Gio grabbed a fistful of leaves and let each leaf fall to the ground one by one like petals. “Why the hell they wanna hear from me?” I gripped his shoulder. I finally understood how Mr. Martin felt that day in his office. He saw in me something I couldn’t see for myself. An opportunity to be great. “Because you were in prison. You were in a gang. You were failed by the system. Your mom died young. And you’re brown and you’re from the Bronx. Fuck. You have it all.” Gio started to say something but stopped. He stood up. “I should probably get going.”
