Yell Out / Do You

by Stephanie Perry Moore

  The announcer said, “Miss Ella Blount, on behalf of all the cheerleaders in this competition today, we present you with a bouquet of roses. We heard about the awful shooting, and we are truly thankful you are okay. While this is a competition, there is still camaraderie and a bond among those competing.”

  I looked over at my parents who were supporting us as a unit for the first time ever. I smiled. I looked over at my sister and girlfriends who were holding hands and happy for the first time in a long time. I smiled. I looked at my boyfriend in the stands with the other football players. They were excited we did well, and it made me smile.

  I thought about the fact that I had helped Leo, Randal, and Eva understand that hard work pays off. I was a sweetheart and sometimes a knucklehead. I had learned so much in a few weeks. If you really truly care about people, you needed to stand up and help them do the right thing. You have to be willing to let them fall on their own if they don’t want to do right.

  It was hard being a teen, but I could make it easier by doing my part. I was still here for a reason, and I wasn’t going to waste a day. My team wanted me to sit with them as we waited on the floor for the results. When it was announced that we won second place, we were as excited as if we’d taken first. Everyone who came to cheer on the Lockwood Lions let out joyous screams.

  YOU’VE READ her

  POINT OF VIEW …

  HOW DOES his

  POINT OF VIEW DIFFER?

  READ THE FOLLOWING BOOK.

  The Lockwood High cheer squad has it all—sass, looks, and all the right moves. But everything isn’t always as perfect as it seems. Because where there’s cheer, there’s drama. And then there are the ballers—hot, tough, and on point. But what’s going to win out—life’s pressures or their NFL dreams?

  Leo Steele is the toughest

  thug in school—and football is his life.

  But when life gets tough, will football win?

  DO YOU

  Stephanie Perry Moore

  & Derrick Moore

  BALLER SWAG

  All That

  No Hating

  Do You

  Be Real

  Got Pride

  Copyright © 2012 by Saddleback Educational Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording scanning, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher. SADDLEBACK EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING and any associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Saddleback Educational Publishing.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-61651-886-8

  ISBN-10: 1-61651-886-3

  eBook: 978-1-61247-620-9

  Printed in Guangzhou, China

  0000/00-00-00

  16 15 14 13 12 1 2 3 4 5

  To both Mr. and Mrs. Steve Shadrach &

  Mr. and Mrs. Jim Sanders (Derrick’s Mentors)

  We have continuously been able to soar because of

  your help. Thanks to you opening your homes and

  hearts, we have been able to make a difference in this

  world. You have been a role model for us on how to do

  life big. What a blessing to have you care so much.

  You are magnifcent people … we love you!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  When you have big dreams, you have to be committed to making them come true. You have to aggressively equip yourself with the skills needed for your journey. You cannot be lazy. You cannot rest. You cannot underestimate those who are working hard as well because they also want your dream. If you find yourself going backwards, don’t blame your circumstances, blame yourself.

  So what you might not have the best home life, be the smartest, or have finances to make your way easier. You have a mind and you have drive. Use what you have to gain everything you want. Make wise choices. Message we want you to grasp: a genuine baller is “the man” because he works at it, takes nothing for granted, and seizes all opportunities. Set out to accomplish greatness. You are capable of that and much more. Do you.

  Here is an enormous thank you for all who help us “do” well.

  To our parents: Dr. Franklin and Shirley Perry Sr., and Ann Redding, because you stood steadfast and did your jobs as great parents, we had a chance to do remarkable things.

  For my publisher, especially my editor, Carol Pizer, because you embraced the writing, we have a chance to help young people reach their dreams.

  To our extended family: brothers, Dennis Perry and Victor Moore, sister, Sherry Moore, godparents, Walter and Marjorie Kimbrough, young nephews, Franklin Perry III, Kadarius Moore, and godsons, Danton Lynn, Dakari Jones, and Dorian Lee, because of your love, we are able to write stories that hopefully will help others love themselves.

  To our assistants: Joy Spencer and Keisha King, because you all did your jobs, we were able to do ours.

  To our friends who mean so much: Paul and Susan Johnson, Chan and Laurie Gailey, Antonio and Gloria London, Chett and Lakeba Williams, Jay and Deborah Spencer, Bobby and Sarah Lundy, Harry and Torian Colon, Byron and Kim Forest, Donald and Deborah Bradley, because you are there for us, we are able to be there for others.

  To our teens: Dustyn, Sydni, and Sheldyn, because you are our growing babies, we love so much, and we work hard daily to show you the way.

  To the media specialists, school administrators, teachers, and educational companies across the country who support us, especially the great folks in Atlanta Public Schools, because you allowed us to work with your great students, we were able to pen this cool series that we hope will bless many.

  To our new readers who we believe will reach their goals. Because you have passion, you can do anything but fail.

  And to our Lord, who has blessed us with this opportunity to create and help. Because You have given us a desire to help struggling readers, we hope we are making you proud.

