Dear Justyce (Dear Martin, #2)

by Nic Stone

We don’t go to good colleges. We don’t have a perfect family like everybody else.

Honestly, we don’t even know if we’ll live past the age of 18.

I know people will listen. You’re our voice.

“Maybe they just jealous cuz they ain’t never won nothin’.”

blue-suited Dad-stealing monsters

“Those assholes can’t seem to care about being offensive, so why should I give a damn about being agreeable?”

and it was almost as though falling into the life of crime everybody expected from him was (sorta) unavoidable?

because what even is that shit and why would anyone put it on a burger?).

Meanwhile ain’t no ceremonies for kids like us, but if we get in trouble we get treated like adults.”

Black Power is giving power to people who have not had power to determine their destiny.

If Brock or Conrad steals a cell phone in the mall, they get a finger wagged in they face and gotta volunteer in a soup kitchen a couple times. I get branded a “career criminal” and locked up with the key thrown out.

I needed backup. Support without judgment. People who hadn’t—and wouldn’t—give up on me. I needed a family.

I guess I didn’t realize just how big of a difference it could make to have somebody really believe in you.

How the hell’s a person supposed to give something they ain’t never had?

And that’s what it comes down to. We find the families we were desperate for and learn different ways of going about things. Ways that sometimes land us in places/positions we don’t really wanna be in.

knowing the most fictional part is the support Quan receives.