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Bakari raised his eyebrows and stared at the field. “I’ve always seen you as my little sister.”
“Always?”
“Well no, not always. But as the years went on. I know that’s not what you wanna hear—”
“No, but I asked. So I guess I have my answer.”
“Bria—”
“It’s cool, Bakari. Just drop it.”
They stood there in silence for a while, Bakari staring at the field, and Bria looking up into the stands. He turned toward her and laughed. “Aye, remember when our mothers said they were gonna arrange our marriage to each other?”
“Of course. They were low-key serious about it, trust me.”
“I know. But hey, never say never. I might roll through in ten years and scoop you up.”
After he’d run through all the co-eds at Penn State and half the NFL cheerleaders and groupies. No, thank you. “If I’m not already taken, I might let you holler.”
Bakari grabbed her in a bear hug. “I’m gonna miss your big-head self.” It wasn’t an “I love you,” but it was as close as she was gonna get. She squeezed her eyes shut and hugged him back as hard as she could. He was so solid he probably didn’t even feel it.
When they parted, he grabbed her hand and turned it over. “Where’s your bandage?”
She looked at her palm and held it out towards him. “It’s almost healed. See?”
He examined her wound. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “And you don’t…?”
“Not anymore.”
“Good.” He elbowed her. “I’ll see you at 1.”
She watched him leave and decided against telling him she wouldn’t be there. Maybe he’d notice her absence, or maybe he wouldn’t. But she wasn’t worried about that anymore. She wasn’t worried about anything but her future, and for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.
EPILOGUE
Thelettersarrivedaweek after graduation.
Melanie Williams’ letter contained no surprises; Marcus was formally resigning his position as PTO vice president. Formally, but not regretfully.
Each Twelve family got a letter informing them that the group had been officially disbanded effective immediately. That was also not a surprise to anyone.
Iesha’s letter was sent anonymously. Someone wanted to let her know that her husband had been cheating on her, and that she should question him about where he’d been on the first Monday of every month.
Nicole’s letter sat unopened for a week. She knew who it was from by the off grey color of the envelope. It took that whole week for her to psyche herself up.
Dear Nicole,
This letter is about a year too late. Maybe late isn’t always better than never, but I felt I owed you an explanation.
There is no excuse for the way you and your family were treated by people who have been telling you for years that we’re your family. We said we were a village. We said we were a community. We vowed to support each other, and then we broke that vow and tossed you to the side when things got hard.
We cared more about our individual kids than for the “family,” and I sincerely apologize for my part in that. If I could go back, I would do so many things differently. For starters, I would have supported you.
I know I can’t bring Nyleah back, but I hope it brings you some degree of comfort to know that the man who hurt her is out of commission. Permanently. He will never hurt another girl again. That is my promise to you, and that’s one I’m confident will never be broken.
Sincerely,
Marcus
