“Damn. That’s sad.”

“I keep thinkin’ that coulda been me. What if that cop thought I had a gun?”

“You didn’t, though.”

“Neither did Tavarrius,” Jus says, feeling the anger build. “That’s exactly what I’m sayin’. Guy’s walking down the street with his boys and stops to help a lady who ran out of gas on the wrong side of town. Cops get there and tell him to put his hands up cuz they think he’s robbing her, and when he does, they open fire cuz they think his cell phone is a gun. Shit’s fucked up, man.” Jus grabs the flask again and takes a swig. “Niggas gettin’ shot for carrying candy and cell phones and shit. Can you imagine what woulda happened to me if I’d had my cell phone out that night? I could be dead, dawg. And for what?” He swigs again just to feel the burn.

“Aiight, that’s enough.” Manny takes the flask back and pats Jus’s knee. “Let’s hit B’s party. You obviously need the distraction.”

Part of Justyce wants to shake Manny. Ask why he cares more about some stupid white-boy party than he does about the unjust death of a guy who looks like him.

Too bad he doesn’t have it left in him.

“Yeah, all right,” he says. “Let’s go.”

—

Perhaps if Justyce hadn’t downed half the liquid in Manny’s refilled flask on the way to Blake’s house, the wooden lawn jockeys with black skin and big red lips standing guard at the bottom of Blake’s porch steps wouldn’t bother him so much. There’s a good chance that if he’d “slowed down” when Manny told him to, he wouldn’t feel fury when he sees that the wall behind the bar in Blake’s basement is lined with posters from “William H. West’s Big Minstrel Jubilee.”

But Justyce didn’t slow down. He kept drinking until Manny literally took the flask from his hand and slipped it into the driver-side door where Jus couldn’t reach it. So when the birthday boy comes running up to Manny and Justyce, Jus is ready to blow.

Manny: Happy birthday, man!

Jus: Yeah, happy birthday.

Blake: Bros! So glad y’all made it!

Manny smiles and winks at Justyce like Told you.

“Yo, listen,” Blake goes on. He’s definitely been drinking too. “There’s this fine-ass black girl here from Decatur Prep, and I was thinking you guys could wingman it up for me and shit. Homegirl’s got the fattest ass I’ve ever seen, and I think if she meets my niggas, I’ll have a good chance of getting’ her upstairs. You feel me, dogs?” He nudges Jus and grins.

Manny’s smile collapses. He looks over at Justyce. Almost like he knows everything’s about to go to hell.

“Is this fool serious right now?” Jus says.

Blake looks confused.

“Jus, chill,” Manny says.

“Hell nah, I’m not ’bouta chill. Ya boy’s got racist lawn gnomes and white people in blackface hanging on the walls, now he pulls this shit, and you want me to chill?”

Blake rolls his eyes. “Dude, none of that crap is mine. My mom’s great-uncle was one of those performers, so she hung up some posters. No big deal.”

“You coming over here asking us to help you use a black girl IS a big deal, Blake. That’s not to mention you tossin’ the n-word around like you own it.”

Blake: You don’t own it any more than I do, bro. Nobody owns words. I’d think you’d know that as someone “smart enough” to get into Yale.

Manny: All right, y’all, let’s calm down before this gets outta hand.

Justyce: It’s already outta hand, Manny. Your boy Blake is a racist.

Blake: What is it with you people and the goddamn race card, huh?

Justyce: We people. You realize Manny is one of us people too, right?

Blake: Except Manny’s got some sense and doesn’t make everything about race. Why don’t you loosen the hell up?

Justyce: Too bad you weren’t around to say that to the cop who cuffed me for tryna to help my girl.

Blake: Ex-girl, you mean? Didn’t she dump your ass?

At this point, Jared and Tyler walk up, both with a red cup in one hand and a beer in the other. “Homies!” Jared says.

It just makes Justyce madder.

Jus: Man, I’m sick of y’all acting like you got all this leeway.

Jared: Wow, dude. What crawled up your ass?

Tyler: (Laughs.)

Jus: Fuck you, Jared.

Jared: Whoa, now…

Blake: Dude, don’t disrespect my bros at my party.

Manny: Jus, let’s just go.

Jus: (Points at Blake.) Watch your back, dawg.

Blake: Wait, are you threatening me?

Jared: (Laughs.) Better watch out, B. You know Justyce grew up in the hood. He’s gonna call up his gangsta homies to ride through on your ass and bust some ca—

By the time Jus is seeing colors other than red, his left hand and right jaw are throbbing, and there’s something warm running down his chin. Jared’s scrambling up from the floor with a split lip and a swelling eye, and Blake is on his hands and knees with blood pouring out of his nose and onto the carpet.

No pointed hood to stop the flow this time.

There’s a set of arms around Jus, pinning his arms to his sides. “Let me go,” he says, twisting out of the grip of whoever’s holding him.

Manny. Whose lip is bleeding too.

Tyler seems to be the only one who got away unscathed…but then Justyce sees him shake out his right hand.

Of course a crowd has gathered.

Manny: What the hell is your problem, Justyce?

Jus: Man, don’t even say nothing to me right now.

Manny draws back. “Excuse me? Don’t say nothin’ to you?”

Jus: You’re just as bad as they are.

Manny: What are you talking about? I don’t know where all this me against the world shit is comin’ from but you really need to check yourself.

Jus: These dudes disrespect you—disrespect us—all the time, and you never say anything about it. You just go along with whatever they say.

Manny: These are my friends, Jus. You’re way too sensitive, man.

Jus: Lemme guess: that’s what they said when you took offense at some racist joke, right?

Manny: Bruh, you trippin’ hard. You need to go cool off or somethin’.

Justyce shakes his head. Looks Manny over from head to toe. “You know what, Manny? You’re a sellout. Good luck at Morehouse next year.” He shoves through the crowd and makes his way to the back door with people murmuring as he goes. Just before he pulls it open, he hears, “Thanks for ruining my birthday, asshole!”

Justyce trudges up the hill. Starts walking in the direction he thinks will lead him out of Blake’s megamansion neighborhood. He’s still drunk and can’t see straight, but if he can find his way back to the main road, he can find his way back to school.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking or how far he’s gone before a navy Range Rover pulls up beside him.

“Get in,” Manny says from inside.

“Naw, man. I’m good.”

“Jus, it’s thirty degrees and you’re going the wrong damn way. Stop being a jackass and get in the car.”

“I said no, Manny.”

Manny’s car jerks forward and suddenly whips into Justyce’s path.