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the stuff I’m talking about. That’s why I do my show.”
    â€œBut you ain’t makin’ no money, Bryan. And Mama says if you ain’t makin’ no money, you gonna have to pay her and Daddy back for school.”
    â€œJayd, life is about more than money.”
    â€œYeah, well, tell that to Mama when she writing checks for your student loans.”
    â€œYeah, yeah. That’s why I got the job at Miracle Market to help Mama out. But Jayd, you gotta listen to this right here.”
    When Bryan gets passionate about something, he really feels it and wants everyone else to feel it as well.
    Everyone is real proud of Bryan. He got into IT&T and went for it. He always knew he wanted to be a music engineer/ producer. He went to school for two years and just graduated in June.
    He plays stuff like Portishead and Pink, Kina and Lenny Kravitz. In grade school they made fun of him for being “different.” He was the kid with the “X” shirt and the Afro with a pick in his head. He was a teenager in the nineties—you know, Jodeci, Jordan, and Jeri Curls named Wave Neu-veau. But there was nothing revolutionary about Bryan’s homies.
    Most of Bryan’s friends from around the block are either in jail, dead, or doing something to end up in jail or dead. Bryan’s had his share of minor run-ins with the law, but now he’s just trying to do right.
    That’s why he got a job at the radio station—so he could exercise his political voice through music. Each night he has a theme. One night he might be feeling real spiritual and he’ll play some India Airie or Jill Scott. Another night he might be feeling revolutionary and play KRS 1 or Bob Marley. Sometimes he might feel soulful and drop some Nina Simone and Dextor Gordon on his listeners.
    His absolute favorite artist is Sade. He swears he’s going to go to Jamaica and win her away from her baby daddy.
    â€œWatch, Jayd. I’m gonna be a big-time DJ and I’m gonna be in Jamaica covering the annual island festival and she’s gonna be one of the artists.”
    â€œWhen have you ever heard of Sade performing at one of them festivals? They’re usually dance-hall and rap artists, Bryan.”
    â€œThe year I’m supposed to meet my wife will be the year she’s there. Now, as I was saying, she’s gonna be coming up off stage after performing, glistening with sweat. And she’ll see me behind stage. Our eyes will meet. I’ll tell her she’s the most beautiful woman God ever created. And she’ll say she’s dreamed of meeting me and I’ll say . . .”
    â€œOh, Sade, forgive me! I usually keep my stalker identity on the low, but I just can’t help it!”
    â€œWhatever, Jayd. It ain’t worse than you dreaming about that Black dude on CSI.”
    â€œOh no, I will marry Gary Dourdan and we will have beautiful babies together. I’m already knowing.”
    â€œJayd, that dude is old enough to be your daddy.”
    â€œAnd Sade is old enough to be your mama.”
    â€œBut I’m grown. So, that’s okay. You, on the other hand, are still wet behind the ears, know what I’m sayin’?”
    Bryan’s such a know-it-all. He always gets the last word.
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    â€œJayd. Jayd! Get out the bathroom or you gone miss your bus,” Mama says from the hallway. I finish getting dressed, take one last look in the mirror, noticing Mama’s pimple potion’s worked overnight and grab all my stuff to put back in the closet.
    I hate having to get up so early to go to school. Redondo Beach is just too far to go every morning, I swear. It wasn’t so bad when KJ was taking me to school over the summer. But now that we’ve split, I’m back to taking the bus.
    I don’t know what I’d do without the Metro bus. My mom says when she was growing up it was called the RTD and everybody who rode it would call it the