“I never wanted to be called the ‘angry Black woman.’ But that night, good Lord, I raised hell. And for five years, I thought I just didn’t raise hell enough. But last year, I read how Serena Williams damn near died giving birth to her child because the doctors didn’t believe her when she said something was wrong. That’s when I knew . . . If the best athlete in the world can’t get her voice heard, what chance did my Melody have?”

Chapter Fourteen

She Did What?

Devonte surprises me by coming to pick me up from Mrs. Wright’s place. He figured I got stuck helping Mrs. Wright with a chore and came to see if he could help too. I told him what went down as we walk to his family’s restaurant. Since they’re closed on Mondays, his uncle has agreed to let us use it. He texted my friends and told them to meet us there. I didn’t even know he knew them like that until he explained they’d started a friendship while I was in my abyss.

We’re a block away from the restaurant when I tell Devonte once again that he didn’t have to come get me.

“I came to get you for selfish reasons. These streets are dangerous. I might need a bodyguard,” he jokes.

“Yeah, not funny,” I reply.

“Man, I would’ve paid cash money to see you throw down!” he says excitedly.

“I lost control. How is that good?”

“I don’t know if it’s good or not, but I’m glad you had some kinda reaction. You’ve been faded to black for weeks . . .”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. I decide not to push the issue. We cross the street and are just outside the restaurant when he says, “I didn’t know what to say to make you feel better.”

“Wait, do you mean there’s no Hallmark card for this? Are you sure?”

He laughs. “Nah, yo, I looked.”

“It’s okay. If things were reversed, I wouldn’t know what to say either. But maybe we don’t use words. Maybe you just kiss me.”

He tilts his head up toward the sky, like he’s thinking really hard. “Well, I guess I better because . . . I’m a little afraid of you.” He comes close, takes my face in between his hands, and kisses me. It makes me feel light, like I could float away. You don’t get kisses when you live on the ocean floor. This is definitely a good reason to come to the surface.

When it’s over, I open my eyes and realize we are being watched. My friends have their faces mashed up against the window, spying on us.

“We better go in,” Devonte says, shaking his head.