PART I: 2010

Melvoni sits at the computer desk in his bedroom surrounded by papers and books. A Lil Wayne song plays low as he sighs leaning back in the office chair. It's 5p.m. on a Sunday evening. He's trying to finish everything before school tomorrow.

There's a knock at his door and he replies, "Come in."

Seconds later his father peeks his head in. "Whatchu doin', boy?" Melvin asks walking into the room. He sits on the edge of his son's bed looking around. Once again Melvoni re-did his room.

On one side of the room Melvoni has all his trophies, awards, metals, and certificates. They're from the many sports he has tried over the years: baseball, track, football, basketball, soccer, and wrestling. It wasn't until high school that he decided to stick with baseball. He's an all-around athlete.

As a sophomore, he's already on the Varsity team. Because he'll have limited playing time, the coach put him on Junior Varsity as a starter to balance it out. It's to get the additional reps and develop more as a player.

He does all this while managing to beat the dumb jock stereotypes. Next to his jerseys that hang on the wall are his certificates for A-honor roll.

"Homework."

"Homework? It was just the first week of school."

"Well, I was supposed to read this book during the summer. I didn't finish it and we have a test over it on Tuesday."

"Assignments over the summer are criminal. Shit, even those college classes y'all have to take."

"It's a part of the program. At least I'll graduate with an associates degree."

"True. I was asking because I wanted you to ride with me. I have a couple things to do in Miami."

"I really have to finish this," Melvoni spins around in his chair.

"Man, if you don't SparkNotes that shit," he laughs while standing up. He grabs the book looking at the cover.

"Don't lose my place."

"I won't. Night by Elie Wiesel. What's this about?"

"The holocaust."

"They gon' make sure y'all don't forget that shit, but we gotta forget about slavery. They act scared to teach it," he sucks his teeth. "Let me stop being a bad influence. Bring the book with you."

Melvoni hesitates then gives in. "Fine." He stands up putting on a pair of shoes out of the extensive sneaker collection he's been building up.

Melvoni knows he has it better than a lot of kids, especially considering where they came from. It all has to do with Melvin... His father's a get money nigga and it's not always legal. When he was younger, Melvoni was oblivious to it. It wasn't his business. They wanted for nothing. He had all the new clothes, shoes, toys, and games. Then that shit was put in his face too blatant to ignore. Mostly because he's so close to his father.

Maserati Mel is what he's known as in the streets. He got the nickname because his father bought him a Maserati when he was 16. He's been pushing foreigns and fly whips ever since.

That Maserati money came from somewhere. Melvoni's grandfather, Burt Brownlee, was a hustler in his own right. It's no secret he was an underboss to a big drug dealer as his driver and transporter. Eventually, he told Melvin he'd become that same kingpin's enforcer. At 19, Melvin began reporting to Big Ricky where they created a working relationship. Melvin's responsibilities consisted of protecting Ricky's children and his home for thousands of dollars a day. Melvin quickly became Ricky's closest confidant, and was looked at by Ricky as a son.

Melvin was heavy into the drug game like most men in that time. Eventually, he saw how it was destroying Miami. Everyone knows you either end up one or two places: prison or dead. He used his illegal money to buy small businesses and real estate. That's on top of the wire fraud, money laundering, and scamming. This house, the cars, and putting his kids in private school had to be funded somehow. Melvin always had one foot in and one foot out.

Once downstairs, they go to the kitchen where Melvoni's mother is cooking with the help of his little sister, Saudia.

His mother is dark skin and stands at 5'8". She has her long jet-black Brazilian bundles in a ponytail. All of her gold rings sit on the granite counter but her ears, wrist, and neck are dripped in jewelry. Her powder blue Juicy Couture tracksuit pops on her skin. The hoodie is zipped down halfway with the tank top peeking to show the cleavage of her paid for D-cups that sit up.

"All this chocolate," Melvin kisses on his wife's shoulder making her giggle.

You would think his father is the most in love man you've ever seen. Half the time he's all over his mother. The other half...

His parents have been together since their early twenties. They met while he was working for Big Ricky, Vonita's father.

While most guys wanted the Spanish chicks or the red and yellow bones, Melvin was in awe when he saw Vonita. Slim, tall, long legs, built like a super model with a gorgeous face to match. She looked like a walking barbie doll. She's the total package, so he had to have her.

