Lovers & Haters by Calvin Slater Read Free Book Online

Dylan Dallas’s D-Day losers. And Rolling Deep, which was led by Dutch Westwood. Also, a generic crew named Go Hard—but those boys weren’t making too much noise. Xavier was cool with a gang that went by Second Street. The leader, a cat by the name of Felix Hoover, had been Xavier’s homey all through junior high. All the rest of these gangs—with the exception of Second, were making it do what it did. Slinging whatever they could sell in the glorious pursuit of the dollar bill.
    Even his boy Romello belonged to a gang. Zulu had members ranging in ages from fifteen through grown-ass man status. Only ten of them attended Coleman High though. Romello might resemble Usher, but the boy had a monster reputation and wasn’t scared to pop a cap.
    These were just some of the factors that Xavier was mulling over after he exited a corridor that spilled out into a main hallway. He was a couple of feet away from the library when he looked up into the smiling, raggedy mouth of the enemy. Dylan Dallas was standing there, fists at his sides and balled tight, pants sagging, and wearing an arrogant smirk on his face—that’s because he had his boys with him.
    Xavier thought to himself, Oh boy, this is all I need right now . But he wasn’t about to back down. It wasn’t in his DNA. And he was sick and tired of this guy being all up in his grille.
    â€œSo if it ain’t Master Splinter and five uglier versions of the black Mutant Ninja Turtles,” Xavier blazed.
    Dylan laughed off the joke. “Boy, you’re a real funny dude—a regular LL Cool J version of Kevin Hart. I told you we’d meet back up. That Sebastian thing—your little interference that day cost D-Day some loot. We just gonna take that out your behind today, funny man.”
    â€œTime to finish what we started, homeboy,” Knuckles said.
    Danger, Trigger, and Dirty just stood there trying to look as menacing as possible.
    The bell rang and students began exiting their classrooms and filling the hallways.
    â€œMake your move,” Xavier brazenly said, with his arms stretched out in an inviting gesture. “To tell you the truth, I’m about tired of you fools walking around here like you own the place. And everybody knows that y’all are the rodent population to the real gangs walking these hallways.”
    Dylan made his move and Xavier was ready to counter when Felix Hoover walked up—about six feet, two hundred pounds, navy blue hoodie, fresh jeans, some sweet Cole Haans, and six hard-core gang members from the Second Street crew behind him, ready to put in work.
    â€œWhat’s poppin’?” Felix asked Xavier, with a mischievous grin on his face. He turned to Dylan. “This looks like your style—six on one. You never gonna learn.” He smiled at Xavier. “Lil Hunter, are you all right?” Then he said to Dylan, “Anybody gotta problem with Lil Hunter, gotta problem with Second.” The boys behind Felix threw up their set.
    Dex wasn’t a part of any gang. He was Xavier’s homeboy and always had his back. He walked out of the crowd and went to his locker. He popped the lock and opened the locker, and to everybody’s surprise, the freckle-faced boy came out with a broken table leg that had a sharp, jagged edge at the tip. Students made room as Dex started warming up with the weapon like he was a Major League baseball player inside the on-deck batting circle.
    â€œI gotcha back, X,” Dex said.
    Dylan’s face showed signs of stress. He shook his head and smirked. “I swear, nephew, you must have a guardian angel watching your back.”
    â€œYup,” Knuckles agreed. “But one day that angel is going to turn her back and you’re going to take that ass-whooping.”
    Dex pointed his table leg at Knuckles. “And when she does we’ll be here.”
    Xavier tauntingly smiled at Dylan. “Like I said not too long ago,