Angie Thomas - The Hate U Give

I shouldnt have come to this party.

Im not even sure I belong at this party. Thats not on some bougie shit, either. There are just some places where its not enough to be me. Either version of me. Big Ds spring break party is one of those places.

I squeeze through sweaty bodies and follow Kenya, her curls bouncing past her shoulders. A haze lingers over the room, smelling like weed, and music rattles the floor. Some rapper calls out for everybody to Nae-Nae, followed by a bunch of Heys as people launch into their own versions. Kenya holds up her cup and dances her way through the crowd. Between the headache from the loud-ass music and the nausea from the weed odor, Ill be amazed if I cross the room without spilling my drink.

We break out the crowd. Big Ds house is packed wall-to-wall. Ive always heard that everybody and their momma comes to his spring break partieswell, everybody except mebut damn, I didnt know it would be this many people. Girls wear their hair colored, curled, laid, and slayed. Got me feeling basic as hell with my ponytail. Guys in their freshest kicks and sagging pants grind so close to girls they just about need condoms. My nana likes to say that spring brings love. Spring in Garden Heights doesnt always bring love, but it promises babies in the winter. I wouldnt be surprised if a lot of them are conceived the night of Big Ds party. He always has it on the Friday of spring break because you need Saturday to recover and Sunday to repent.

Stop following me and go dance, Starr, Kenya says. People already say you think you all that.

I didnt know so many mind readers lived in Garden Heights. Or that people know me as anything other than Big Mavs daughter who works in the store. I sip my drink and spit it back out. I knew there would be more than Hawaiian Punch in it, but this is way stronger than Im used to. They shouldnt even call it punch. Just straight-up liquor. I put it on the coffee table and say, Folks kill me, thinking they know what I think.

Hey, Im just saying. You act like you dont know nobody cause you go to that school.

Ive been hearing that for six years, ever since my parents put me in Williamson Prep. Whatever, I mumble.

And it wouldnt kill you to not dress like... She turns up her nose as she looks from my sneakers to my oversized hoodie. That. Aint that my brothers hoodie?

Our brothers hoodie. Kenya and I share an older brother, Seven. But she and I arent related. Her momma is Sevens momma, and my dad is Sevens dad. Crazy, I know. Yeah, its his.

Figures. You know what else people saying too. Got folks thinking youre my girlfriend.

Do I look like I care what people think?

No! And thats the problem!

Whatever. If Id known following her to this party meant shed be on some Extreme Makeover: Starr Edition mess, I wouldve stayed home and watched Fresh Prince reruns. My Jordans are comfortable, and damn, theyre new. Thats more than some people can say. The hoodies way too big, but I like it that way. Plus, if I pull it over my nose, I cant smell the weed.

Well, I aint babysitting you all night, so you better do something, Kenya says, and scopes the room. Kenya could be a model, if Im completely honest. Shes got flawless dark-brown skinI dont think she ever gets a pimpleslanted brown eyes, and long eyelashes that arent store-bought. Shes the perfect height for modeling too, but a little thicker than those toothpicks on the runway. She never wears the same outfit twice. Her daddy, King, makes sure of that.

Kenya is about the only person I hang out with in Garden Heightsits hard to make friends when you go to a school thats forty-five minutes away and youre a latchkey kid whos only seen at her familys store. Its easy to hang out with Kenya because of our connection to Seven. Shes messy as hell sometimes, though. Always fighting somebody and quick to say her daddy will whoop somebodys ass. Yeah, its true, but I wish shed stop picking fights so she can use her trump card. Hell, I could use mine too. Everybody knows you dont mess with my dad, Big Mav, and you definitely dont mess with his kids. Still, you dont see me going around starting shit.

Like at Big Ds party, Kenya is giving Denasia Allen some serious stank-eye. I dont remember much about Denasia, but I remember that she and Kenya havent liked each other since fourth grade. Tonight, Denasias dancing with some guy halfway across the room and paying no attention to Kenya. But no matter where we move, Kenya spots Denasia and glares at her. And the thing about the stank-eye is at some point you feel it on you, inviting you to kick some ass or have your ass kicked.

Ooh! I cant stand her, Kenya seethes. The other day, we were in line in the cafeteria, right? And she behind me, talking out the side of her neck. She didnt use my name, but I know she was talking bout me, saying I tried to get with DeVante.

For real? I say what Im supposed to.

Uh-huh. I dont want him.

I know. Honestly? I dont know who DeVante is. So what did you do?

What you think I did? I turned around and asked if she had a problem with me. Ol trick, gon say, I wasnt even talking about you, knowing she was! Youre so lucky you go to that white-people school and dont have to deal with hoes like that.

Aint this some shit? Not even five minutes ago, I was stuck-up because I go to Williamson. Now Im lucky? Trust me, my school has hoes too. Hoedom is universal.

Watch, we gon handle her tonight. Kenyas stank-eye reaches its highest level of stank. Denasia feels its sting and looks right at Kenya. Uh-huh, Kenya confirms, like Denasia hears her. Watch.

Hold up. We? Thats why you begged me to come to this party? So you can have a tag team partner?

She has the nerve to look offended. It aint like you had nothing else to do! Or anybody else to hang out with. Im doing your ass a favor.

Really, Kenya? You do know I have friends, right?

She rolls her eyes. Hard. Only the whites are visible for a few seconds. Them lil bougie girls from your school dont count.

Theyre not bougie, and they do count. I think. Maya and I are cool. Not sure whats up with me and Hailey lately. And honestly? If pulling me into a fight is your way of helping my social life, Im good. Goddamn, its always some drama with you.

Please, Starr? She stretches the please extra long. Too long. This what Im thinking. We wait until she get away from DeVante, right? And then we...

My phone vibrates against my thigh, and I glance at the screen. Since Ive ignored his calls, Chris texts me instead.

Can we talk?

I didnt mean for it to go like that.

Of course he didnt. He meant for it to go a whole different way yesterday, which is the problem. I slip the phone in my pocket. Im not sure what I wanna say, but Id rather deal with him later.

Kenya! somebody shouts.

This big, light-skinned girl with bone-straight hair moves through the crowd toward us. A tall boy with a black-and-blond Fro-hawk follows her. They both give Kenya hugs and talk about how cute she looks. Im not even here.

Why you aint tell me you was coming? the girl says, and sticks her thumb in her mouth. Shes got an overbite from doing that too. You couldve rode with us.

Nah, girl. I had to go get Starr, Kenya says. We walked here together.

Thats when they notice me, standing not even half a foot from Kenya.

The guy squints as he gives me a quick once-over. He frowns for a hot second, but I notice it. Aint you Big Mavs daughter who work in the store?

See? People act like thats the name on my birth certificate. Yeah, thats me.