“You talk about wanting to be somebody, you talk about basketball, you talk about making your family proud, but then you act like this. What do you think people are going to think of you now?”
I knew, and the easiest place for us to get beer. Guzzo had lifted abottle once. I had too.
Yo, Im Quinn I'm a thief. Normally I steal from my mom and jerry's.
That was another part of the Friday night routine: I always swiped a flaskful of Ma’s bourbon.
Gleiten: 2
What's up I'm Rashad. I'm accused of being a "thug" and was accused of stealing from a store.
“Fuckin’ thugs can’t just do what you’re told. Need to learn how to respect authority. And I’m gonna teach you,” he taunted, almost whispering in my ear.
Gleiten: 3
"You walk in, grab what you want, and walk out. No money spent. But I never stole nothing from anywhere. Again, too scared of what my pops would do to me."
Hey, Im Quinn I play basketball get good grades and alot of people think Im a "model kid," or "All-American boy."
He looks up to you. Spend some time with him. Take him out for pizza after. Once basketball starts we’ll never see you. Take him out for lunch.”
So Friday afternoons I just needed to get his bag packed and get him over there. He could do it all himself—he was in seventh grade, for God’s sake—but Ma hammered me with: “Quinn, you need to take some responsibility.”
That was my role: the dutiful son, the All-American boy with an All-American fifteen foot deadeye jump shot and an All American 3.5 GPA.
Gleiten: 0
"In my bag? Man, ain’t nobody stealing nothing,” I explained, getting back to my feet. My hands were already up, a reflex from seeing a cop coming toward me."
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