“I think I thought it would be nice… to just die—drown, in my favorite place. Now I find other ways to drown and cope,” he says.
“What stopped you?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond at first.
“Someone followed me here… pulled me out, didn’t let me do it,” he says quietly.
“Sounds like a good person.”
“He is,” Devon says.
We sit in silence, just watching the waves.
“You’re not a bad person, you know… for grieving him.”
I’m guessing he’s talking about Jamie.
“I’m not grieving him,” I say.
Devon nods.
“Well, even if you wanted to be sad about it… you’re not a bad person. Just human,” he says.
“Okay,” I reply, wanting to end the conversation about Jamie there.
It’s hard to detach the Jamie I liked, my best friend since I was fourteen, from the real Jamie. The one who was a racist coward, who never really liked me, who always had this plan in mind to screw with my life like this.
But I’m going to have to let go of the fake Jamie somehow. I refuse to grieve over someone who probably would have celebrated my death if the roles were reversed.
It’s unexpected, but I feel a weight on my hand as Devon slips his fingers through mine and squeezes. I give him a weird look, but he doesn’t notice.
And I don’t take my hand away.
I’ve felt alone a lot in this world, filled with people and faces that don’t look like me. My parents always working. My friends all backstabbing actors. My relationships never real.
But right now, with Devon, I don’t feel alone at all.
Not one bit.
47
DEVON
Friday
Later, when I’m alone, I look at my tweet again.
The support has doubled since I last saw it. People are talking about the protest and my tweet that sparked it. So many people are supporting us and the truth.
I hope things work out, and the truth remains in the open, unburied. I hope we get to be okay after all this.
I go to my messages and see my inbox filled once again. A message from a verified account catches my eye and so I click on the message.
It’s from a Black journalist.
@CindyIsHere47: I saw your tweet and I’d love to speak with you. Let me know if that is something you’re interested in.—Cindy
I don’t want to trust anyone from any institution that can be paid off easily by Niveus. But then I click on her profile, eyes widening when I see the company she works for.
