Chapter three

One week later

——————-

The way home was quiet. My mom and older brother Kelvin said little to no words. As I scroll through my Instagram, I could see mentions of me.

"Simp"

"He's a simp"

The dude really took a bullet for a Thot! Simp"

All those words, comments. I got messages from people telling me how much of a simp I was. Kelvin looks at me through the mirror upfront. He could see the distress on my face as I take out my drawing notebook.

"You did a very brave thing," he says.

I don't know why he speaks Spanish to me knowing damn well I'll respond in English.

I close my phone out, seeing a message from a random person at school.

"What a lil bitch. U a pussy."

I begin to draw the face of my character in my notebook. The sky was grey and the clouds were forming in weird shapes. I could feel the fighting of the cast around my back.

"It's all good," I say.

Kelvin nods and turns the corner. The tall building of this city tower over us. Creating more shadow upon the car we were in.

All I could think of what would happen when I got to school two days later. I've already got shit from the internet. I'm sure everyone in the city probably knows who I am by now. The Simp King. All I did was save her life.

"What do you want for dinner, Boosie?" My mom shuffles in her purse.

Boosie being my nickname she'd given me as a little kid. I'd always respond to Boosie. She was going to rename me that, but the cost of a name change was far too much in a city like this.

"It really doesn't matter to me, mama," I really.

I look back at my phone to see a message from one of my best friends. My heart fills with joy when I see who it was.

Like someone actually cared. Kelvin and my mom had nothing to say about me being shot. Ignored it. When the doctor brought it up, they'd just change the subject.

"Yo, Kaden! You good, Brosky?" Mira texted.

She sent a smiley face afterward.

I pick my phone up, holding down the message bar before typing.

"I guess. Where's Brando?" I ask

Mira almost instantly responded back, that being rare for her. She seemed to always be busy with her dad.

"Idk. Stroking his dick, maybe," she responded. I squint my eyes and scrunch my nose before responding.

"... wow. You still always find a way to talk shit about someone, don't you?"

She didn't read my message. I close my phone out again.

Kelvin pulls into the parking lot. the large building packed with apartments sitting high in the sky. Staircases that's lead up to our apartment. Number 76. A shabby complex but it'll do us by. Kelvin and I still had our own rooms, so it was good. Before, we had to share a room in a two-bedroom house in Mexico a long long time ago.

My mom got out of the car, rushing to the steps due to it being so cold out.

I step out, avoiding eye contact with the neighboring teenagers. I hated this. Running into them at a time like this.

My hair drops below my forehead as I look down, grabbing my bag of clothes I'd had in the backseat with me on the way home. Smoke fumes into the air as they stare me down.

"How's the gunshot wound?" I hear.

I had to ignore it. My heart pounding as I hold my bag tight.

"I know you hear me, Simp." Laughter breaks out. I stop, turning my head to the five teenagers. Each one with bloodshot red eyes.

three of them passing around a blunt. On the road, people walked their dogs. Broken street lamps, trash in the grass. Junk sprawled all over the complex. A dangerous place. Most people here carried weapons.

"I'm good, thanks for asking." I turn away.

"We don't give a fuck about how you're doing. I just want to know how bad that type of bullet hurt, so I know what different type to use if I ever catch you simping over my girl, ya hear?" I swallow and stare them down.

all of them watching me. a mix of Caucasian, Puerto Rican, and African American teenagers. I slowly nod.

"Got it," I say.

"Now get yo stank ass on somewhere." They all go back to minding their own business.

Kelvin stands at the top of the staircase, waiting for me. Listening to what they had to say. I know why my mom rushed to the apartment now. Dealing with these types of people every day was hard. Yet Spider-Man picks and chooses who he wants to save. The Avengers aren't the ones suffering from poverty.

They don't go every day wondering if they're going to get jumped just by going on a walk. I envy them. I slowly walk up the stairs.

"What was that about?" Kelvin asked.

I sigh, not wanting him to worry too much about me. I couldn't allow it. Being shot and unable to work as normal already made me feel weak. My looks make me seem pity. I was forced to live in such agony.

"Some old friends," I say.

"You lie," he says.

"Dude just said he'll shoot you. All this going on with you, you need to tell someone about it. Don't let people talk down on you like this, lil bro," Kelvin says.

We stop in front of the apartment.

I hold onto his shoulder, leaning forward a little due to pain touching me. The cold mist comes from our mouths as we breathe heavily. Kelvin's nos were red as his hair was stiff and to the side.

"I can taker care of my own," I say.

Kelvin swallowed and looked me up and down. I hated feeling weak. Made me so angry.

"Don't tell mom what just happened," I say. Kelvin slowly nods his head, opening the door that let out such a good smell I thought I'd never been so happy to smell.

The kitchen light was on as the small hallway light was off, making my mom's room light visible in the dark hallway.

"Go to your room and rest." Kelvin closed the door behind me.

I don't hesitate to do so. In fact, I couldn't wait to get to my bed. My bones sheets would feel nice around me about now. For a few days, I thought I was a goner. Seeing this apartment made me so happy. So lucky to still be alive. but being alive made me realize that even if I did die, people would talk shit about me. No one really did care if I died. That stuck with me throughout the hospital and the car ride home.