This Is My America(53)

I settle a bit when I see everyone is into themselves, laughing and talking. Not worried about me.

I make my way to Mandy’s massive kitchen. My mouth drops when I look out the window. Tasha and Quincy are out on the back deck.

Betrayal sets in. I asked both of them separately if they were going. Quincy practically begged me not to go, so I had to play off like he was right.

I go to meet them outside. Greeted by the sound of Tasha laughing at Quincy telling her something.

“Surprise seeing you here,” I say to Tasha, then glare at Quincy.

“Changed my mind,” Tasha says.

“And you weren’t gonna say something?” I lean against the post.

“I knew I’d see you. Seems like you’ve been the one too busy for me lately.” Tasha’s tone is icy; there’s not even a hint she’s joking around. “I’m not sitting around to wait for you to call me, then come running at your begging.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Quincy says to me. “I tried to tell you.”

“Why? Am I ruining a fun night for y’all?”

Quincy furrows his brow and lowers his voice. “No, because your brother is a suspect in the murder of the girl they’ve memorialized with photos up there.”

Quincy points inside at a white poster board with Angela’s photo in the middle, signatures and notes written on it by people at the party.



“Anyone could feel like dragging you outta here, and you wouldn’t find anyone to help. Everyone drunk. This is dangerous. This how mobs get started,” Quincy says.

I don’t speak. Hurt flits in my eyes, because I still feel betrayed.

“I’m going inside.” Tasha begins to walk away with a drink in her hand.

“I’m trying to help my brother,” I say. “You not the only one who’s got shit falling on them.”

“All right, both of you, stop,” Quincy says. “Come here, Tracy.”

Quincy leads me to the edge of the deck, leaving behind Tasha, who’s sipping on a beer even though she hates to drink.

“Track team’s here. Coach was pissed the team’s been fighting. Pro-and anti-Jamal camps. I thought I’d come to help ask around. I’m not here to party. But seriously, you, here? Come on.”

“I’m not alone.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“Figures,” Quincy says. “Just let him ask around.”

“He is.”

Quincy leans in closer. “What did Bev say?”

“Kept things close to her chest,” I say. “Said she’d look into it. Jamal’s not answering my texts anymore. I’m worried time is running out for him and it won’t matter what was going down at the Pike.”



“So, you came here to talk to Chris again?” Quincy was livid when he found out I confronted Chris at Angela’s grave. He thought I was reckless, even though I brought Dean.

“No.” I avoid his eyes because that would be ideal. “I came to talk to Mandy. I thought maybe she knew what Angela was working on. She was her best friend. She lied to Natalie about seeing me leave the newsroom so they’d stop suspecting I trashed it. She could be an ally to me.”

“And you thought going to a party with the entire school that’s been treating you like trash was a good idea?”

“The sooner I talk to her, the sooner I can go.”

Quincy huffs. Then leans his back against the deck rail.

“Over there.” Quincy points to Mandy, who’s out in her backyard, rocking on an old swing set, while the rest of the world is getting high and drunk.

I walk down the steps toward Mandy. Quincy pulls at the hem of my shirt for me to stop, but I don’t. He hangs back by the gazebo and watches me.

I take Mandy by surprise when she looks up. She stomps her feet down to stop from swinging and opens her mouth to speak. Before she can ask me what I’m doing here, I interrupt.

“I won’t be here long. I know this is hard on you with Angela gone, but I’m here because I also want to know the truth about what happened to her.”



Mandy doesn’t answer right away. I notice her eyes are puffy and red. I can sense the ache of pain shuffling through her body. I know the feeling, when you’ve been through so much you can’t even talk because it hurts so much.

“Did you know Angela and Jamal were seeing each other?” I take a chance and let out their secret.

“Of course.” Mandy musters an eye roll.

“Did you know she wanted me to work on some exposé?”

Mandy nods slowly. Looking around, checking to see if anyone else is within hearing distance. I look to where Quincy was waiting and notice he’s gone now. He’s moved up the stairs to the top deck where Tasha waits.

“You think my brother killed her?”

“I’m not talking about it.” Mandy grips the swing handles and takes a seat. She’s not yelling at me to leave, so I take a seat next to her.

“I know that Jamal was worried about her,” I say. “Before she went to the Pike.”

“I can’t talk about it.”

Mandy flicks her eyes. There’s fear there.

“If you know who killed Angela, you have to say something.”