Raised in a Gang

Chapter 5

Tyra POV

"Hey, Ty-Ty!" Ray's voice called out from the distance. That surely gained me a few glares from girls walking past. It wasn't hard to know who 'Ty-Ty' was since I was the only one in my school who's name has anything to do with 'Ty'. I know right? No Tyler's, Tyrell's, Tyric's, Tyson's or anything of that sort. It was just Tyra... Me. It's pretty shocking that not even a Tyler is in my school... anymore. A school in Compton and there's no Tyrell or Tyler but there is a Tyra.

"Hey, Ray Ray!" I said back to him once he caught up with me.

"What class you got?" Ray asked.

I rolled my eyes and giggled. "What class do you have?" I corrected.

He didn't get the hint that I was correcting him because he retorted with "I asked you first."

I sighed and shook my head.

"Stop sighing and answer my question. What class you got?"

I shook my head at his horrible grammar and replied. "English, the class you're obviously failing."

He gasped. "How did you know?"

I rolled my eyes playfully and said, "Because you speak like you're from the hood."

He scoffed like he was offended and grabbed my forehead. "Is you sick?" he said, pretending to take my temperature.

"Yes. Why?"

"Because, guh, Compton is as hood as it's going to get."

I laughed and shook my head. "Boy please. You haven't been to the Five Burroughs, Harlem, or Philly."

Ray laughed aloud and pretended to wipe his eye from tears of laughter.

"You're not from the West Coast, are you?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Born and raised in Compton. But I never found it ... scary, or ghetto. I mean, it's all hype, right?"

He smiled and nodded. "All hype.." he trailed off.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing, nothing at all. Just... A lot of things happen here that you obviously haven't witnessed."

I scoffed and shook my head. "The closest I've been to any 'action' was a few nights ago when I heard a couple gunshots by my house followed by some random guy edging on a guy named Chres to shoot a guy named Jaden. I heard a lot of commotion but excused it nonetheless."

He was frozen and the colour from his face drained before he shook his head quickly and kept pace with me.

"That's not wassup, but I guess you shouldn't sweat it, Ty-Ty." he said.

I uneasily looked at him and shrugged the thought off, as if it'd be right anyways. He couldn't have been the guy from that night. He's too sweet. Of course, it'd explain how he got all bloody. But I'd refuse to believe that it was true.

"What class do you have?" I asked, changing the subject."

"Geometry." he said.

"That's a ninth grade course." I said unbelievingly.

"Thanks for making me feel dumb," he said playfully. "But I failed the final exam because I didn't show up half of the year and now I have to repeat the class."

"So you were left back?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Naw. It was just math. I passed the other tests, just always had a problem with math."