AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Last year, the dancers were pissed at Marcus and some of the other parents who lobbied the principal to forbid them from bucking. Ladonna was no stranger to the dance. She’d been a majorette at Mays back in the day, and all the black dance teams did it. Marcus likened it to twerking, but he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Bucking isn’t about bouncing ass; the movement is situated higher in the back. But all he saw was his little girl gyrating.
After much back and forth and a meeting between Dr. Hill and the school board, it was decided that all dancers in Manns County schools were limited to only 2 consecutive counts of bucking per song. Marcus counted it as a victory. Ladonna thought it was draconian and stupid.
Heat waves floated up from the track. Ladonna wiped sweat from the back of her neck and felt like she was being cooked. Her stomach roiled in anticipation of the show. Would they say something, or just play music? Would they call Nicole to come to the field and present her with something? No, that was a silly thought. It’s not like there’s some plaque or certificate for grieving mothers.
She leaned to her right until her shoulder rested against Marcus’ forearm. He didn’t move, didn’t even look in her direction, because he didn't need to, because that was her habit when she was feeling unsure and he was near. They didn’t say a word, but both knew they were in this together.
As it turned out, Ladonna needn’t have worried. Dr. Gordon kept it simple. The band marched out in their usual formation, and then Dr. G asked for a moment of silence for Nyleah. Ladonna bowed her head with everyone else, but she turned her eyes up and peered through her bangs, hoping to catch a glimpse of Nicole.
After the moment passed, the band marched silently into the shape of a cross and played the most beautiful rendition of “His Eye is on the Sparrow” she had ever heard. Tears fell from her eyes in rapid succession. Through the blur, she spotted Bria on the field. She could tell her daughter was crying, but it was something else that caught Ladonna’s attention.
The dancers were lined up in a straight line directly in front of the band, facing the crowd, and they each had their hands on their hips. Except Bria. Her hands were behind her back. And to Ladonna’s horror, she was able to see, all the way from the stands, that there was blood dripping onto the grass behind her.
CHAPTER TEN
Briafellasleepinthe car on the way to the police station. It wasn’t her fault; she was already exhausted by the time she got home from the game, and then her mother insisted on taking her to the hospital to get her hand looked at. It was almost 3 am by the time they made it home, but her parents stayed up arguing until 4. Just like old times.
The doctor told her she needed stitches and didn’t understand why no one had brought her in sooner. Her mother grimaced at the doctor’s tone and opened her mouth to respond, but she stopped before she said anything. Bria could only imagine the thoughts running through her head. Why on earth would my daughter do this to herself, she must have been wondering. Bria had the same question.
Dr. Kyles put two stitches in her palm and told her not to get it wet for 48 hours. A nurse entered the room shortly after and put a bandage on while giving Bria strict instructions not to remove it. So, of course, the first thing she did when she got home was peek at her wound. Just a little look. She hadn’t picked at it. Yet. Small favors.
She woke as they parked and waited in the car until another car pulled up and parked beside them. A tall black man with a goatee and a giant mole on his cheek got out, and her father introduced him to her as Mr. Strozier, her attorney. He seemed nice, but all Bria could think about was that this was actually happening. She was about to commit a crime.
The police were going to interrogate her, and she was going to lie.
“It’s not really a lie, Bri,” her father had said. “It’s more like misdirection.” This coming from the man who had grounded her for two weeks for blaming a cellphone overage charge on her sister. That was just a misdirection, too.
She sat in the police station waiting room with her dad and Mr. Strozier, so nervous she could barely think straight.
“It’s okay, baby." Her father patted her back softly. “Just do like I told you and you’ll be fine.”
Easy for him to say. She was a wreck. What if she forgot what she was supposed to say? What if they knew she was lying? What if they arrested her? Or made her take a lie detector test?
It was all too much. She was only seventeen. She shouldn’t have to think about this, let alone go through it. The nightmares were bad enough. She hadn’t slept all the way through the night since it happened. And now this. Her hands shook, and she went to pinch the inside of her palm before stopping herself. It would have to wait until she got home.
“Ms. Lane?” a voice asked. Bria snapped to attention and saw a black guy with short locs sticking his head out of the office. “You can come on in." He seemed friendly, but his tone did not put her at ease. She looked at her dad, who lifted his arm as if to say, “After you.”
Bria, Marcus, and Will entered the room in a straight line like schoolchildren and awaited instructions on what to do next. The man gestured toward the chairs, and Mr. Strozier sat. Her daddy pulled her chair out and scooted it closer to the long table before taking his seat next to her.
“I’m Detective Webb, and this is Detective Ackerman,” he said, pointing at the white man in the corner. “We called you here today because we’re looking into the death of your friend, Nyleah. This is not an interrogation or anything, so I don’t want you to be nervous. It’s more like a fact-finding session. Okay?”
Bria nodded, not entirely sure she believed him. She took a deep, shaky breath and tried not to cry.
“Alright. Now, how did you know Nyleah?”
What a question. Bria took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “We’re both on the dance team.”
“Were you friends?”
“For the most part.”
“Can you say more about that? About your friendship?”
She swallowed hard. “Um…well, we met in sixth grade and we became friends when she joined this academic club my dad started. We—”
“The academic club, right. Can you tell me a little about that?”
Bria looked at her father, and he nodded his approval.
