“Sup, man,” a stranger sitting on the couch greeted him. “I’m Tre! You must be Bailey. Tick and LaShay had to make a run real quick.” The da...k-skinned with the bald head and white gold grill held up a doobie between his thumb and forefinger. “Want a hit?”“Uhhhhh…”“Why y’all white boys so damn scary,” he chuckled. “I ain’t finna hurt you.”“I’m not scared. I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be in the house I guess.”The man laughed some more. “How long you been stayin’ here?”“Almost two. Claire hadalways been more like her mother than Marcia, or even Claire herself, hadever wanted to admit. Claire's mother was one of those people who neveraltered their opinion about anything they deemed important. It was less amatter of right and wrong than a matter of principle. Constancy itselfwas the chief virtue, even if one was dead wrong about the particulars.Not that Claire or her mother would ever admit that they were dead wrong,or even a little off, about anything. The very fact that. More

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