Melvin was scared to pursue her at first because of her father. One day, Ricky noticed the way he was looking at her and gave his blessing. That was unheard of. Vonita's beauty was admired by the dealers and was the cause of a lot friction. Many guys wanted her, but she ultimately chose Melvin.

"Hey, Ma," Melvoni tries to steal a piece of the food she's fixing. Vonita swiftly pops his hand.

"Get out of my kitchen."

"We will be soon enough. I gotta run to Miami and he's gonna ride with me."

She looks upside her husband's head. "Don't have my son runnin' these streets with you. He has school in the morning."

"We won't be gone long."

"You better have him back by a decent time."

"You heard her. Let's go before she changes her mind, twin."

His father often addressed Melvoni as his twin. It's not because they look alike. Melvoni looks exactly like his mother. Parents say they don't have favorites, but Melvoni was the child that was always up under him. His shadow. His mini me.

His name is a perfect match. It comes from them taking parts from both of their names: Melvin and Vonita.

As they ride on the highway to Miami, Melvoni tries to read. It's hard to concentrate when his father bumps loud music. He only turns down the Boosie to start talking... "Whatchu think about my homeboy's daughter, Nation."

"Think about her in what way?" Melvoni keeps his face in the book.

"Anything..."

"I don't think nothing. She's cool, I guess. I can see her being like a little sister. I'on know."

Melvin always found his son interesting. Melvoni can walk in any room and speak to people. He's charming and personable. On the other side, he can be very serious. He becomes hard to read in a matter of seconds.

"Sister? You have a sister already. What about dating?"

"She's not my style."

"Why? She too black?"

"I didn't say that."

"You never go wrong with black love. You see how fine your mama is? That dark skin, the lips, hips... you can't find that anywhere else. I don't know why you datin' that Mexican girl."

He finally looks up. "She's Puerto Rican."

"Whatever. Neva should've sent you and your brother to these schools where the people don't look like you," Melvin sucks his teeth.

"What's wrong with dating girls who aren't black?"

"Look at all the niggas, especially in Florida, who only date mixed or other races. They hate themselves. They usually dark and were made fun of for it or just didn't get no girls. Now they gotta complex. Self-hating ass niggas. I love me and my black ass mama, so I got a woman that reflects that. I wanted kids that look like me."

He shakes his head. "You've never been made fun of for being dark skin." When Melvoni says he looks nothing like his father, he means that. Melvin's a stocky guy with peanut butter brown skin. He's only 5'10" making Melvoni already taller than him.

"And what I tell you when I said it was happening? Eventually, you'll be loved for it. Left and right you getting girls. Ooh, Melvoni, your skin's so pretty! " He makes his voice high pitched like a girl. "The blacker the berry, the what?!"

He fights a laugh. "The sweeter the juice. I ain't never been sweet though."

"Yes, you are. My sweet boy," he reaches over swiping his hand across his son's head.

"Chillll, Pops," he fixes his waves.

"I love you, boy. Don't get me wrong, ya girl seems like a nice young lady. You like her?"

"Yeah, she's cool," he shrugs. It's more so about trying not to show his feelings, especially in front of his father.

"You might as well say, I guess," he mimics his son's shrugging. "You ain't sure enough. At this age, if you ain't sure, don't waste your time. You're still young and have time to date. You'll save yourself the stress and heartbreak. If you're not sure, let her go. You'll only do her dirty."

"I'm sure."

"You're moving shaky, boy, but if you say so."

"It's hard though. She won't, can't, introduce me to her parents. Because of that she has to sneak around."

"Why can't her parents know?"

"They're strict. They want her to focus on school. No boys or dating... Especially black guys."

"Wouldn't have this problem if she was black too. There's always Jack's daughter."

"I'm straight, Pops."

"Haitian Jack's a good dude. I owe him a lot. I came up 'round him and he always showed me love. Dis man had me all in Lil Haiti and Da City on one. I'll never forget it. Miami in the 90's was wild. That's how I ended up with you," Melvin laughs.

"Ain't nobody tryna hear that."

"It's the truth. Back then they was beating up Haitian's everyday for the way they talked and dressed. I had his back and he had mine. I want you to do the same for Nation. I don't think they pick on Haitians like back in the day, but don't let anyone try her. You protect her. You hear me?"

"I hear you."

"I'm talking, lay it all on the line. With your life if you have to, like her daddy did for me." Melvoni nods wanting to hear some of these stories of the things their father's got into.

An hour into them being gone, Melvoni regrets coming. His Dad's on his second stop as they go to Overtown in Miami.

