Duh! Stenton Rogers is from Newark!
“A little,” I answered. “Yeah.”
“Well, you should know it’s heavy in gang activity. My family runs one of the biggest gang organizations in the city. For some of my family, street life is all they know. I have so many cousins my age and younger who only aspire to wiping out a rival gang. And these gangs go beyond the streets; it’s heavy in the county jail and prisons throughout the state.”
Wait…
“You in a gang?”
“No.” He shook his head. “My moms would beat my ass. But so many of our family are. My cousin, Brick. The one I mentioned yesterday. He’s my age, and has not only been in a beef with a rival gang for years, but it’s been progressing like crazy. It exploded when Brick got into a shootout after a backyard baby shower back in April. He hit a kid from the other side, Blocck Boi $even. He didn’t kill him, but dude was messed up, in a coma for like a month. It took the police department a few months, but they finally picked Brick up for the shooting back in July.”
“Dang…”
He shook his head. “It’s not just that. Brick about that life. He knows what comes with it. If he shoots and the bullet traces back to him, he knows he has to answer for it some way, somehow. What’s fucked up about it is last summer, Brick found his way into police corruption. He was at his man’s house when a few NPDs came to cop. Dudes were in plain clothes, but was poppin’ off at the mouth. Brick had no idea who they were while waiting on their product—honestly, I don’t think he’d care—so he started firing back.
“One thing led to another, a fight broke out, spilling into the backyard. Brick was getting the best of one of them…even threw dog shit in dude’s face. I guess that was too much and his partner pulled out on Brick, finally identifying themselves. With a gun on him, they whooped Brick’s ass, fracturing his ribs, busted his nose and lips. Someone who didn’t know these were cops called 911. Everything was caught on tape.”
“Shit…”
There was no win with the police. This story was insane.
“Exactly. Brick was arrested then treated a whole day later. Internal investigations got involved when someone emailed every address in the police department and city they could find. We still don’t know who. It didn’t really matter to Brick: he lived to hustle another day and ain’t no snitch. So since last summer when this all went down, it seems like NPD put a bounty on his head, which is probably why they took so long to arrest him for shooting the Blocck Boi $even. They wanted to be thorough and make that shit stick.”
“I see.”
“Nah.” Ashton shook his head. “Let me paint the picture. The Blocck Boi $even who Brick shot has a brother in the county. Matter of fact, quite a few Blocck Bois are in the county.”
“Like…the county jail?”
“Yeah. And at the county level, if NPD wanna fuck with him, they can assign him to an area where Blocck Bois outnumber my family’s gang. He’s really at their mercy.” Stunned at his reality, I was wordless. I had nothing to offer. I wasn’t good at…comforting humans. “When you’re behind those walls, there are no eyes on you. The COs can do whatever the fuck they want, and so far, they’ve been fuckin’ with us. We go weeks without hearing from him. Even the people he fucks with in there can’t account for him, so we have no control. We got him a lawyer, but nothing’s guaranteed. The last time we spoke to Brick, he tried to assure us he was okay, but I know my cousin. He’s just putting on for us and whoever’s listening in on his calls.”
“Have you heard from him lately?”
Ashton shook his head, eyes blinking fast with worry. This tall, athletic dude was torn before my eyes.
“That’s messed up, yo,” I breathed in disbelief. “How can you perform with all this shit on your shoulders?”
The wrinkle between her eyes struck me. Who was this girl? The Tori McNabb I’d seen around campus was more detached and other than human. She was pitiful, and from what I’d heard, talented. She was weird with a fucked up weave and busted sneakers.
This girl, just inches away, showing more sympathy than anyone I’d known for almost four years on this campus, was warm and compassionate. It was unnecessary. I wasn’t looking for a friend in Tori McNabb. I’d only been trying to make good on disappointing A.D. Jones. Nothing more.
I shrugged, stepping off to get the rest of my things to go. “The way people in my family do. Keep pushing.”
I left Tori hanging, standing there looking stupid. It was wrong, but necessary. She didn’t utter a word while I walked to the bleachers for my bag and towel. She was still muted when I started toward the entrance of the track to leave.
I waved her on. “C’mon. We can schedule you for a massage before my practice.”
Tori bent over, picking up her things from the ground in a single, rough swoop. She walked past me, making it clear, “Ain’t nobody laying a fuckin’ finger to massage me. Ever.”
I blinked, not expecting that decree. Maybe I deserved that brisk energy.
She threw a hook I saw coming, and I was able to block it and toss a quick and easy left jab, right cross combo.
“Ut!” Luke, my trainer, shouted, jumping over the ropes and into the ring. “That’s it!”
The girl was laid out on her side. What? I was vexed. I didn’t even hit her hard. Tyrone, Trisha, Collin, and the medical trainer jumped in as well. I stood back wondering why this girl was on the floor.
The hell…
We were sparring today. When sparring, you typically don’t go for blood with your opponent. You get pushed and your timing and response are tested. At my level, it wasn’t cool to knock out your sparring partner. She was a twenty-four year old local fighter. Had been fighting longer than me. I didn’t use full force on her. In this practice exercise, we were testing speed, not power.
I watched, waiting patiently while they asked her if she was okay. Then Luke, Trisha, Tyrone, and Collin backed away, forming a new circle. They whispered, sighed, and shook their heads. I couldn’t hear much because of the old school music Luke had playing in the back. It wasn’t loud—I didn’t hear it while sparring—but now that ear-hustling was paramount, it annoyed the shit out of me. Conferencing? For what? I did nothing wrong. Not saying ol’ girl did either, but that combo was lightweight. Would they kick me out of the program?
Do I care?
I’d been wanting an out from this place since I stepped foot on campus six weeks ago. Send me home! I’d at least make a few dollars doing this instead of feeling like a lab rat. I couldn’t deny feeling a stab of fear, though, and I hated it. I hated rejection. If I had gone home on my own, it would have been me quitting. But if I was sent home, it would have been me failing. I didn’t know much, but boxing was a skill I honed in my damn sleep. No damn way I could have BSU ship me back for not exceeding in this one thing!
First, Luke turned and started my way with his head hung. Still out of breath, I tried to get control of my lungs. Then Trisha and Collin followed him, being just as long-faced as him.
“Tori…”
“Yeah?” I answered too anxiously; my eyes fell away, embarrassed.