"Yo, meet me at Burkes!" My cousin Tye always said. "Hurry up before you miss happy hour!"
Cousin Tye was one of the only dudes in my family that kept a nine-to-five and never wanted anything to do with street stuff. Dude was allergic to selling drugs. He was also the cousin whom I talked to about those classic American dramas that most teenagers go through, like what I should wear to the prom, potential places that would hire me if I decided to get a legit job like him and fantastic places to hang around the city where trouble never cared to visit. Kicking it with Tye was like a break from the reality of the violent neighborhood I lived in.