"This'll only take a minute. Don't get out of this car." Melvin exits the vehicle leaving the keys in the ignition. Melvoni's glad because the AC that's blasting is much needed.

He sighs turning the radio up while continuing to read his book. He highlights any parts he needs to take notes on when he gets home. He glances up for a second seeing his father talk to four men before going back to skimming.

Shouting over the music makes Melvoni raise his head. His father's surrounded by a group of men as they argue. Melvin's outnumbered, but he's not scared. He could've cowered and retreated to the car.

The man he's mainly arguing with lets "pussy ass nigga" leave his mouth only to get stole on by Melvin. "What's up?!" Melvin asks the other men who come towards him. As they begin fighting he can see his father reaching to the back of his waistband, but there's nothing there. He's looking for his gun.

Melvoni looks at the dashboard seeing he left it in the car. He contemplates on what to do. He ultimately grabs the gun remembering what his father said. He makes sure the safety is still on not wanting to accidentally shoot anyone.

He exits the car with nerves that make his stomach twist and turn. Now's not the time to be scared. He approaches the chaos saying, "Back the fuck up," pointing the gun at the men.

Melvin looks shocked, but a sense of relief washes over him. They all nod and begin to slowly back up. "You got it, jit."

They walk away leaving father and son to flee back to the car. Melvin slams his door and quickly pulls off with a screech. "Don't do no stupid shit like that again!"

"What?! I helped you."

"Don't ever up the blick unless you prepared to shoot. They could've had guns too. We were outnumbered. You ain't ready to shoot anybody and I don't want you to EVER be ready. I want you to be different from me!"

"I should've just watched then?"

"I want you to be the squarest nigga I done seen. That's why I send you to Lakeview. That's why you live in Coral Springs. That's why I have y'all in sports. I don't want this for you. I want you to finish school, go to college, and get a regular job. White Pickett fences and shit."

"Then why bring me?"

"I didn't know I was comin' here. And what other times can I hang out with you? You're so busy now."

"You're the one who pushed for me to be involved in all this stuff. Now that I am, you can't complain!" Still heated from the situation he's louder than he should be.

"Don't raise your fuckin' voice at me. I'll put your head through that dashboard!"

Melvoni sits back with a huff and calms down. "I thought you were done running the streets? You told Mama that. I thought you were on that fraud shit. Nobody should be doing hand to hand. That's asking to get arrested."

"I'm not talking about this with you."

And this is what Melvoni means when it was put in his face too hard to ignore. Once he became a teen nothing was a secret. Whispered conversations between Melvin, his mother, or "close friends" became louder.

Melvin didn't believe in "stay in a child's place." He believed in children finding their place in this world and that won't happen by sheltering them.

His father rubs his forehead in stress. "Look, right now I gotta be on the ground. I'm trying to expand my businesses and I need the extra funds. People owe me money on these streets. I gotta get it. That's all it is."

"Well, being greedy is how people get caught up. That's all I'm saying."

"I'm good. I don't need you acting like you the daddy." Melvin pulls into an apartment complex and parks saying, "Give me 30."

"Where are we?"

"Lock the doors and read ya book."

Melvoni groans as his father gets out. He sees Melvin go up the stairs to a door. A woman opens it wearing a silk robe. His Dad embraces her before they kiss and disappear into the apartment.

He feels sick to his stomach. Once again, his father wants him to play blind to the messed up shit he does.

He remembers Melvin's voice. "Sometimes us men have to have our secrets." He worshipped the ground his mother walked on so much that he could make it shake and break apart with his betrayal.

Melvoni has a lot of days feeling like he should tell his mother what he sees. Then he came to the realization that she knows. She just doesn't leave.

The car ride back to Broward County is quiet. He can't even look at his dad. "Can you drop me off at Tommy's?" Is the first thing he's said since his father came out of that woman's house.

"Why?"

"So I can finish this with him. He needs help," he holds up the book.

"Aiight, but you're gonna have to walk home or his mama bring you back." A few minutes later he pulls into the driveway of Tommy's house. Melvoni's Dad is rich off hustling. Tommy's parents are well-off from working in the tech industry. "Be home by 10."

Melvoni enters the Watts' home taking his shoes off at the door and making sure to greet his Trinidadian parents politely. His parent's don't play at all. Everything in the house is spotless and it's expected to stay that way. The same goes for Tommy. He has immense pressure to get all A's, which is hard for him...

