On the Come Up by Angie Thomas

Author:Angie Thomas [Thomas, Angie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Balzer + Bray
Published: 2019-02-05T08:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

“What the hell?” Sonny says.

There is no way.

I stand on my tiptoes. Long ushers a student through the metal detectors, as if he never left, and Tate checks a backpack nearby.

My whole body tenses up.

Dr. Rhodes said there would be an investigation and that disciplinary action would take place if the administration saw fit. Long and Tate throwing me to the ground must not have “fit” their idea of bad behavior.

Dr. Rhodes is near the doors, telling everybody to come inside in an orderly fashion.

“How the hell can they be back?” Sonny asks.

“There wasn’t enough noise made about what they did,” Malik says. He looks at me.

No, hell no. “This is not on me.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

“You may as well have!”

“Y’all!” Sonny says. “Not now, okay?”

“We need to do something,” says Shana.

I glance around. Half the school’s out here, and most of them eye me.

Am I pissed? Doubt that’s even the word for it. But whatever they want me to do, I don’t have it in me to do. Hell, I don’t know what to do.

Malik watches me for the longest. When I don’t say or do anything, he shakes his head. He opens his mouth and starts to shout, “Hell no, we won’t—”

“‘Pin me to the ground, boy, you fucked up,’” Curtis yells over him. “‘Pin me to the ground, boy, you fucked up!’”

Malik tries to start his own chant over him, but Curtis is loud and angry, and it becomes contagious. A second person yells out my lyrics. A third. Fourth. Before I know it, I’m hearing my words from everybody but me.

And Malik.

“We will not tolerate that type of language,” Dr. Rhodes calls over them. “All students must stop at—”

“‘You can’t stop me, nope, nope!’” Curtis yells. “‘You can’t stop me, nope, nope!’”

The chant shifts to that.

I have a moment. Of all the places and times to have one, I do. See, those words started in my head. Mine. Conceived from my thoughts and my feelings. Birthed through my pencil and onto my notepad. Somehow, they’ve found their way to my classmates’ tongues. I think they’re saying them for themselves, yeah, but I know they’re saying them for me.

That’s enough to make me say them, too.

“‘You can’t stop me, nope, nope,’” I yell. “‘You can’t stop me, nope, nope!’”

It’s hard to say this is a protest. So many of my classmates who look like me are rocking to a beat that’s not even playing. They’re jumping around, bouncing, dancing. Locs and braids shake, feet won’t stay still. There are ayes and yahs mixed in, upping the hype. It’s different from what happened in the Ring parking lot. That was a mini concert. This is a call to war.

“‘You can’t stop me, nope, nope! You can’t stop me, nope, nope!’”

Long and Tate appear in the doors. Long has a bullhorn.

“All students must report to class,” he says. “If you do not, you risk suspension.”

“‘Run up on me and get done up!’” someone yells out.

That becomes the new chant, and it’s definitely a warning.

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