This Is My America(71)

My voice catches. I take a breath to calm myself.

“But we can stop it. We can be vigilant and look out for each other. And now my father has a second chance. Some of you know about Innocence X and what they do. Well, a representative is here tonight because he’s working on my daddy’s appeal. Many of you were here when my daddy went through his trial. Some of you even shared or tried to share information with the police, but they didn’t follow up. This is your chance to right that wrong. Retrace that time seven years ago. Every memory is important. He’s a good man. An innocent man. And he has less than two hundred and fifty days to live. If you know something, anything, please help us free my daddy. Free James.”

The audience rises, fists up, and chants, “Free James. Free James. Free James.”

I’m taken aback by the crowd being moved. Hope fills me up, and I’m glad I took the moment that was supposed to be about last night to focus on Daddy. When the crowd quiets, I introduce Steve and give out his number. Frantically, people take down his information. Then I end by sharing the dates for my next Know Your Rights workshops.

Pastor Jenkins closes out, using this as an opportunity to highlight the church, so I dip out into the hallway to catch my breath.



I spot Dean. I know him too well. He’s never been good about pretending things weren’t the way they were. I can see he’s burning to talk about what happened, in a lot more detail. He follows me into the hallway, catches me by surprise, and kisses me on the cheek.

I step back. “Not here.”

He bites that side lip, and his dimple appears and disappears.

“You think this will help with catching whoever was sending that message to us last night?” I say.

“I hope so. If people can stop making it about themselves. It was driving me crazy that everyone was making it about them,” Dean says. “All the complaints about the police. Why can’t they focus on you and your family? Y’all are the ones that were hurt.”

I pause. I also wanted everyone to focus on how to help my family. But I get it. Trusting someone who’s been harassing all our lives to now stop harassment from escalating isn’t easy. This isn’t one moment in time, but a longer one that bleeds in and out of all our lives. Our history of Blackness in America. Dean doesn’t get that. I watch him, wondering if he ever will.

Dean takes my hand, leading me away from the doors and around the corner, like we’re a couple. I take my hand back. Not here. Not now. I have too many questions, like will his mom make things harder for us? And really, I want to get back to the community meeting, hear what people have to say. I wish he didn’t come so I could focus on this and not him.

“You okay?” Dean asks.



I’m about to answer him, but then I realize he’s talking about what happened before our kiss—the attack. A sick billowing feeling rushes through my stomach.

I nod unconvincingly. “You?”

There’s more to what I’m asking him. It’s one word that wants to drill down to the scare last night, our kiss, my uncertainty.

Dean doesn’t answer. My eyes well; it hurts too much. I want to run from facing a decision.

“Will you ride with me so we can talk…about last night?” Dean’s eyes carry so much pain, hurt from me pushing him away. It stings to watch.

“I’ll meet you after.” I tug his shirt when he looks away. “I promise.”

Dean nods.

Last night, Dean was everything I’d been waiting for, but then at the community meeting he was the farthest thing from my thoughts. All I could think about was rushing back to the community meeting. The flutter from seeing Quincy. I swallow hard because I don’t have an answer about Dean or Quincy—who I can’t seem to shake.





WILL WE EVER BE


THE SAME?

Dean hangs by his steps, so I perch myself on top of the rail. I mist up at the carvings DE + TB TAKE THE WORLD and run my finger around our initials. I can always tell what kind of mood his mama is in based on whether we go straight inside the house or hang out on the porch.

I’m worried things will never be the same. There’s weird tension now since the community meeting. I don’t know how our kiss might affect our friendship, but I also don’t want to run away from facing the truth. I take a long breath as Dean keeps his head down.

“Ready to talk?” A lump builds in my throat. The things Quincy was saying about Dean have my head spinning.

“We kiss, then today you push me away. I don’t know what you want,” Dean says.



“What do you want me to say?”

“So, you regret last night?” Dean runs his hands through his hair. I don’t answer fast enough. His eyes get wide.

“I don’t know.”

“God, Tracy.” Dean gives a heavy sigh. “Please don’t act like you regret it. Don’t say you take it—”

“I don’t. I don’t take it back. But there’s so much going on right now…What do you want, Dean?”

“I wanted you last night.” Dean’s lips quirk, and my heart races.

“I did, too…”

“But now?”

I’ve loved Dean for so long, but that love was something different. When we crossed that line, it didn’t feel bad; it felt safe. And last night, I needed safe. Now I know I need something different.