Langston

1

"Yo, we need gas." The traffic was just starting to ease up as I pushed my Audi Q5 over the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge onto the Staten Island Expressway. It had taken a while to round everybody up, but we were finally on our way back to Howard University after spending Easter weekend back home in New York with our families. My mother had surprised me with the new car as an early graduation present. Elaborate gifts were her way of trying to make it up to us for walking out six years ago. "Hey, y'all, seriously, the gas light just came on. Somebody needs to cough up some cash."

You want to make a bunch of college students shut the fuck up? Put free food in front of them or ask them to chip in on gas. Either way, you're going to hear crickets. I held out my palm while trying to keep my eyes on the road, and let out a couple fake coughs, clearing my throat.

"What'd you say?" my frat brother Krush asked from the seat behind me.

"Oh, so now y'all deaf?" I flipped my sun visor down to block the rising sun from blinding me. "Y'all heard me. Don't everybody go reaching in your pockets all at once." Not one of them made a move to retrieve any money. "Y'all keep playing and the next stop is going to be the Port Authority and the Megabus. You got my word on that."

"Man, why you always got to be so damn dramatic and shit?" asked Tony, who was sitting in the passenger's seat. "You acting more and more like your old man every day."

The car erupted in laughter. Everyone got a kick out of his joke except for me. Tony knew I didn't like anyone joking or talking bad about my father. My pops was my hero. Shit, he was probably their hero too.

"You got a problem with that?" I asked.

There was a quiet pause before Tony said, "No, but you the one with the fancy ride and the rich old man. I'm barely getting by on financial aid and student loans. Give a brother a break, frat." He threw up our fraternity sign, and I heard Krush and Kwesi laugh again from the back seat.

"Tony, leave him alone, bro," Krush said, coming to my defense — or at least I thought he was. "His pops probably didn't have a chance to get to the safe after paying eighty grand in cash for this ride, so he only gave him five hundred to get through the week."

Once again, laughter filled the car, so much so that it was pissing me off.

"First of all, my dad isn't paying for this car," I said, shutting the fellas up. "My mom bought it for me," I mumbled under my breath, only making Krush's point.

"Aw, man!" Tony roared in my direction. "You should have just kept your mouth shut, you little spoiled bitch. Ain't nobody giving your rich ass any gas money."

The peanut gallery cosigned from the back.

I glared at Krush and Kwesi through the rearview mirror. "That's a'ight." I nodded knowingly as I put my eyes back on the road. "Next time y'all want a ride to McDonald's late at night, I hope you got your walking shoes, 'cause I ain't getting up. You got my word on that." This time, I threw up our frat sign.

"Damn, it's like that?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, it's like that." I mumbled under my breath, "See if y'all be laughing then."

I felt something lightly rest on my shoulder. I looked to see Kwesi's hand with a fifty-dollar bill in it.

"For you, my brother," Kwesi said in his African accent.

"Thanks." I took the bill out of Kwesi's hand. "At least one of you was raised right," I added sarcastically.

"Dude, we're all struggling college students," Krush chimed in from the back. "What do you expect?"

"Yeah, besides," Tony said, turning to look at Kwesi, "if my granddaddy's face was on the money in my country, I'd be generous too and whip out fifty bucks." He nodded toward Kwesi. "Ol' Coming to America mafucka."

This time even I joined in the laughter.

"That was a good one," I said to Tony. "But even if your granddaddy was Bill Gates, you wouldn't chip in a dime, because you're a ..."

We all turned to Tony and in unison said, "Cheap-ass bastard!"

Tony gave us the finger, just like he always did. He could dish it out, but he couldn't take it worth shit.

"Eff all y'all," Tony said.

"Eff all y'all," Krush mocked in a feminine voice, letting Tony know he was being a baby.

It didn't matter how many times we clowned Tony about being cheap; he always caught an attitude. I would have thought he'd be used to it by now, since for the last four years at school, that's all we ever did was call him out for being so stingy. Tony, Krush, Kwesi, and I always had each other's backs, but whenever it was time to come up off some money, that's where Tony drew the line. I couldn't remember that last time he chipped in on a pizza or paid for a round of beers, but you best believe he was always full and had his thirst quenched before the night was over.

Yeah, he was cheap all right, despite having two part-time jobs, but then again, I tried to remember where he'd come from. Tony was raised by a single mother in Brooklyn's Marcy Projects. He had two brothers who were Bloods gang members, but he busted his ass and made it to Howard, where he was about to graduate with honors in accounting. Cheap or not, I had to admire him. He'd broken the cycle.

Realizing I was going to have to make do with Kwesi's contribution, I turned my focus back to the road. I hadn't even driven for a tenth of a mile before there was a clicking sound, a hiss, and then the car filled with something other than our laughter and music.

I sniffed the air. "Shit! Tell me that's not what the fuck I think it is."

"Depends on what you think it is."

I glanced in my rearview mirror at Krush just in time to see him take a long hit from the blunt he was caressing between his fingers.

"What the hell?" I shouted. "I know you're not smoking that shit in my car!"

"Yo, stop being such a pussy. Ain't nobody gonna harm your precious leather." Krush took another hit of the blunt.

"I'm not worried about the leather. I'm worried about jail," I said.

"Whatever." Krush snapped his head in my direction and gave me a serious look in the rearview mirror. Krush was what you might...