The Scammer(47)

Kareem opens the door like a bouncer at a nightclub, nodding but not meeting my eye.

In the living room are my suite mates, sitting among more of Devonte’s fans. Followers? I don’t know what to call them. Loren and Kammy are on the sofa, hands folded, their eyes cast down, faces composed yet solemn. Next to them is our RA, Shante. I’m not the least surprised Devonte’s seduced her. Vanessa stands next to her brother, hands on her hips.

And standing on the opposite side of Devonte . . . is Kerry. The sight of her smug smile makes my stomach drop to my feet.

“Heard you’ve had a busy day,” Vanessa says, words dripping in sarcasm. “Trips to Student Housing. Hanging out with that white guy?”

Kareem leans against the suite door, arms crossed.

Hands trembling, I clear my throat and try to regain control. “I think this is a . . . I mean you got it all wrong.”

“Where you been? What, you stopped by the police station too?” Vanessa snaps, stepping closer. “You seem like the type.”

“N-n-n-nooo,” I stutter. “I would never.”

“How could you do this to me? To us?” she yells, pointing to Devonte. “He’s my BROTHER! The only real family I got! And you go behind my back and rat us out?”

“I wasn’t trying to get him, I mean you, in trouble,” I say, feeling myself babbling. “It’s just . . . it’s been really intense, and I was thinking that maybe—”

“After everything he’s done for you, for US, for Black people, you try to get him kicked out?”

Shante stands now, crossing the room to position herself in front of my bedroom door.

“THEN you go yapping to that white boy about us,” Vanessa continues. “You know what he’s gonna do, right? What they always do!”

“No, it wasn’t like that! That’s not what, I mean, that isn’t what . . .”

Kerry stares at me, her eyes cold. No signs of the same concerned girl I spilled my guts out to just a few hours ago. Behind me, the girl who had spotted Nick and me talking leans against the stove, shaking her head.

The room goes quiet, everyone turning to Devonte. He clasps his hands together, then motions around the room.

“So, you’re not happy with us? Your family?”

My brain scrolls through the principles of How to Win Friends and can’t think of one that could salvage this situation. There’s no use in trying to reason with Vanessa. But I could maybe still reach Loren and Kammy.

I turn to them with pleading hands. “I tried talking to you guys about how I was feeling. I wasn’t trying to move out. I wasn’t trying to LEAVE you. I was just—”

“I asked you a question,” Devonte says, voice just above a whisper. But I know him. This is all a show. Acting as if he’s wounded when he’s really rage contained in skin. Everyone there is more concerned about his feelings than mine when they have no clue what’s lurking.

Unsure of what to do, I utter the only thing I can think of. “I . . . I . . . I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “I thought you were smarter than the others, sis. I thought you knew better. You know you belong with us. Don’t you want to be a part of our family?”

One part of me screams YES! Yes, I’ve always wanted to belong to something. But the other side of me, the side that knows better, can’t utter those words. Even to save myself in the moment.

Vanessa shakes her head. “I thought we were sisters.”

“We are,” I cry, aiming my words at Loren and Kammy, but they don’t stir.

Devonte purses his lips as if he’s contemplating what to do. The room hangs with bated breath.

“I think I understand what’s happening here,” he states matter-of-factly, turning to his audience. “See, families fight. They have disagreements, fights, then they heal, they become stronger. But before healing can occur, there must be consequences for disloyalty. And you have to accept those consequences to be cleansed and move on.”

There is a charge in the air. Something unsaid but understood by everyone but me. I can feel the girl in the kitchen shift, inching closer. I look to my left and right, and it suddenly dawns on me that I’m surrounded.

Consequences?

A gasp escapes me as I back away, shaking my head. “No.”

“Pain makes you remember to never make the same mistake twice,” Devonte states, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Pain is the only way you learn.”

Panic surges through my veins. I wasn’t prepared for violence. Talking, yelling, screaming . . . but violence? That’s a category of life I have no knowledge of.

Neither did Kevin.

Devonte turns and nods at Kerry. Kerry steps toward me and with one swing, she lumps a fist into my belly.

I hunch over with an oof and slump down to my knees, wheezing air through the throbbing ache. I roll to my side, glancing at Loren and Kammy. They won’t meet my eye, which makes me think back on what they said at lunch.

“He’s taken it easy on you.” Have they been through worse?

Devonte nods at Kerry. “Again.”

“No,” I whimper and try to scoot away but Shante and Kareem box me in, the girl behind me pinning my shoulders. I scream, swatting at their hands as I watch Kerry charge toward us. My body becomes like a brick, so weighted down with fear that I can’t move. And just before Kerry can reach her arm back for another blow, the door bursts open. A large dark-skinned man barrels in, shoving Kareem aside like a bowling pin. He stands over me, short locs swaying in front of his hard eyes. Kerry reels back into Vanessa. Shante holds both hands up in surrender, shaking her head.