>“This nigga had his hands all down my pants and shit,” Mike was saying, “I’m like ‘you think I’m ‘bout to get popped by some Peewee set in this shit?’ But this dude keeps tryna cop a feel.”

The crowd that had gathered around Mike in the parking lot had expanded beyond his usual group of friends, everyone listening intently to his story. I took another drag from my cigarette, leaning against my car, not technically far enough away from the school to be smoking. The content of his story wasn’t terribly interesting, but his charisma captured their attention.

He was an intimidating kid, at six foot two and muscular. His authoritative dark brown eyes gazed callously from under a cocked hat. He had the naïve confidence of a kid with thoughts of immorta...

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