Free Sellout by Ebony Joy Wilkins Page A

negative feelings,” Red said. “I’m hoping the act of saying our fears and hates aloud will free you in some way. Susan, would you like to reflect anymore?”
    Susan shook her head. She probably wouldn’t talk ever again for the rest of her life. In fact, her honesty had silenced everyone in the group. I glanced around our circle again. Susan wasn’t the only one with tears in her eyes. I lowered my head and prayed for the uncomfortable silence to disappear. I would have even welcomed the new-girl jokes to make this tension go away.
    “Rochelle, why don’t you go next,” Red said, shifting in her seat to face the girl on Susan’s other side.
    Rochelle pulled her thick, shoulder-length hair behind her ears and leaned back in her seat. She looked more ready to sleep than to share with a group about her feelings. I watched her eyeball each member of the group before starting.
    “I hate my parents,” she said, wiping an invisible hair from her face. “I hate that my mom was strung out and my daddy wasn’t never around and jumped in and out of jail. I hate them for making me. When I was little I swore I wouldn’t be nothing like them, but look at me. I’m just like them. I hate when people see me coming and they grab their stuff like I’m gonna steal something or when I’m in a store and the salespeople walk right past me like I don’t need no help finding nothing. I hate a lot of things.”
    Red rocked slowly like this information was heavier than she expected. I wanted her to say something soothing, but she just kept rocking back and forth.
    “Does anyone want to speak to Rochelle?” she asked after awhile.
    No one moved. No one spoke. No one looked around. Susan was still hunched over, wiping tears from her eyes. Quiana looked like a mannequin, stiff and unaffected. The other girls just listened.
    “You’re here, aren’t you?” I asked quietly. My mouth obviously wasn’t following directions from my brain, which only happened at the most inopportune times like this one.
    Rochelle looked surprised. “What?”
    “Well, you said you’re like your parents, but you’re not in jail like them, you’re here with us,” I stated. “Maybe you aren’t as similar to them as you think.”
    Red smiled and nodded her head in agreement with me. Rochelle wasn’t as impressed. Her sad face quickly turned sour. She glared at me like I was the one who had just said all those bad things about her family members. I immediately regretted getting involved.
    “I just got out, new girl,” she said, snapping at me. “And when I go home tonight, I’m going past the drug dealers on my street and the hustlers trying to pimp me out and my parents’ friends crashing at our place because they got kicked out of their own. I’m just like them.”
    I thought of Tilly’s apartment with its matching decor and the quiet and the comfort.
    “I just thought…” I started.
    “I know what you thought, NaTasha,” Rochelle stopped me, “and you don’t know nothing about me or my life or anyone else’s in here for that matter. No one in here comes from the cushy stuck-up suburbs and no one here lives the perfect life you do, so I don’t even know why you’re here.”
    All the girls looked at me now. Even Susan.
    “Sorry,” I told her.
    “Yeah,” Rochelle said.
    Thankfully, Red didn’t miss a beat. “We all have different experiences in our lives, no matter where we come from. NaTasha does come from a different place, but we all have problems,” Red said. She had stopped rocking and turned to me. “Maybe, NaTasha, you’d like to share with the girls something you hate.”
    I didn’t, but I had to dig myself out of the grave I’d just dug with Rochelle. The girls wanted blood and I knew it. Every eye was on me. They wouldn’t let me get away with the silent treatment today. No way.
    My head started to pound. I smoothed my jeans, glancing up at all the eyes watching me. My heartbeat was in my throat. The girls were