“I’m taking half a sick day,” I tell him. “I called into the office this morning.”

“Let’s meet in the conference room at ten,” he suggests.

“I won’t be in until one,” I tell him.

“Today? Why would you make a doctor’s appointment today of all days? We have to turn this plan around ASAP. Anything we can do to counteract the impression that the police department is racist.”

To counteract the impression … I stare up at the cold, grungy facade of the building in front of me. To counteract the impression …

“Steve?” John barks. “We need you.”

“Take me off the account,” I say. “I’m not doing it anymore.”

John starts to respond but I don’t know with what.

I’ve hung up.

ZEKE

“Get off your butt and go talk to the girl, Ezekiel!” My sister busts out my full name for emphasis. I’m curled up on the couch trying to watch reruns of Jeopardy! Except I’m not trying to beat them to answer. I’m not even keeping score. Monae sits in the armchair, eyeing me with annoying perception.

“Leave me alone, Mom,” I grumble.

Monae squeals in outrage. “Oh, no, he didn’t!”

My eyes are closed, but I sense her coming at me. “Oof. Monae…”

She’s sitting on me. Her bony butt right square on top of my hip. She punches me lightly in the stomach. “You. Take. That. Back.” Now she’s tickling me.

“Monae!” I squirm out from under her, but she’s pinned me good. “I’m not in the mood for—ahhh. Ahhh!” We scrabble for control.

“Take it back!” she shouts.

“I take it back! Uncle.”

Monae smacks my butt. “Go talk to her.”

“Not now.” I rearrange my blanket. “I think we broke up.”

“You ‘think’?” Monae settles on the coffee table.

“I’m pretty sure, yeah.”

“Zeke, honestly.” She sips a glass of water that came from I don’t know where. Tormenting me is thirsty work, apparently. “That’s the kind of thing you want to be sure about before you get this committed to wallowing.”

“What are you talking about?” I shift so I can see the TV past her.

Monae reaches for the remote control and powers the whole set off.

“Hey. I was watching that.”

“You should be at SCORE,” she says. “It’s kind of a big day over there. And instead, you’re here.”

“Shut up.” As if I don’t feel guilty enough about all the ways I’m failing. I bit off more than I could chew. Everything got out of hand. My protest was a disaster. Almost a hundred people arrested. Twenty hospitalized, not even including all the folks who got gassed and showed up at the clinic. What kind of organizer am I ever going to be, with this track record? I bury my face in the throw pillows. “I screwed it all up. Kimberly hates me.”

“That girl is gaga for you.” Monae leans forward and squeezes my shoulder. “Did she actually say the words ‘I want to break up’?”