“I can share her too,” I say. “Matter of fact, please take her.”
We laugh and stand up. Kenya glances around at the rubble. More neighbors have joined in on cleaning up, and they form a line that moves trash out the store and into the trash cans on the curb.
“So what y’all gon’ do now?” Kenya asks. “With the store, I mean.”
A car honks at us, and the driver yells out to let us know he has our back. The answer comes easily.
“We’ll rebuild.”
Once upon a time there was a hazel-eyed boy with dimples. I called him Khalil. The world called him a thug.
He lived, but not nearly long enough, and for the rest of my life I’ll remember how he died.
Fairy tale? No. But I’m not giving up on a better ending.
It would be easy to quit if it was just about me, Khalil, that night, and that cop. It’s about way more than that though. It’s about Seven. Sekani. Kenya. DeVante.
It’s also about Oscar.
Aiyana.
Trayvon.
Rekia.
Michael.
Eric.
Tamir.
John.
Ezell.
Sandra.
Freddie.
Alton.
Philando.
It’s even about that little boy in 1955 who nobody recognized at first—Emmett.
The messed-up part? There are so many more.
Yet I think it’ll change one day. How? I don’t know. When? I definitely don’t know. Why? Because there will always be someone ready to fight. Maybe it’s my turn.
Others are fighting too, even in the Garden, where sometimes it feels like there’s not a lot worth fighting for. People are realizing and shouting and marching and demanding. They’re not forgetting. I think that’s the most important part.
Khalil, I’ll never forget.
I’ll never give up.
I’ll never be quiet.
I promise.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There’s a chance that this will sound like a rapper’s award acceptance speech, so in true rapper fashion I first have to thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I’m not worthy of all that you have done for me. Thank you for all the people you placed in my life who made this book possible: Brooks Sherman, superhero agent extraordinaire, friend, and the ultimate “Gangster in a V-Neck Sweater.” From day one, you’ve been my biggest cheerleader and a psychologist every now and then, and you have gone gangster on my behalf when necessary. Only a true G could handle a thirteen-house auction the way you did. You are the Dopest, with a capital D. Starr is lucky to have you in her corner, and I’m even luckier.
Donna Bray, when people look up badass, your picture should appear next to the definition. It should also appear next to genius and brilliant. This book is so much stronger because of you. I’m humbled to have an editor who not only believes in Starr and her story as much as you do, but an editor who also believes in me. Thank you for “getting” it.
The phenomenal team at the Bent Agency, including Jenny Bent, Victoria Cappello, Charlee Hoffman, John Bowers, and all of my international co-agents, especially Molly Ker Hawn, UK agent extraordinaire—Cookie Lyon wishes she was you. If I could, I’d give you all the caramel cake in the world and a million thank-yous.
A HUGE thank-you to everyone at Balzer + Bray/HarperCollins for your hard work and enthusiasm for this book. You are truly a dream team. Special thanks to Alessandra Balzer, Viana Siniscalchi, Caroline Sun, Jill Amack, Bethany Reis, Jenna Stempel, Alison Donalty, Nellie Kurtzman, Bess Braswell, and Patty Rosati. Debra Cartwright, thank you for your incredible artwork. You truly helped bring Starr and Khalil to life even more.
Mary Pender-Coplan, the best film agent on the planet. I owe you my firstborn and my eternal gratitude. Nancy Taylor, the best film agent assistant on the planet, and everyone at UTA.
Christy Garner, thank you for often being light in darkness and for always seeing good in my stories (and me), even when they’re (and I’m) a mess. Your friendship is a blessing.
Team Double Stuf: Becky Albertalli, Stefani Sloma, and Nic Stone. You ladies may have questionable taste in Oreos, but there’s no question that I love you. It’s an honor to call you my friends.
All my B-Team siblings, with special shout-outs to Sarah Cannon, Golden Oreo partner-in-crime Adam Silvera, Lianne Oelke, Heidi Schulz, Jessica Cluess, Brad McLelland, Rita Meade, and Mercy Brown.
The entire We Need Diverse Books crew, especially the Walter Dean Myers Grant Committee. Ellen Oh, you are a gem to children’s lit and a gem in my life.
Tupac Shakur, I never met you, but your wisdom and your words inspire me daily. Whether you’re in “Thugz Mansion” or hiding out in Cuba somewhere, I hope this story does your message justice.
My entire Belhaven family, especially Dr. Roger Parrot, Dr. Randy Smith, Dr. Don Hubele, “Uncle” Howard Bahr, Mrs. Rose Mary Foncree, Dr. Tracy Ford, and Ms. Sheila Lyons.
Joe Maxwell, thank you for your guidance and your love. Many, many, MANY blessings to you.
My phenomenal CPs, beta readers, and homies: Michelle Hulse, Chris Owens, Lana Wood Johnson, Linda Jackson, Dede Nesbitt, Katherine Webber, S.C., Ki-Wing Merlin, Melyssa Mercado, Bronwyn Deaver, Jeni Chappelle, Marty Mayberry (a.k.a. one of the first people to ever read the query for this book), Jeff Zentner (Hov!), all my Tweeps, and everyone at Sub It Club, Absolute Write, and Kidlit AOC. My apologies if I didn’t name you. I love you all.
My Wakanda ladies: Camryn Garrett, L. L. McKinney, and Adrianne Russell. You are black girl magic personified.
June Hardwick, thank you for your insight, expertise, and for being you. You inspire me more than you know.
Christyl Rosewater and Laura Silverman, thank you for supporting me and for supporting the movement. You’re proof that one simple act can cause change!
The Team Coffeehouse Queens: Brenda Drake, Nikki Roberti, and Kimberly Chase. You were some of the first people outside of friends and family who loved my words. I owe you so much. Brenda, thank you in particular for being such a pillar for the writing community.
The #ownvoices gang (since, you know, people say we’re a gang). Keep fighting, keep writing, and keep going. Your voices matter.
My #WordSmiths crew, you rock!
Stephanie Dayton and Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes, through one small act you changed fourteen-year-old Angie’s life and in some ways saved it. Thank you.
Bishop Crudup and the New Horizon family, thank you for your prayers, support, and love.
My family and all of my loved ones, especially Hazel, LuSheila, and all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Although not all of you are “blood” family, you’re “love” family. If I didn’t mention your name, no shade is intended. Basically, thanks to errybody.
Uncle Charles, for all of those five-dollar bills. I wish the world could’ve read your words and that you could’ve read mine. This is for you.
To my father, Charles R. Orr. I feel your presence every single day. I forgive you, and I love you. I hope you’re proud of me.
To my biggest champion, Mom/Ma/Momma/Julia Thomas: You are the ultimate light in the darkness; a true “Starr.” I’m blessed that you’re my mom and hope to be half the woman you are. When Dr. Maya Angelou described a “Phenomenal Woman,” she described you. Thank you for loving me as I am.
And to every kid in Georgetown and in all “the Gardens” of the world: your voices matter, your dreams matter, your lives matter. Be roses that grow in the concrete.