Next Semester: An African American Young Adult Romance (Kimani TRU) - Softcover

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Of the hree holiday parties I attended while back home in Oakland for winter break, all three got shot up. A couple of my close friends had been hit, caught in the crossfire. In less than two months, I'd been to four funerals—all guys I'd grown up with. In fact, violence in The Town had gotten so bad, just going to the mall was a risky move. Growing up in Cali, I was used to being around ignorance and violence. But it seemed like it was worse now than it had ever been. It was to the point where I had to watch my back every time I stepped out of the house.

And the fact that I'd returned home from college didn't help. It only increased the size of the bull's-eye on my chest. In my hood, there is more of a celebration for a guy being released from prison than for one who'd returned home from college. As irrational as it sounds, that's just the way it is. The fact of the matter is, misery loves company. Other than my best friend, Todd, who got a full ride to Crampton on a football scholarship, none of my friends left home for college. Most of them didn't go at all.

Over winter break, I noticed a lot of the guys I hung around starting to hate on the fact that I'd left for college in an underhanded way. Snide remarks like "You think you're better than us now that you went to college?" and "This nigga been in college for one semester and swears he knows everything now" were becoming more frequent by the day. Guys who were supposed to be my friends were turning on me, all because I'd decided to do more with my life than they had. When mixed with envy, the crab-in-a-barrel mentality gave way to genocide in the hood. Home wasn't safe anymore.

That morning I was headed back to school, when I threw my last bag in the trunk of the car, I was determined to study hard and do whatever it took to get off academic probation and stay in school, so I could one day remove myself from harm's way for good. But when I saw my younger sister, Robyn, take the driver's seat, I figured my luck had finally run out. She'd just gotten her license and wanted to practice. I couldn't quite fathom why my mom decided to let her at six in the morning, while it was still dark out. But after Robyn accidentally flicked on the windshield wipers, hazard lights and the wrong blinker before we made it to the highway, I knew she needed all the practice she could get. I still couldn't understand why her in-flight training had to come while driving me to the airport. At least let one person in this family graduate from college, I thought, as we risked life and limb cruising down I-580 en route to the airport. I could tell my mom was a bit nervous, her head on the constant swivel, double-checking Robyn's blind spots each time before she merged lanes. But not even Robyn's no-driving-skills-having-self could stop my mom from going through with her State of the Union address as we neared the terminal.

"Are you sure you got everything?" she asked.

"If I didn't, it's too late to turn around now," I said from the backseat, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Hey! I'm just checking to make sure you haven't left anything behind. You know the weather has changed since the last time you were down there in Atlanta. It's probably going to be chilly until March. I hope you packed warm. You know you don't have a doctor down there, and I can't afford to fly you back home if you get sick."

"I did."

"Good. Now let me see… what am I forgetting? Hmmm. Do you have your award letter? Because you left that on the coffee table last semester."

"Yeah, I got it," I said, running my hand through my pocket to double-check.

Although I had all but severed my relationship with my high school girlfriend, Keisha, leaving without hearing her say goodbye didn't sit well with me. She was my first love. She knew I was leaving and hadn't even bothered to send me a text message to bid me farewell or wish me good luck. Although I'd never admit it, my mom knew not hearing from Keisha bothered me. My mom knew me like the back of her hand.

"Look, J.D., I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but I know you have strong feelings for Keisha," she said.

"I ain't even thinking about that girl," I said, lying.

"Come on now," my mom said. "I was born at night. Not last night! I know that's not the truth. Y'all dated all through high school. But the fact of the matter is, both of you are grown-up now and, quite possibly, growing apart."

"Mom, I'm telling you, it's not like that with me and Keisha anymore."

"All I'm saying is—" my mom said, butting in "—and this goes for you, too, Robyn, so listen up. Don't take your eyes off the road! But listen up. Every person who was a part of your past, isn't going to be a part of your future. And that's as plain as I can put it."

At thirty-eight, my mom was good-looking, single and still young enough to understand what I was going through when it came to relationships. She never shied away from sharing her opinion, no matter whether I wanted to hear it or not.

"I hear you," I said. "That's exactly why I'm not coming back to Oakland ever again," I said.

"Not coming back?" my sister asked fearfully, turning her head to look at me in the backseat.

All the while our car drifted slowly into the next lane, causing the white guy in the minivan next to us to swerve abruptly, honk his horn and flip us the bird.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" my mom and I shouted in unison.

"Sorry," Robyn said, placing her hands back at ten and two o'clock on the steering wheel, regaining control. "What do you mean not coming back ever?"

"I don't know about ever," I said. "But you know how crazy it is out here. People getting shot and killed left and right. Plus, now that I'm in school, I've been noticing a lot of envy coming from the homies. Everybody's hating on me, just 'cause I'm going to college. Other than Todd, I think I'ma just cut all them niggas off for good. Every last one of 'em. Keisha included. Katrina, too! I'm cutting off everybody this semester. Starting off with a clean slate."

"Well, J.D., you know I've never told you how to pick your friends," my mom said. "And I know how jealous friends who didn't go off to college can be. Some of my girls did me the same way back in the day. All I can say is, I know for a fact that you have some good friends. At least a couple."

"Maybe a couple," I said.

"Everybody's not going to go off to college like you," she continued. "But that doesn't make them any less of a friend. As for Keisha and Katrina, you're on your own there. I don't know what you're looking for in a woman, but until you find it, my advice is don't settle for less. Just be careful who you decide to cut off. People are resources, and you just never know when you will need somebody to come through for you. Growing up, my grandmother used to always tell me, 'You should never burn a bridge, unless you have a boat.'"

"Well, I got me a cruise ship," I said, cockily. "So I'ma just do me."

"A cruise ship, huh?" my mom asked, giggling. "Well, unless you wanna go down like the Titanic, you might wanna think about being more involved in extra-curricular activities on campus this year. I think it would be good for you to get your mind off of Keisha, Katrina and your so-called friends here. Do something constructive with all of the idle time you seem to have on your hands down there. Maybe you should try running for office in student government. I think you'd be good at...