The Weight of Blood (73)

Ross narrowed his eyes. “And you must be hard of hearing because I said to BACK UP! Another ten feet!”

“We’re not on private property,” a young Black girl snapped. “We can stand where we want!”

The group slowed to a halt, all eyes falling on West.

He sighed. “Ma’am. A word?”

Mrs. Morgan gave him a curt nod and they stepped aside.

“Say, is this all really necessary?” he asked, waving his hand at the crowd.

She shrugged. “The kids are just exercising their constitutional right to free speech.”

“By making a bunch of noise about water under the bridge?”

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Guess we have a difference of opinion there. Real question is if your boys are gonna behave themselves tonight, which is why I’m here, to act as an adult witness. I’m sure your department doesn’t want any messy press.”

West’s upper lip stiffened. “You right. We don’t want no trouble.”

“Neither do they.”

“Then we in agreement. As long as everyone stays behind the line.”

Mrs. Morgan regarded the invisible border. “Sounds reasonable.”

West ground his teeth. He hated feeling like he was answering to some woman. “Alright. I’m heading on back.”

“Hey, Pa.” Deputy West ran over to the sheriff’s car. “Um, what’s up with the new guy?”

“Ross?”

“Yeah? You don’t think he got a couple of screws loose?”

West paused. “I don’t get your meaning, son.”

“He’s a little . . . hot-tempered. This might not, well, just thinking maybe this ain’t the best place for him tonight.”

The men glanced over their shoulders at Officer Ross, openly glaring at the crowd. During his interview, Ross had admitted he had been released from his previous position due to a “misunderstanding.” But West hadn’t pushed any further. He had spectacular references and they really needed the manpower.

Still, a little reminder could go a long way. It’d make them look like they had some good sense.

West charged back toward his men. “This is a peaceful protest and y’all gonna keep it peaceful! Whatever you do, do not lay one hand on these kids. Absolutely no weapons!” He looked pointedly at Ross. “And I don’t even want to hear about your thumb being near your holster. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” the men mumbled.

West tipped his hat at Mrs. Morgan and got in his truck, heading for home. The wife had promised to leave a plate out for him, and he could almost taste the crisp cold beer waiting in the fridge. He didn’t plan to leave the house again all evening. The boys could handle whatever came up.

And with the prom behind them, tomorrow would be another beautiful day in Springville.

Kenny’s hand didn’t leave the dip in Maddy’s spine all night. Even when they sat down, he seized any opportunity to touch her in some small proprietary way. His clammy palms felt like raw chicken cutlets as he held hers under the table. He was nervous, and she liked that he was nervous. It made her feel less alone. But he didn’t need to be. She was having the best night of her life. And that’s when it truly sank in, that their differences brought them together and made them whole. They didn’t need to be on edge; they could just be themselves.

“Well, what do you feel like doing next?” Kenny asked. “Dessert? Photo booth? More dancing?”

She looked around the room and pointed at the refreshment table. “We can have some punch?”

Kenny glanced over at the crystal bowl and grimaced.

“Yeah, let’s get you some water instead,” he said, drawing her closer. “Don’t trust it.”

Maddy frowned. What’s not to trust about punch?

“What’s up, Kenny!”

Kenny stiffened at the voice, whipping around and throwing himself in front of Maddy. “Oh. Uh, hey,” he said, seeming surprised.

Jada’s satin burnt-orange dress looked beautiful against her chocolate skin. Her long locs were curled and pinned up with crystals.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” she said, as if impressed. “But glad you did.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Maddy sensed a strange hesitancy, a different type of nervousness in him. She brushed a finger over his knuckles—something she’d felt him do before—hoping to put him at ease.

Jada nodded at her. “You look real pretty, Maddy.”

“Thank you,” she said, becoming more comfortable with compliments and attention. “You look really pretty too.”

Kenny smiled at Maddy proudly, giving her side a light squeeze.

“Well, I’m having a little party tomorrow. Sort of an after-the-after-prom. Y’all wanna come?”

He blinked, mouth popping open. “Yeah! I mean, that’d be cool. We’ll come. Thanks.”

Maddy liked the way he answered for them and leaned into his chest, holding in a giggle.

“Cool. I’ll holla at y’all later then. Good luck tonight!”

“Thank you,” they said in unison.

Good luck?

“Alright, y’all,” the DJ’s voice came over the speaker. “Don’t forget to vote for the king and queen. We’re tallying up them ballots in about ten minutes.”