“What about Jamal?” she says. “He told me he didn’t want to talk about his dad. That your mom wouldn’t allow it. You did it anyway.”

“Because I’ve tried everything else to help my dad. What do I have left to lose? I thought I could get Jamal to talk about it, but he wouldn’t.” I don’t know why I’m telling her all this. Maybe because Jamal won’t talk to me. Maybe because Angela knows how to woo people with her reporter skills to get answers. She set me up for that one.

“Do you really have evidence for your dad? Jamal said it’s bullshit.”

“They never found the murder weapon, and there were no witnesses. There should have been reasonable doubt, but the all-white jury felt otherwise.”

“Do you know much about the missing gun?”

“No.” I pause at the way she asked the question. Like she’s setting me up to give her more information than I planned. I shake off overthinking things. “But I know my dad is innocent. I’m a team player, I swear, and I’ve worked hard to be in the running for editor. But my dad’s in the last year of his life—I was desperate.”

Angela pauses. Her shoulders settle and she lowers her voice. “You think you’re a team player?”

“I am.” I put my hands down in front of me. “I earned the right to be editor. Giving it to anyone else would be wrong, and you know it.”

“Prove it. Prove you can work with me on something, and you won’t go off on your own. You think you can do it, without telling anyone?”

“Of course. I’m loyal.” I know if I work well with Angela, she’ll put in a good word with Mr. Kaine, then secure more votes.

“All right. I’ve got an exposé that’s good for ‘Tracy’s Corner.’ ” Angela sticks her hand out. “Meet me here tomorrow at eight a.m.”

I agree. Then turn to see if I can catch the last half of my first-period class. Angela calls out when I reach the door.

“Don’t tell Jamal we talked.”

I nod, even though her request seems strange. Angela’s always been a straight shooter, so why do I get the sense she might need me as much as I need her?

FLESH AND BLOOD