"I keep trying to read it, but then I have to start over because I get distracted," Tommy says with frustration as they sit in his bedroom.

"You need to turn off this damn music, for one. You know you have to focus." He dramatically hits pause on the Drake song.

"You know that letter to ourselves we're supposed to write for English? Can you write it for me? I already know the teacher won't be able to read my handwriting. I know what I want to say."

"I got you."

Tommy has the big 3 when it comes to learning disorders: Dyslexia, ADHD, and Dysgraphia. Basically, anything that requires reading, writing, and focusing is going to be harder for him.

They became best friends in 7th grade when the teacher needed someone to be Tommy's peer support to help with assignments. Ever since then they've been a packaged deal like a pair of shoes.

Hours go by and Melvoni doesn't leave Tommy's until they finished all their homework and played some Call of Duty. He walks the few block distance then enters his house as quiet as possible. He's not surprised to come back to his parents arguing.

They're so busy yelling at each other they don't notice him come in. He's an hour late. It's 11p.m. and tomorrow's Monday. He sneaks up the stairs getting pieces of their heated discussion.

"Where were you?" His mother grills Melvin.

"Why you need to know?"

"I'm your wife. You come in here smelling like some cheap bitches perfume!"

"I'm out there making money and you're talking about perfume? You got this big ass house, I bought you two hair salons, you drive a Benz-"

"That shit doesn't matter! What don't you get?!"

It's another night in the Brownlee home. Melvoni travels down the hall twisting the knob of his 12-year-old sister's room. She sits at her computer in the dark playing Roiworld dress up games.

"You good?"

"Why?" Saudia's not even phased. She learned to tune it out. They hear a door slam that causes the house to shake. Soon you hear the engine of Melvin's car start.

The siblings try to have normal conversation when their mother storms in. "Where did you and your father go?"

"Miami... Overtown."

"What happened? Who did you see?" Her arms cross over her chest.

"Just some guys he's friends with."

"That's it?"

"Yeah... Oh, we did go see some of his family. His cousin. He was giving her money for something."

Vonita licks over her teeth. "Did she hug him?"

"Yeah, to thank him for helping her."

"Hm, alright. Get ready for bed."

He feels bad lying to his mother, but he always feels obligated to have his father's back. He watches his mother turn around to leave then he sighs to himself.

The next morning Melvoni moves sluggishly through each class. Monday's are always the worst day of the week. His mind is in wonderland as he sits through English. They're reading and discussing the short story, The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe. The teacher asks a question and of course, Nation raises her hand first to answer.

In a week he realized she's not only smart, but she's also an ambitious student. Maybe an overachiever. She's confident and articulate. Despite going to Lauderhill schools, Lakeview didn't intimidate her nor did it make her feel inferior.

"Yes, Nation," Mrs. A smiles as she sits on her desk.

"I think this story conveys a symbolic way of showing how one man drives himself into insanity through his own guilt. He kills this innocent man due to his paranoia. Because he knows it's wrong, he confesses. A guilty conscience always speaks."

"Do you agree, Melvoni?" The teacher puts him on the spot.

"Uh," he looks down at the story trying to buy time. Melvoni peers back at Nation who patiently waits with a smirk. "I didn't see it like that."

"And why's that?"

"I don't think that old man was as innocent as portrayed. I'm not saying he deserved to be killed.."

"Expound."

"It says, I did not hate the old man; I even loved him. He had never hurt me. I did not want his money. I think it was his eye. His eye was like the eye of a vulture. Vultures are known to seek out dead prey and feed on them." The more he talked, he was trying to figure out what the hell he's saying. "They described his eye as evil as well. The evil eye is associated with a curse and envy. Maybe the old man had the bad intentions, and the other guy killed him before he could do it first."

Nation rolls her eyes responding, "It says in the beginning the guy was ill and crazy. Like schizophrenia or something. He was paranoid and killed the old man."

"Just because someone's crazy doesn't mean they're always crazy. They have intuition like the next person. I feel like he saw something wasn't right with the old man and he took him out for his own safety. Self-defense in a way."

"What're you talking about? How can it be self-defense if the old man never did anything to him? Self-defense means defending thyself!" Nation says in a duh tone as a few people agree.

"Let me put it this way... It's like when I'm right I'm right, when I'm wrong I could of been right, so I'm still right cause I coulda been wrong," He quotes Get Rich or Die Tryin' making the class laugh. "The dude didn't wait to see if he was wrong about the old man. Either you or me."

