Angie Thomas

“Thing is, though,” he said, “if I can’t love and accept myself just as I am, why the hell would I expect anybody else to?”

I can’t fight away a smile. “Will you remember this?”

“Forever.”

Earlier, Mrs. Tucker asked him where he was from too.

“Earth,” he said. “Still debating if I’m staying, though.”

The class group chat agreed—he’s our favorite bus driver so far.

Thug Life stood for ‘The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody.’”

My body’s so used to waking up at five, it doesn’t care if it’s Saturday morning or not.

you don’t kill someone for opening a car door. If you do, you shouldn’t be a cop.”

“I could’ve stopped him from selling drugs. Then people wouldn’t be calling him a thug. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you; I wanted to, but everybody who knows I was in the car acts like I’m made out of glass. You treated me normal. You were my normal.”

Khalil, I’ll never forget.

I’ll never give up.

I’ll never be quiet.

I promise.

I squeeze through sweaty bodies and follow Kenya, her curls bouncing past her shoulders.

I ain’t as hard as my pops, ain’t as street as my pops, ain’t as good at anything as him.