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from her school is volunteering at six different nursing homes in the Bronx.
    When they call her name, I check the room again, trying to see if any of them guys look like they too into her. This one Black guy near the back of the room is standing up, clapping and smiling like a damn fool. I ain’t sure if he the kinda guy that be putting shit in people lockers, but I keep my eyes on him anyway.
    Novisha don’t gotta say nothing when she get her award. She just thank the principal of her school, smile for some pictures, then come back to the seat again. Her moms and pops give her kisses, and she give me the good girl hug again. She show me the little plaque she got. All the money she pay to go to this school, they could give her something a little bigger, you ask me. “Nice,” I tell her.
    â€œYeah,” she say. “It’s heavy too.”
    We hold hands again and watch them give out the rest of the special awards. When they call another name, I check back to see if that dude is watching Novisha, but he ain’t. He standing up again, clapping and cheesing it up for the guy getting the next award. I guess he do that for everybody. He ain’t into Novisha. Nigga just like to clap.
    After we leave the school, Novisha pops say he taking us all to Red Lobster. “My little girl don’t get an award everyday,” he say. He put his arms ‘round Novisha shoulders and hug her. “I’m proud of you, baby.”
    â€œThanks, Dad.” She smile, but I know she ain’t feeling it.
    We all walk down the street to where Mr. Jenkins parked his car. On the way to Red Lobster, Novisha moms and pops is just talking to her ‘bout the award and how they happy and proud of her and shit. I don’t say nothing. Not that I ain’t proud ‘cause I’m always proud of my girl for all she do, but ‘cause I’m thinking ‘bout the fight me and my moms had last night. How she gonna tell me to go out there and sell weed just to make money for her? Why she don’t care if I get locked up? How she gonna take care of Troy then? Damn.
    All through dinner my mind ain’t even there. I’m eating ‘cause the food is good and I ain’t had seafood for a while, but I ain’t saying a whole lot. Novisha and her moms and pops is talking ‘bout everything, but me, I’m thinking ‘bout Bennett and how much I don’t feel like going back there. And what I’ma do if my moms don’t let me back in the room again? Go back to Jasmine room? Hell no.
    When we done eating, Ms. Jenkins order a whole ‘nother dinner to go. “It’s for your little brother,” she tell me.
    â€œYou don’t need to do that, Ms. Jenkins,” I say. ‘Cause I know Red Lobster is kinda expensive and her and Mr. Jenkins don’t got a lot of money. I mean, it’s bad enough they gotta pay for my dinner.
    â€œYes, I do. That little boy deserves to have some good, hot food on a cold night like tonight.”
    â€œThanks,” I say. Then I tell Novisha, “I told you your moms is cool.”
    â€œDon’t tell her that,” Novisha say. “She’s getting souped!”
    Ms. Jenkins reach ‘cross the table like she trying to slap her, but Novisha laugh and move out the way. “Girl, award or noaward,” she say, “you’re not too old for me to put across my knee!”
    Everybody is laughing and having fun, and I try to get into it, but it’s real hard. The last time my whole family was together having a good time like this was almost four months ago. For my moms thirty-fifth birthday, my pops took us all to this soul food restaurant on 125 th Street. Man, we was greasing and joking ‘round like Novisha family is doing now, but what we ain’t know then was that my pops was gonna get arrested the next day.
    That dinner was the last time our family had fun. After that, all we been having is hard times,