenching.
“You know what, Cali, you actually belong up in Big Ville. You so thirsty for this shit that you don’t even see what’s going on right in front of you! How we all are hurting! No wonder everyone calling you a junkie. And they right. The way you be scheming on everybody, even your own family. Who could trust someone like you?”
His sharp ice pick pokes right through my chest.
“Yusef,” I breathe, fighting back tears.
He pinches the bridge of his noise and huffs. “I ain’t no snitch. That’s not me. But if you don’t get rid of this shit, I’m turning your ass in myself. And I won’t give a fuck what happens to you after that.”
It’s hard to put into words what it’s like throwing perfectly good cannabis plants into a compost bin. It’s like a starving child forced to throw away fresh food. There was no way to burn it without drawing attention to the scent, and it was too risky leaving it in a regular trash can for someone to find. Mom’s compost bin was the safest place.
I uprooted the plants, ripping them from the pots with tears in my eyes. Not because of the loss, which should have broken me after all the work I put in. It was the combination of . . . everything.
Junkie. The word had such a cruel bone-deep meaning, leaving no room for understanding or compassion. No one knows why I am this way. They’re not even interested in knowing. They just see the surface and that’s enough for them. But of all people, I never thought Yusef would be so shallow. He knows me, more than anyone around here. Can’t believe he could be just as cruel.
My muscles ache for a long run. The kind that could have me lapping this entire city, twice. I’m not ready to face any of my neighbors, but without weed, a run is my only outlet. So after school, I blast my music, keep my eyes focused, pretending I’m in the middle of a race and that every person I fly by is a tree. I push myself, harder and harder, breathing through the intense stares, pain, and tears. I would’ve kept running, if Tamara didn’t call.