"Good, I'm glad you two disagree," Mrs. A paces. "You see the nuance? English is all about perspective. Reading is about interpretation and we all interpret things differently." The bell rings and everyone quickly packs up ready to go. "Don't forget we have the test over Night tomorrow! Study! Melvoni and Tomás... Talk to me before you leave."

They both look at each other. "What'd you do?" Melvoni mouths to Tommy making him shrug. "Is there a problem?" He asks as they approach her desk.

"I was looking at the assignment you two turned in today. Why is Tommy's letter written in your handwriting? At Lakeview, you know cheating is not tolerated."

"We didn't cheat. It's my thoughts and words. Melvoni wrote it for me because he has better handwriting," Tommy explains.

"I wrote it because he has-" Due to Tommy's Dysgraphia he struggles with writing. Not only is his handwriting hard to read, but he also struggles with spelling, grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure. It's hard for him to translate his ideas onto paper.

"I know. I have Tommy's 504 plan. I know his learning difficulties and accommodations. I noticed he relies on you a lot. Almost like a crutch. He can't get anything done without you. He's not going to learn on his own if you do everything for him.."

"He helps me sometimes."

"Do you want to continue talking about this with Melvoni here?"

"He can stay. He knows everything. He's even signed into my Pinnacle," he refers to their gradebook website.

"Gotta keep him on top of his grades," Melvoni smiles.

"I was wondering if I can type everything for your class?" Tommy speaks up. "That's what my other teachers let me do. They'd let me go to the library and do my work there."

"You can do that for major essays. You still need to handwrite for the daily journal entries. Plus, you have to write on the state test. You need to practice. I'll help you," she looks at Tommy.

"We will help you," Melvoni says making the teacher smile.

"We. Is there anything else you need?"

"Can you remind me if I forget to turn in assignments? I do them, but then I forget. Also, yell at me to stay on task. I'll probably need a folder for your class that you keep my work in-"

"This boy would lose his head if it wasn't attached to his body. His backpack is like lost and found. I'm tired of holding his work and mine." Melvoni puts his charm on making the teacher shake her head.

"I'm glad you two have each other. You need friends who want the best for you in a school like this." She means in a school where there's few people that look like them. "Get to class before you're late."

"I like her. She's fine too," Tommy smiles as they start down the hall.

"I'ma tell Cherry."

That's the first teacher who actually seemed to care about helping. Most teachers would find his writing too difficult to read the first time and make him type everything the rest of year. Sometimes they'll even pretend they can read it and just give him a good grade.

Mrs. Akindele better known as Mrs. A. She's one of the few young teachers at Lakeview. She's understanding and makes her lessons fun. On top of that, she's looks good.

Tommy quickly goes his own way once he saw Cherry in the hallway. They've been together since 7th grade with no plans of letting each other go. They're that couple that everyone expects to get married and have kids after high school.

Melvoni knows he should put some pep in his step if he wants to make it Ceramics class on time. It's all the way on the other side of the building. Instead, he goes to see if Milka's still waiting in their spot.

He pushes through the crowd of slow walkers spotting Milka walking with her friends. He yells her name only for her to look over her shoulder and scoff. "You didn't hear me?" He puts an arm around her shoulder.

"Nope," she tries to brush him off. "Where were you?"

"I had to talk to my teacher after class. Why you being like that?"

"You sure you weren't talking to another girl or walking them to class?" He groans because it's always something with her. They've barely been dating since summer and it's always drama.

He knows she's being petty and alluding to last week. He walked Nation to all her classes until she learned the building. By Friday, he stopped but she's still upset for some reason. "Why are you always doing that?"

"You know we barely get to spend time together. We don't have any classes together. We have practice after school and we can't really hang out. We only have passing period and lunch. You would think seeing me would be priority."

"Whose fault is it we can't see each other?" He argues.

Milka removes his arm from around her. "I need to get to class." Right as she says that the late bell rings.

"Man, whatever!" Melvoni goes the opposite way. Sometimes he thinks Milka's attitude is cute. It keeps him on his toes and it turns him on. Other times, he wants to pull out his eyelashes one by one.

He understands he's highly sought after. Milka's constantly dealing with girls coming up to him flirting as if she isn't there. In class she overhears girls fawning over him. Not to mention his inboxes are full of thirsty chicks. She's never been insecure in her life until he asked her to be his girlfriend. Melvoni never gives her reason to be. He's very picky when it comes to dating. He doesn't jump into relationships with anyone. He has to see something special in you.

