“But—”

“On May twentieth, I was at my girlfriend’s house. We were celebrating her parents’ twentieth wedding anniversary.”

Mama says nothing.

“I see,” Detective Douglass says. “Would your girlfriend happen to be around here to verify that?”

Justyce looks past her and the officer at the parting crowd.

“She would,” he says. “She and her mom are headed right this way.”

—

Mama doesn’t say a word the entire trip home. When they pull into the driveway and she tries to get out, Justyce reaches over and pulls her door shut.

He locks it.

“Oh, so you holdin’ me hostage now?”

“You have somethin’ you wanna say to me, Ma?”

“I certainly don’t.”

“You sure about that?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Justyce.”

“Well, I have some things to say to you—”

“That’s funny. I’ve learned more about my son in the past two hours than I’ve known in four years, and now he wants to talk to me?”

“Mama—”

“Tell me somethin’…did you ever plan to let your mama know about this ‘girlfriend’ of yours?”

“Ma—”

“I can understand you not wantin’ to bring up your recent contact with the neighborhood gangbangers, but if you actually care about this girl, seems to me like you would’ve at least mention—”

“You know why I didn’t tell you anything, Mama!”

She doesn’t respond.

“I’m not saying keeping it from you was the right thing to do. But I knew no matter how happy I was, you woulda had somethin’ negative to say. You reacted in the parking lot by frownin’ at Mr. Friedman’s hand like it was diseased!”

“I’m not shakin’ no white man’s hand, Justyce. Not after what that other one did to you.”

“But what does that solve, Mama? Mr. Friedman and Garrett Tison are totally different people.”

Mama crosses her arms and turns to the window.

Jus shakes his head. “All my life, you’ve pushed me to be and do my absolute best. That’s what SJ brings out of me, Ma. She makes me better.”

“Don’t you sit over there and tell yourself that lie, Justyce.”

“It’s not a lie!”

“It certainly is. I taught you a long time ago, only person can ‘make you better’ is you.”

Justyce grips the steering wheel. “Mama, if not for her, I don’t know that I woulda made it through this school year. For ten months now, people have been trying to tear me down. SJ worked harder than anybody to make sure I stayed standing.”

“Hmph.”

“Whether you believe it or not, she brings out the best in me. When I’m with her, I want to overcome everything.”

“I get what you’re saying, son, but there are plenty of brilliant black women who can do the same—”

Jus sighs. She doesn’t get it at all.

“Ma, SJ is Jewish,” he says. Manny said it to him, and it’s a valid point, isn’t it? “I know you have issues with white folks, but her people have been through hardship too.”

“Doesn’t matter, son. You can’t see Jewish in her skin color. You tried to help that other girl and wound up in handcuffs. And her daddy is black, ain’t he? If it looks white, it’s white in this world.”

“But it’s not that simple—”

“Yeah it is. You just refuse to accept it. I sent you to that school so you’d have a chance at the best education. But with this foolishness you’ve got in your head now, I’m wonderin’ if that was such a good idea.”

“So what you’re saying is after a lifetime of getting picked apart because of my skin color, I should dismiss the girl I love because of hers?”

Mama turns. “Love? Boy, you seventeen years old. You don’t know nothin’ about love.”

“You were eighteen when you married Daddy—”

“And look where it got me.”

Jus leans back against the headrest and shuts his eyes.

For a minute, neither of them says anything.

Then Mama sniffles.

“Aww, Ma! Don’t cry—”

“I’m afraid, son. This world is hard enough for a boy like you without the extra obstacles. That man almost killed you, Justyce! And what for? What were you doing wrong? Listenin’ to some music he didn’t like?”

Jus doesn’t respond.

He can’t.

“I know you think I’m being unreasonable, but I—I can’t give you my blessing on this one,” she says. “I know you grown and you gonna do what you want, but you on your own here, baby.”

“Come on, Ma—”

“As you made clear earlier, I can’t protect you forever, right?”

She unlocks her door and gets out of the car.

Sitting on the witness stand, Jus wishes he could go back to the days when all he had to worry about was his mama not liking his girlfriend. The DA’s—Mr. Rentzen’s—questioning is running pretty smooth, and Mama, Doc, the Riverses, and the Friedmans are all there in the gallery to support him. But testifying with his best friend’s murderer glowering at him from twenty feet away? It’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

By the time Mr. Rentzen finishes his questions, the court has heard the tragic tale of two college-bound African American boys, gunned down at a traffic light by an angry white man who used a racial slur and fired his weapon at them when they didn’t comply with his demands.

Jus, with tears in his eyes, recounts the final minutes of Manny’s life, and for a second he’s tempted to relax, especially when Doc gives him a thumbs-up from where he’s sitting.

But then the defense attorney, a short white lady with blond hair and an upturned nose, steps up to the podium. She and Jus lock eyes.

He can tell she’s out for blood.

“Mr. McAllister,” she begins, all cool, calm, and collected. “Isn’t it true that at the beginning of your story, you stated that you and Emmanuel Rivers were ‘just driving around’?”

“It is.”

“That’s not what you originally intended to do, though, is it?”

“I’m not sure I understand the question,” Jus says.

“When Mr. Rivers retrieved you from your dormitory on January twenty-sixth, you had no idea you were getting into his car for the sake of ‘driving around,’ did you?”

“No.”

“So there were other plans, then.”

Jus gulps. “Yes, there were.”

“What were they?”

“We were supposed to go hiking.”

“But you didn’t go hiking, did you?”

“No.”

“Emmanuel Rivers didn’t really feel up to hiking anymore, is that correct?”

“Uhh…”

“Let me remind you that you are under oath, Mr. McAllister.”

Jus clears his throat. “No. Manny didn’t feel up to hiking.”