Page 4 of You Deserve Good Things

And me? I watched her love everybody around her. From her teachers to the lunch lady. I saw her carry trays for girls with crutches, offer tissues to boys trying to hide tears. I fell in love with her heart way before I knew what love really meant.

One night, I asked Mama how you tell a girl you like her without messing up the friendship.

She laughed and said, “Baby, if the friendship’s real, love don’t break it. It just deepens it.”

So, I’ve been waiting. Biding my time.

Silas? I think he knows. That’s why he be checking me extra hard. But I never gave him a reason not to trust me. I’m gon’ come correct when I come. And when I do? Shaniya gon’ know she been loved since kindergarten.

Loved through every laugh. Loved through every tear. Loved by a boy who turned into a man who kept his word.

Always.

For her.

Witness to a Nightmare

New Orleans,Lower 9th Ward

It was supposed to be a regular night. Just Silas and me, riding through the city like we always did. Him behind the wheel, music playin’ low—some old Boosie beat knocking slow out the speakers—windows cracked just enough to let that sticky New Orleans air roll in and coat our skin like syrup.

But something felt . . . wrong.

Silas was quiet. Too quiet. Usually, he’d be talking slick, cracking jokes, telling me about some fool he had to check earlier or asking me why I didn’t give Jacory a chance yet. He always kept the air light. But tonight? He was all tight shouldersand quick glances, constantly checking his mirrors like he felt eyes on us.

I should’ve known.

I should’ve said somethin’.

I should’ve begged him to turn around.

But I didn’t.

“Where are we goin’?” I asked, chin in my palm as I stared out the window at the streetlights zipping by.

He licked his lips, gripping the wheel like it owed him an answer. “Just gotta make a move really quick, lil’ bit.”

I rolled my eyes. “You still dealing with them lame ass dudes, Si? For what? We straight. Aren’t all my medical bills paid off?”

He let out a tight breath that was supposed to be a laugh, but it didn’t feel like one. “Youstraight. I gotta make sure it stays that way. When you got sick, I made Keem a promise, and I’m gonna hold up my end. This will be my last time for sure and I’m square.”

And there it was—that heavy-ass guilt he carried like a cross. Silas always thought he had to bleed to keep the rest of us breathing. I hated that part of him. The part that didn’t know how to let go.

He pulled into the parking lot of a raggedy corner store off Claiborne. The lights overhead flickered like they didn’t even wanna be on. One busted car sat in the back of the lot, fogged windows and empty cups on the dash. Everything about it felt . . . off. Like the block itself was holding its breath.

“Stay in the car,” Silas said, shifting the gear into park.

I stared at him. “Si—come on. Let’s just go home.”

He looked at me for a long second. His jaw clenched like he wanted to say yes. Like maybe he was rethinking it.

But before he could answer, a black Charger pulled up, real slow, tires crunching over gravel like thunder.

Silas straightened.

Three dudes stepped out. One tall and skinny with a scar dragging down his cheek, another built like a linebacker with golds in his mouth, and the last one leaning on the hood, eyes bouncing between all of us like he was doing recon.

I didn’t listen. I climbed out the car and stood near Silas before I could even think. That tension in the air had me on edge.

---