Isn’t that what MJ told us during that last Healthy Living? Did it matter?

“Do what you need to do. Talk to him.” She pointed at me, and my anger blazed.

“Mom. You don’t think I’m like the guy who grabbed Cressie. That’s crazy!”

“Is it? I see more than you think, son. I’ve seen you trying to force a situation with the Westing girl.”

I stood so fast my chair almost tipped. “I didn’t force anything!” I felt the need to be absolutely clear with my sister, who’d endured an attack in a loud hallway. “Cress, I didn’t do anything like that.”

“I believe you, baby bro. I don’t think you’re anything like my attacker. But there are degrees to this. Maybe he wasn’t always like that. Maybe he got denied too often. Angry too often. I don’t know. Maybe he built up to what he tried with me. But buildings have foundations. They start somewhere. Are you angry about anything Kiera’s done recently?”

I didn’t answer that.

Dad said, “Junior. It’s not all your fault, because I’ve been encouraging you in a way that my father and my uncles and a bunch of other guys I looked up to encouraged me. It felt good-natured, like a rite of passage. ‘Go get that girl.’ But all I can think about now is that animal who put his hands on Cressie was probably getting good-natured encouragement from his dad, and his uncles, and all the guys around them. ‘Go get that girl.’”

My hands shook. They were being so stupid about this, like I’d cornered Kiera in some dark alley.

Then Shianne’s words came to me, ghosts in the room. Del, who told you you were nice?

Voice low, I said, “Can I be excused?”

Dad looked to Mom, and Mom looked disappointed. I didn’t want to know what Cressie looked like on that tiny phone screen, so I turned away.

Mom said, “Go on.”

Alone in my room, the anger got worse. Not in intensity, but in focus. Who was I mad at? Mom? Dad? Cressie? Kiera? Shianne?

Hours leapt by. I didn’t eat dinner, or do homework. I tried texting Qwan, but felt petty when I thought about what he’d been through with Angie, so I deleted those texts. Then I tried locking my door, opening the private browser tab, and searching for new Lindy Blue videos. They were there, but they felt different now. Everything did. What was insatiable nymphomania before was now bad acting. What used to look like rough fun seemed painful. The hottest porn star on the planet looked way younger than I’d ever noticed. Take off the makeup, maybe she’d blend in at Green Creek High.

I had the hot and bright urge to snap my keyboard in half.

Who you really mad at here, Del?

My eyes burned.

Why Mason?

Why didn’t Kiera pick me?

Why wasn’t I good enough for her?

I cried, full on, in more pain than when that basketball smashed my face.