Free College Boy : A Novel (9781416586500) by Omar (COR) Tyree

motherfuckers took everything from us. So why the hell shouldn’t we rob them?” Raheem rebutted.
    â€œ ’Cause they gon’ throw your ass in jail, that’s why,” Scooter interjected. “I mean, I was just jokin’ when I said that shit.”
    Raheem snickered at him. “Yeah, ’cause you’s a coward anyway.”
    â€œLook, fellas, I got some good news,” Troy interrupted. He went silent for a few minutes to make sure he had their full attention.
    â€œAw’ight, what, nigga?” Raheem asked, tired of waiting.
    â€œYo, I’m on the hoop team. I told y’all I would make it!” Troy said, expecting a burst of excitement. Yet they all just sat there, not budging.
    â€œSo you got a scholarship?” Blue asked.
    â€œNot yet, but the coach said if I play well in the games, he’ll hook it up.”
    Raheem frowned, disappointed. “You ain’t gon’ get no time without a hookup. You gon’ be ridin’ the pine,” he predicted with a grin.
    â€œWe all gon’ be watchin’ the game down here and shit, and gon’ see Troy, like, ‘Yo, there go Troy on the bench, three seats from the coach. Yup, it’s him, right there on the bench.’”
    Troy felt stupid for opening his mouth. He wanted to punch his friend in the mouth, but he wasn’t sure if he could beat Raheem. “Yeah, aw’ight, cuz, but I made the team. You didn’t think I’d do that either,” he responded to him.
    â€œYo, Troy, come get somethin’ to drink, man,” Scooter said. He walked up the stairs as Troy followed him to the kitchen.
    â€œWe got the crib all night. My peoples went to my aunt’s house to fix it up for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving Day dinner,” Scooter said, fetching Troy a glass to drink from. “Yeah, cuz, don’t worry about dem niggas, man, dey nuts anyway. They ain’t goin’ nowhere. But you on the team, hunh? I knew you would make it. You the strongest-minded nigga here.
    â€œI remember we told you to jump off that damn roof as a dare. You remember?” Troy nodded as Scooter continued. “Yeah, you damn near broke your fuckin’ legs. You did it, though.”
    They laughed before calming down.
    â€œYup, Crazy-Ass Troy we used to call you. ‘Don’t ask Troy to do shit, ’cause he’ll do it,’ “ Scooter added, giggling. “ ‘You can’t keep that crazy nigga down.’
    â€œI mean, you always did your own thing. That’s why you made it out. You didn’t get trapped into that group shit, like I did.”
    â€œNaw, Scoot, I ain’t out yet. But when I do get out, I’m gon’ get y’all, too, even if y’all do laugh at me now,” Troy told him. “But what’s been goin’ on back here, man? What’s the news?” he asked, looking positive again. He drank the juice Scooter had given him with one big swallow.
    â€œMan, ain’t shit going on back here. You the news, I guess,” Scooter told him. “You wanna hear the news? Well, here’s the news. Tommy got shot tryin’ to steal a car up Nicetown. Malika, that freak babe, was on drugs and tried to sell her baby. That nice old lady that used to live around the street from us got mugged and had a heart attack.
    â€œThat ain’t no fuckin’ kind of news, man! You the news, Cool. You the only thing we got to talk about.
    And don’t worry about Raheem and them, man, they just jealous. ’Cause as soon as the first games come on, the whole damn neighborhood gon’ be watchin’ you, man, and you know dat.”
    Scooter took a second to calm himself as he set Troy’s glass in the sink. “Yeah, Troy, man, you keep workin’ hard up there in college and make it out for all us. I want you to show dem White people that we can make it, man, even from the fuckin’ ghetto.”

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