A punch that couldn’t have stopped a fly stops Kelly.
It’s inconsistent with having instigated the scuffle they must have had to produce the abrasions on their faces.
I let my breath catch. I trigger concern that if Tariq had taken one second more to get between us, there’s no telling what Kelly was going to do.
He wipes the site of impact with the heel of his palm and then examines it briefly, just so Tariq knows he didn’t do any physical damage. When Kelly nods, both his eyes are glassy now.
“ ’Cause I gotta be a monster, too, huh?” His eyes are locked with Tariq’s, but he’s so close to me that I can’t smell the subtle difference between Tariq’s sweat and his.
“You are the monster,” I say, my voice a bit stronger now that someone finally got between us. I can take a shuddering breath and say what I’ve been holding in, know that now they’ll hear it. Tariq’s action won’t be heroic now; my words will serve the double purpose of shredding Kelly and being an indictment that anybody let him get this far. They should’ve known his cruelty toward me would escalate. “Who else would bully someone for doing the exact same thing you’ve done for years? I take that back; it’s not the same. I was only in danger of being uncomfortable; you were going to jail, Kelly. Who the hell are you to say anything to me? Or to be here in the first place? You’re the one who refuses to go back where you clearly belong.”
He’s staring at me with wet eyes, one of them bloodshot in the corner.
“Maybe now you’ll get what you deserve,” I tell him, and that part is just for me. It’s an acceptable risk to take, given the night’s events. Because I can’t imagine he comes back from this. After tonight, everyone will have to see him for what he is.
Not charming; not edgy. Dangerous. He’s entitled, like he wasn’t rescued. Like Judge Campbell didn’t take mercy on him in that courtroom when he was thirteen and on his way to a long stay in juvie. Because thank God, Judge Campbell, a man who looks exactly the way you’d expect a white man named Leslie to look, had a Black son Kelly’s age. He gave him the kind of sentence a white boy would’ve gotten for stealing and destroying property, which meant community service and anger-management courses, and he said in the courtroom, in front of everyone, that there are consequences to poverty and they shouldn’t be borne by the children of people who are given few options.
It made the news. A year later, the judge was granted guardianship of Kelly by his mother, who has three younger kids who do not have a wealthy, benevolent judge taking an interest in shepherding them down the right path. She said Judge Campbell saved Kelly’s life, and it’s very observably true, even though right now I assume he’d regret it. Being like brothers with his son was supposed to be a good influence on Kelly, not a trauma for Tariq.
When Judge Campbell appears in the hall behind us, no one hears him until he speaks.
“I think it’s time to say good night to your friends, guys,” he says, like he doesn’t see the scene before him. Like there isn’t a mound of broken pieces that used to be his awards. “I think you’ve both upset the girls enough.”
And just like that, the tension breaks. The electricity snapping in the air between the two dissipates, and both Kelly and Tariq are standing with their chins down, avoiding Judge Campbell’s gaze despite the fact that he sounds completely and illogically calm.
What’s funny is that at least one of them was raised by a Black woman, and there’s no way this subdued disappointment should be even remotely chastising. As for Tariq, all it would take is him saying he hasn’t done anything wrong. Cherish and I would vouch for him, even though I wasn’t here for the entire fight. Even if it weren’t true. But Tariq doesn’t say anything in his own defense, and it only upsets me more.
I am done with Kelly, and Cherish better be, too.
We slink out of the house in silence, and she doesn’t say a word until I’m driving the two of us home.
“RahRah, it was awful.”
“What happened?” I ask, now that interrogating the situation won’t muddle the outcome. Still, I need to couch it in a warning. Anything related to Kelly from this point on needs to remind her how unsafe she’s feeling. “What set Kelly off like that? Has that happened before? Cherish, you have to tell me.”
“I’ve never seen him like that,” she says, like she’s coming out of a trance. Her voice sounds almost far away, and she’s got the same uncharacteristic, stunned look she had in the entertainment room.
“What happened?” This time I mean it. Kelly is over; it’s only natural for my attention to turn to understanding Cherish’s role in the evening. How the three progressed from the two photos she sent me, from she and Kelly groping each other and Tariq being pushed poolside to the scene I entered.
Instead of answering, she suddenly becomes aware of the Tupperware at her feet, and picks it up.
“Oh, that’s for you, from my dad,” I say, so we can get back to the matter at hand.
That is clearly not going to happen when, holding the plastic container as though to study it or its contents, Cherish starts crying.
“Che,” I whimper, and I reach over to stroke her arm before taking her hand. “Babe, what’s the matter?”
And I pivot. Because I have to be gentle with Cherish. She isn’t like my mom and me. And because, after tonight, she has to know for sure: we’re all we have.
“You don’t have to answer that, Che. I’m being insensitive. Of course I know what’s the matter. You liked Kelly. And I’m really sorry all of this happened. I’m sorry you had to see that side of him.”
Cherish nods, weakly, at that, and keeps hold of my hand when she adjusts in the passenger seat, holding the Tupperware protectively against her lap with her free hand. When she turns her head toward the window, I take a deep breath.
“Everything’s okay, Che. I’m here.”
VII
It’s going to be a nice change of pace—Cherish being teary and tired, and me taking care of her and feeling well. Not only am I myself again after dinner with my parents, but when Cherish and I hold hands the whole way home from Judge Campbell’s place, I feel better.
I’m prepared for the obligatory days spent in heartsore hibernation as my Cherish cries Kelly out of her system. Staying in bed, in the room we share, and listening to her try to make sense of the person she tricked herself into thinking he was, saying nothing or very little while she expresses shock and confusion over the person he’s revealed himself to be.
I’m even ready for the limited contact I’ll have to have with Tariq. It’ll be temporary, while knowing he and I can still be together might be too much for Cherish to bear.