Devonte continues to take deep breaths along with me. It slowly starts to get better. But the room is still loopy. He sends Nai to the girls’ bathroom to wet some paper towels. When she comes back, he places the cool, wet paper against my face. It feels good.

I’m finally able to catch my breath again. “That’s it. Just keep taking deep breaths.” Once I assure Nai I’m okay, she goes down the hall to get me a bottle of water from the vending machine. It’s just us two now.

“Oh my God, what was that?” I ask.

“Panic attack.”

“I’ve never had one before. It’s awful.”

“Yeah . . . it’s scary as hell.”

I lean against the wall, feeling lightheaded and empty inside. “How could anyone be so cruel? I don’t get it. They don’t even know her.”

“People are for-real messed up,” he replies sadly.

“So this is all over the internet now?”

“See Us is working on them pulling it down. They are threatening legal action. Most of the sites have agreed to take it down, though it will still be online. It just won’t be as easy to get to.”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“I called your uncle when I saw the video.”

“Oh. I didn’t even know you had his number,” I say.

“He gave it to me. Said to keep an eye on you.”

“He thinks I can’t handle it.” I laugh sardonically. “And I guess he’s right.”

Devonte shakes his head. “Nah, it’s not that. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. I gave him my number for the same reason.”

I look him over, grateful that both him and Nai are with me. “How do you know what to do for panic attacks?”

“I used to get them. I was always anxious as hell that I would never be fast enough to get away.”

“From what?”

He doesn’t reply. But he doesn’t need to. I realize how dumb my question was. I just asked a Black boy in New York City why he’s anxious. Duh.

I’m home alone when Nate calls to tell me the news: the grand jury decision is coming. I turn to CNN. The bright red banner across the screen reads, Grand jury decision in Bosia case imminent.

My stomach dips. I feel heavy. My insides are churning and I’m close to throwing up. There are large goose bumps forming up and down my arms. I can barely make out what the news anchor is saying because my heart is pounding so loudly in my ears. I tell myself to have a seat, but I can’t really move.

“The grand jury has decided not to indict.”