Free Into White by Randi Pink Page A

were popular ones to boot.
    The ocean waves whooshed, announcing the end of school. Amera and Amelia grabbed their identical pink-and-green Vera Bradley backpacks. “Hey, what family are you staying with?”
    Crap. “The Williams family.” My eyes dropped to my knees.
    â€œThat black family with the fitted sheets hanging in the place of curtains?” Amera uncrossed her legs at the knee and recrossed them at the ankle.
    Amelia said, “OMG, you have to live with that loser Toya and her spazz of a brother?”
    â€œWhat agency would place a girl like you with niggers?” Their eyes widened in shock, and then flickered with anger.
    They’d said it together.
    I don’t know why I was shocked.
    I knew for sure that Montgomery white people used that word in the comfort of their own homes and country clubs.
    Just.
    Hearing it.
    Out loud.
    Was.
    Quite.
    Hurtful.
    I’d only heard the word spoken once before. When I was in kindergarten, a pigtailed little girl called me by that name. I didn’t know what it meant, I just knew that it stung worse than a yellow jacket. When I told Aunt Evilyn, she said, Get used to it, little girl. I was called a nigger so much as a child, I thought it was my name.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, Kat?” one of them asked. I don’t even know which. “You never heard ‘nigger’ before?”
    â€œOf course she hasn’t. She’s from … Where are you from again?”
    â€œUm … Kansas City.” I couldn’t look up from my knocking knees. The twins wore the same baby-blue polish on their toenails.
    â€œShe’s from the North, stupid. They were part of the group that invaded the Confederacy. They don’t say nigger up there anymore.”
    â€œI could not imagine. You need a ride home, Kat? That black family’s car smells like a junkyard. That can’t be safe for your lungs.”
    â€œOur daddy bought us a convertible Bug for our sixteenth. We’ll take you to the black people’s house if you want.”
    I nodded, still speechless. They had just called me a nigger and a loser; well, they called Toya a nigger and a loser, but still.
    All the way home they talked about this person and that person, the kind of insults that should draw pity rather than laughter. For instance, Amera called a guy retarded—worst part was, the guy she called retarded truly had Down syndrome. Jim was the sweetest, gentlest soul walking the halls of Edgewood High. Amelia, not to be outdone by her sister, said Tina Dillard had a lazy eye because her dad beat her. I didn’t say a word, just laughed along like a sheep.
    We reached my driveway. “Ew, what the hell kind of dog is that? It looks like it has the mange.”
    â€œThanks for the ride.” I shut the door, and Hampton let out a low growl in the direction of the twins.
    â€œHey, Kat?” Amelia rolled down the passenger-side window. “The dance team is having a party for the new recruits this Saturday night. Josh will be there. You in?”
    I nodded enthusiastically to the two girls who’d called me, my brother, my mother, and my father niggers. For a fleeting moment, my guts hit the driveway.
    â€œYou text?” asked Amera.
    â€œI don’t have a cell phone, sorry.” I shrugged.
    â€œThey didn’t even give you a cell?” They were outraged. “We’ll tell you about it in swim, see you tomorrow.”
    When I opened the door, I realized that I had forgotten something, something big.
    Alex.

 
    GOOD THINGS FALL APART ALL THE TIME
    By the time Alex walked through the front door, the sun was gone and the Unsolved Mysteries closing credits were rolling. I jumped up to meet him.
    â€œI waited for an hour. Then I looked for you. I screamed into the girls’ bathrooms like a pervert. A freshman girl called me one!”
    â€œI’m sorry,” I said, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough.
    â€œWho