But I am alone. I am.

The elevator dings and the door slides open.

“You grounding me?” I ask.

“Is that what I should do?” he says. “Probably, yes. You’re grounded.”

The elevator door starts to close behind me. I wave my hand against the laser.

“It’s not safe out there, at night. I want you safe. Not dead.” His voice catches. “Not in jail.”

“You want me to jail myself instead.”

Steve’s face falls. He moves in a small circle, turning himself away and back. He runs his hand over his neck.

“I hear that,” he says.

The elevator door starts to close again. This time, Steve reaches over my shoulder and places his hand on the door, holding it open. I step back, into the opening.

“One way or another, a black man is ‘safer’ in an enclosed space. That’s what you’re telling me.”

A jail cell. A casket. My room. If that has to be my whole world, what’s the difference?

The elevator starts up its I-will-beep-until-you-make-a-choice alarm.

“Be safe,” Steve says.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

Steve lets go of the door.

I get in, alone.

TINA

The TV is tuned to all the bad news.

My headphones do not help tonight.

Mommy says, I’m sorry, baby.

I need to see what happens with the grand jury.

I don’t know what the grand jury is

or why everyone is waiting

to hear what it is going to say.

Everyone is angry and shouting—

that part, I understand.

When there was something scary on TV,

Nana used to let me crawl into her lap.

Now I only have pillows

and it’s not enough.

TYRELL

Robb is persistent. I’ll give him that. He is y =-x2 + 2x. A firm equation, easy to solve but annoying. Insistent and committed to its trajectory, however misguided. When you graph it, it plunges toward negative infinity.

“You gotta come with us, dog. That’s your hometown.”

“Listen.” I’m losing whatever patience I even have with him. “Just let it go, would you.”

“Not till you say you’ll go. Two nights, max,” Robb insists. “You miss only one class. I’ll get you back in time for the rest. It’s for a good cause. When the grand jury comes in, there’s gotta be a lot of voices calling for justice. We gotta stand up!”

It’s a relief when my phone vibrates, glowing TINA over my homework.

Her voice is small. “Hi, Tyrell.”

“Hey, baby. How’s my girl?” I try to sound sexy. Won’t make no difference to Tina.

Robb sighs and packs up his notebooks to scoot out of the way so we can have privacy. Good. I want him to think I’m talking to my girlfriend. That she’s who keeps calling me.

Tina laughs in my ear. “You sound so funny on the phone sometimes.”

The door closes behind Robb. My normal voice returns. “I know. It’s because I’m happy when you call.”

“You are?”