Once he gets to his class, he knocks because the door is locked. The teacher opens it with annoyance and he walks in looking confused because the tables are moved and everyone's in different seats.

"You're late...again. It's the second week. Let's not make this a habit," Mrs. Rupert says dryly.

"Where do I sit now?"

"Anywhere. No more assigned seats."

All of the tables have been pushed together to make them longer. They can seat 8 people now. He looks at the table with Shai. It's filled because she's so popular except there's one empty seat next to Nation. He figures he'll sit there. He has most of his classes with her, but they have assigned seats so he barely gets to interact with her.

Melvoni heads that way noticing her backpack in the chair. "Can I sit here?" Nation looks up from talking to Shai giving him a mean mug. It causes him to say, "Never mind."

"No, you can sit-" He's already walking to the table directly across the room. "-here," she mumbles but he doesn't hear. He daps two guys he barely knows before sitting with them.

School is out and Melvoni walks home with Nation. He holds onto the straps of his backpack staring at the route ahead of them. It's awkward and quiet. Even though they had other classes together, a word hasn't been exchanged between them since Ceramics class. He didn't even feel like asking how her day was when he does it everyday.

Despite that, he wasn't going to abandon the chivalry his mother instilled in him. "Walk on the inside of the street."

"It's fi-"

"I wasn't asking." He gently puts his hand on her upper-arm to move her over.

One word people often used to characterize Melvoni is confrontational. If he has a problem with you, he's going to address it. It'll bother him too much if he doesn't.

"Why were you actin' all funny in Ceramics? Did I do something to you? What's the problem?" It all flies out.

Nation's eyebrows raise. "You gotta attitude?" She screws up her face not liking that he's trying to check somebody.

"What's the problem?"

"Oh, okay! That's what I thought," she nods her head with sassiness. "I mean, just because your Daddy is friends with my Daddy, doesn't mean we're friends. We're cordial."

"I went out of my way to show your raggedy ass around the building for two days. You made a couple friends already and acting brand new?!"

"Raggedy?! I didn't ask you to do that. We can say hey, but we don't have to sit together or talk. We're not close. I don't know you!"

Melvoni's mouth falls open in shock before he puts his hand to his chin. "You ain't say all'at when I was being hospitable. I gave you the tour, offered to share my locker, carried your books. You know what? Walk home by ya damn self!"

He begins walking at a fast pace leaving Nation. Between her short legs and pigeon toes, she can't keep up. "Wait!" She smacks her lips running to catch up. She grabs his wrist only for him to snatch it away.

"Unhand me!"

"I know your feelings aren't hurt?" She asks trying not to laugh in his face.

"Get away from me."

Nation sighs admitting, "My mother told me to keep my distance from you."

He slows down looking back at her. "Why?"

"Because my dad works for yours. That's all she really said. She didn't explain too much else."

There's a lot being unsaid but they understand. "I can see why she said that... At the same time, that's their shit, right? They're grown ass men. If they fallout or have issues that's between them. Same for us. Why can't we be cool?"

"True."

"The way I see it, we're going to need each other. It ain't too many people like us at Lakeview. If anything else, we can talk about our Dad's. I have a feeling most people can't relate around here without judging."

Nation nods. "Can you be honest? Should I be worried about my Dad working for yours?"

Melvoni chews on his bottom lip and quietly nods. A sense of shame washes over him. "He ain't a drug dealer though. He hasn't been since the 90's," he says as if it'll make her feel better.

"That don't matter. It still isn't an honest living. All my Daddy knows is hustling and surviving. He knows nothing about real living." He can hear the pain in her voice.

"Same," Melvoni's face frowns up. "All I know is, we have awhile until we graduate. You got my back and I'll have yours."

"I don't know how long I'll be at Lakeview or in Coral Springs, but I'm tryna make the best of it."

"I got you." He sticks his hand out and they slap the palm side then the back before snapping. Nation chuckles with a shake of her head.

"I'ma remember you called me raggedy," they turn to start walking again. Melvoni laughs it off wrapping an arm around her to give her a quick side hug.

•••

THOUGHTS ON MELVONI'S FAMILY AND FRIENDS?

DO YOU THINK HIM & NATION WILL STAY TRUE TO THEIR WORD?

COMMENT & VOTE.