The Weight of Blood (28)

The Black Student Union consisted of half the Black kids at Springville High. Wendy found them somewhat militant in their approach. Not all white people were racist, but BSU sure had a way of making everyone feel like it. What if Kenny started acting like them? she thought. What would people think? And what would people say about her? Other than Jules’s crude comments about Kenny’s potential dick size, no one really made a big deal about her dating a Black guy. Most commended her for landing the town’s celebrity. But all that praise could easily switch to hate, something she couldn’t afford.

The BSU were dressed head to toe in black, holding blown-up posters of Jules at the pep rally. And standing in front was none other than Kali Scott, shouting at her audience.

“We are sick and tired of the lack of action taken by our school’s administration! There have been no consequences for the student who arrived at a school function in blackface, a disgusting racist spectacle. It is a demeaning and hurtful, stereotypical misrepresentation of who we are. Yet this school district feels this blatant disrespect doesn’t deserve punishment.

“We’ve brought up issues like this to teachers and administrators before. But our complaints have gone nowhere. The lack of repercussions for these hurtful actions have forced students of color into a hostile learning environment. We demand action! If the student isn’t removed, we’ll alert the press of every racist act that has happened in this school. And we have receipts.”

Students mumbled among themselves. Wendy locked eyes with Kali, the corner of her mouth curving into a smirk.

“And while you were all so desperate to have a joint prom, it wasn’t lost on us that the country club refused to host it because that would mean they would have to open their doors to people of color. So we will have weekly protests outside the country club until it admits to its racist practices.”

Wendy’s heart slammed into her chest. No, Kali couldn’t bring any negative attention to prom. She had worked too hard for it to not go as planned.

The hall monitors finally managed to disperse the crowd, pushing the Black Student Union aside to permit everyone into the caf for lunch. Wendy seized her chance and grabbed Kali’s arm.

“Kali,” she said through clenched teeth, “what are you doing?”

Kali looked down at the hand on her elbow, narrowing her eyes. Wendy yanked back her hand and straightened.

“I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“But Jules didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Wendy insisted. “It was stupid, but there’s no need to drag prom into—”

“She knew exactly what she was doing,” Kali snapped. “And it wasn’t just her in blackface. It was her pretending to be a Black student. Openly mocking Black people. Is that what you think we all look like?”

“No! Not at all!”

“You’re her best friend. You condone that bullshit, yet you’re dating my brother. What does that say about you?”

“I don’t condone it! I told her it was messed up!” Wendy felt herself losing her footing.

“Whatever. You don’t give a damn.”

Wendy balked. “What do you mean? Don’t you see me trying to plan this prom for everyone to go to? So what, some of them are still gonna have prom at the country club, but we’re still gonna have ours, and a lot more people are gonna be at that one.”

Kali leaned back with a smirk. “You really don’t think we see right through you and this little show you’re putting on, do you?”

Wendy blinked, her lungs hardening. “What?” she squeaked.

“You’re pushing this prom shit so you get to go with Kenny because otherwise, you wouldn’t go to prom at all, and I know that was eating you alive.”

Kenny’s morning smoothie curdled in Wendy’s stomach, threatening to bubble up.

“You’re also pushing this so you can look like the perfect little ‘white ally,’ thinking that’s gonna make my brother stay with you as he rises to the top. You trying to look like you were always down, the woke bae we invite to the barbecue. This whole charade is all about you!”

Wendy’s throat constricted. “That’s not true. I’m trying to . . . I’m trying to help . . .”

“Yeah, sure you are.” Kali chuckled, picking up her book bag. “You wanna help Black people? How about you start by actually helping them instead of just helping yourself?”

Kali stormed off, leaving Wendy speechless.

At that moment, Kenny strolled around the corner, book bag hanging off his shoulder; the timing so impeccable it felt comedic.

“Hey! What’s up?” he said, kissing her forehead. “What are you standing out here for?”

Wendy gave him a tight smile. She had no doubt that he knew all about the protest and didn’t tell her. What else is he keeping from me?

Jules wrapped a long curl around her pinky, swinging her crossed leg, a smug grin on her face. She didn’t typically relish being in the principal’s office. Most days, Jules didn’t pay the sad, balding little man any mind. But today, she couldn’t wait to see her daddy eat him for lunch.

“So what’s this all about, Steve? Jules seems to think she’s in some kind of trouble, and I know you all know better than to waste my time.”

Keith Marshall, CEO of Marshall’s Hardware, sat across from Mr. O’Donnell. Everything from his hair to his shoes screamed corporate life, corner offices, and meetings on the golf course. A life Mr. O’Donnell would never know about. He was a pathetic little man on a power trip.