  CHAPTER 1

  Move On

  Lions we’re 3–0,” Coach Strong said to us in the locker room after the football game. “And I’m so proud of each and every one of you. You’ve been digging deep. You’ve been stepping up. Individually, you’ve been covering your assignments. And collectively, we’ve been stellar. I’m proud of your effort.”

  “So, Coach, do we get tomorrow off? No film, right?” Waxton, our star running back yelled out.

  “We wanna make it 4–0, don’t we?” Coach yelled back. “I’ll see you all tomorrow at eleven. Head on out to the buses so we can get back to the school. Steele, I need to see you real quick.”

  “Yes, sir, Coach,” I said immediately, going to see the man I admired.

  I had no clue what Coach wanted from me. I had a pretty good game. Two sacks, a forced fumble, six tackles, two for a loss, and seven assists. Heck, he should have been giving me the defensive player of the game award. I would have thought there was something positive he wanted to talk to me about, except the way he called my name with irritation let me know he was not pleased with Leo Steele.

  “You wanted to see me, Coach?” I asked.

  “You played a tremendous game tonight, son.”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  “But I got a problem.”

  “Yeah, Coach?”

  “I’ve been checking in with all the teachers, asking them to let me know if any of my players are failing. Right now you are failing math and history. Boy, what are you doing? Sleeping in class?” he lectured. “Midterms are coming up. Unless you want to be sitting on the sidelines and cheering like the girls with pom-poms, you’d better get it together. Am I making myself clear? If you need a tutor, open your mouth. No, no, I take that back. There’s gonna be mandatory tutoring for the next couple of Saturdays in the school library. You be there.”

  Not wanting to go, I asked, “Tomorrow? We got practice, Coach.”

  “We’re watching film at eleven. Tutoring is at ten. Go there for an hour and then come on to practice. I just don�
�t get it with you, Steele. You’re one of my most aggressive players. You go get it on the field. You know what you want to do, and you handle your business. Aren’t you trying to play D1 ball?”

  “Yes, sir, Coach.”

  “Well, they don’t take idiots. So if that’s your goal, if that’s what you’re trying to do, then I suggest you get on your work. It’s like when you double team. You get down low, and you put more into it and make sure you quickly get off your blocks. If the subject is hard, then you got to put more into it as well. No excuses. If the grades don’t come up, you’re off the team.”

  On the bus ride back to Lockwood High School, my teammates were fired up. Inwardly, I, too, was excited we were 3–0. We knew we had a great team. We were good on offense and defense. However, since I got lectured, I was not as excited as they were. How was I going to get me together? Being taken out of the starting line—that was not an option.

  “So you gonna hang out with us or what, man?” Landon asked when we got back to his car in the school parking lot.

  “Nah, dude, just take me home.”

  “Why? There are a couple of sets we need to fly by.”

  “Man, I need to go study.”

  “On a Friday night, Leo, really? You’re talking to me.”

  “Coach just told me if I don’t handle my business, I am going to be watching y’all play. So, uh, take me home.”

  “Dang, I didn’t know it was like that. Let me get you there quick. We need you on defense.”

  On the ride to my place, it was a little quiet in Landon’s car. For a preacher’s kid, he tried hard to be a bad boy. He’d have his music blaring, and it was not gospel. It was hardcore nasty rap, but now the music was off.

  “What’s up with you, man? I haven’t seen Pastor King at any of the games.”

  “I know, right? He says he’s my number-one fan, and he wants me to get out there and do my thing. Yet every Friday night, he’s out of town speaking somewhere trying to save some soul but forgetting about his own son. You know what I’m saying?” Landon disdained.

  Finally, we reached my apartment and I got out. “Man, just talk to him. Go home tonight.”

  Landon’s dad was not the only parent who had not come to our games this year. My mom was absent as well. Ever since she found the wrong dude to whisper the right things in her ear over the summer, she had been wanting to be with him more than me. When I opened the front door and walked inside, I did not know how interested in him she was until I saw both of them there packing everything.

  “Mom, what’s going on?” I hollered.

  “Calm down, Leo, let me explain,” she said, rising from wrapping glass in newspaper.

  I asked, “What are you guys doing? Tell me we’re not moving in with him.”

  “Leo, this is my boyfriend, Frankie. Well, he’s wanted to meet you lots of times, but with your football schedule it’s just been impossible.”

  Frankie stuck out his hand trying to impress my mom, but I would not shake it. I looked at it as if it had cyanide on it. I felt if I touched it, my hand would dissolve away or something. I mean, here was this man helping my mom pack up our place, and I didn’t know anything about it.

  “Mom, what’s going on?”

  She said, “The little job I have here is not going to advance me forward. Frankie feels—”

  Cutting her off, I huffed, “Frankie feels? Who cares what he feels?”

  Frankie stepped to me and said, “Hey, watch your mouth with your mom, son.”

  “I’m not your son,” I scoffed.

  My dad died when I was in elementary school. I was actually with him. We were in a bad car accident, and he did not make it. At the time, I did not know much about adult things. I kept hearing my mom cry at night, saying she did not know how we were going to make it. I always respected the fact that she did not get with any old joker to help her pay bills. So now I was surprised this Frankie guy had influence over her.

