Page 75 of K.I.N.: Karma Is Near

I looked at her as she walked ahead of me.

My cousin.

My friend.

The woman who was helping throw a baby shower for the son her husband put inside me.

And for the first time all day, Xay’s promises didn’t make me feel chosen.

They made me feel like shit.

XAVIER

I stood outside Frozo’s tire shop watching Levin’s black BMW disappear down the street.

He had dropped me off and said he had to go meet some nigga named Mills.

Mills.

Never heard that motherfucker’s name a day in my life, but whoever he was had to be important because Levin wasn’t the type to move around for nothing.

I stuffed my hands into my hoodie pockets and turned toward the shop.

Frozo managed a small tire and rim spot in Newark. Nothing fancy. Couple bays, little office in the front, rims displayed behind the glass and enough tires stacked around the place to smell the rubber before you even walked through the door.

Frozo wasn’t even his real name.

Franklin.

He hated that shit.

I been calling him Frozo so long I couldn’t remember the last time I called that nigga Franklin without trying to piss him off.

We’d been locked in since junior high. Funny because we started off beefing over some little bitch in eighth grade who developed before everybody else. Me and Frozo damn near fought over her, found out she wasn’t fucking with neither one of us, then somehow ended up best friends.

Life.

I pushed through the door.

SportsCenter was playing on the TV mounted in the corner. An impact wrench screamed from one of the bays while one of Frozo’s workers had a car lifted off the ground. Tires were stacked damn near to the ceiling along one wall.

Frozo was behind the counter looking down at his phone.

He glanced up.

“Look who decided to come see the working class.”

“Nigga, shut up.”

He laughed and came from behind the counter.

We dapped.

“Where your car?”

“Lev dropped me.”

“That nigga finally got tired of you?”