  “Leo, calm down and step back.”

  The little shrimp my mom was with might have thought he was tough, but I could take him. I was six three and a half, two hundred twenty-five pounds. He looked to be about five eight, one sixty-five tops. I could snap him.

  “Mom, I’m not moving in with this guy. Where does he live anyway? I gotta stay in this school zone so that I can play for the Lions. We’re going to win state.”

  “Y’all have only won three games. I think it’s pretty premature of you to talk about how y’all gonna win state,” Frankie offered.

  “Come on, this is insulting,” I said to my mom. I’ll bet that jerk probably wished he played back in the day. I completely ignored him.

  Frankie got in my mom’s face. “He is not coming with me. No way. I’m not taking care of any grown man. No way.”

  “Frankie, let me talk to him,” my mom said, trying to calm the guy down.

  “Mom, what is he talking about? You can’t go somewhere without me.”

  The look on Frankie’s face spoke volumes. The sly way he held his lips and the chuckle he had in his voice told me I was wrong. My mom was planning to move in with some man she had not even known for six months and leave her son. I looked at her like, You gotta explain this.

  Her eyes were watering as she said, “Okay, I know you probably think this doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I just need a fresh start. I need to get away, and you’re eighteen. You have so much invested here. I’m going to move to New York with Frankie. I’m going to be able to send some money back to you. I just got to get away, Leo. You’ll be okay.”

  I shook my head and walked down the hall to my room and slammed the door. My bed was gone. I did not understand this, but with the long away game, an equally long ride home, tough talk with the coach, and now finding out that my world was turning upside down, I didn’t care. I was exhausted. I curled up on the floor. My plan was to deal with all of this the next day.

  Coach was going over film in the team meeting. I was so glad that I had a good game the night before because whatever he was saying was going in one ear and coming out the other. It was not that I was not trying to figure out how I could be better because I did miss a couple of assignments. However, I took his criticism like a man; but honestly, I had bigger fish to contend with. At the moment I was drowning in uncertainty and letting the worry get the best of me. How was I going to take care of myself? Yeah, I heard my mom talk a good game about sending some money back to me. However, our apartment was $650 a month. While the government paid for half of that, I could not even afford $325.

  “Steele, are you listening?” Coach Strong called me out.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He asked, “What’d I just say, man?”

  And the whole team laughed at me because I could not repeat his critique. Coach Grey was a sweet older gentleman and our defensive coordinator. Though he was a white dude, he could keep the brothers in line. When Coach Grey called me out of the team meeting, I immediately went into defense mode.

  “I’m sorry, Coach, I just got a lot on my mind. I know it seemed like I was asleep, like I wasn’t paying attention. I was in it. You know I wanna get better.”

  “No, no, Steele. I just wanted to let you know your mom wants to see you. She’s in the parking lot.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks, Coach. I’ll be right back.”

  Immediately I thought I’d been stressing for nothing. Finally, my mom came to her senses and did not want to wait until I got home to reverse the idiotic junk she told me the night before. However, when I got outside and saw a U-Haul hitched to the back of her car and the jerk, Frankie, driving it, my stomach got queasy.

  My mom stood out with her arms open wide. The sick feeling in my gut intensified. She was about to be out.

  “Dang, Ma, I thought we had some time.”

  “Well, you saw me packing up last night, Leo. There’s no need to prolong this. I really need to try to start over. Frankie has a job waiting for me up North.”

  “What kind of job, Mom?
What does he have that you can’t do down here?”

  “Management at a hotel. I’ve been cleaning houses all my life, and now I can be over ladies doing it in one of those big, fancy-schmancy, high-dollar hotels. I got to try it, sweetie, and if I could take you with me, I would. I wanted to give you this money.” She opened my hand and said, “It’s not a lot.”

  I looked down at about seventy dollars. That was definitely not a lot.

  “Also, here’s the thing … here are all of your clothes, baby,” she hesitated, pointing to the back of the car. “Frankie’s getting them now.”

  “You could’ve just left them. I know I gotta get my own furniture and stuff because you leased all my furniture.”

  “Well, I couldn’t tell you last night, baby, because you were so upset, and you left out and—”

  “What else, Mom? What else is there to let me know?”

  “I don’t have the apartment anymore. You can’t stay there, sweetie.”

  “So where am I suppose to live?”

  Frankie handed me my clothes in an old army bag. “That’s your problem to figure out, big man.”

  “Mom, are you serious?” I said, wondering what was wrong with her.

  I always came first in her life, but she was acting as if the digits one and eight put together meant that she did not have to take care of her son any longer. While I was growing up, my life had lots of desires and needs. I felt her decision was a horrible one. Yet I knew my place. I was still a kid. I was her kid. She did not raise me to talk back. My smart mouth was for the streets. Why didn’t she care? I wanted to shake her and punch him.

  “Look, I’m still going to be paying for your cell phone. I’m going to be calling and checking up on you. I know you’ll figure it out,” she sobbed.

  “We need to get on the road,” Frankie said, pulling my mom back to the U-Haul.