"I can't do it," Kal states. "I can't go in there."
"Yes, babe, you can," Alex assures him. "You know you want to."
"I don't want to see him."
"It's okay, Kal. You don't have to," I contribute. "If you don't think you can handle it, then you shouldn't do it."
"No, you need to," Alex insists. "It's going to make you feel better."
Or worse, but I can't say that aloud. There's no point in the two of us arguing right now. That won't help Kal at all. Besides, I mostly agree with him. I just want Kal to be careful.
Chad's trial begins today.
We're sitting outside the courthouse in another blacked-out SUV. Mary, Ari, and Liam are already inside, but the rest of us are still trying to reassure Kaleem. There are security guards waiting for us to come out and lead us towards the entrance, but they're growing impatient. Not just with us, but the press, too.
The stairs up to the courthouse are filled with reporters, all trying to get the latest scoop on both Chad's case, and Kal's role in it. He's never publicly spoken about what happened. Everyone knows they went to school together, but no one besides us know the true extent of their relationship.
"I don't know," Kal grumbles, biting his lip in frustration. "I want to do this, but I don't know if I can."
He doesn't have a choice. He has to testify.
"You practiced it with your lawyers, didn't you?" I check. "Did you tell the full story?"
"No, they just wanted me to be prepared. They're going to drill me, and not in a good way," he still manages to laugh at his own joke.
"Is that what scares you the most? The cross-examination?"
"No, they have nothing on me," he waves me off. "They can say whatever they want about me—discredit me as much as they want, I don't care."
"So it's the story itself that worries you?"
"Yeah, man, I don't want to tell that story to the whole fucking world. It's fucking embarrassing."
"It's not embarrassing. There's nothing you could've done."
"I know it's not my fault, but still. People are going to talk. Everyone is going to know."
"Fuck that, man," Oliver states.
"It's not that easy," he groans. "I just... don't want to do this."
"No, babe, you have to do this," Alex insists. "You need to face your problems head-on."
"I'm not, ready," Kal shakes his head. "I'm really not ready."
"Is there anything we can do to change that?"
"I should've smoked weed this morning," he chuckles tentatively, his voice shaking.
"Did you bring any edibles?" I ask. That's his favorite way to get high, now that he's learned to bake.
"I have some cookies, but I wanted to save them for lunch."
"I can go home and get you some more," I suggest.
"no, you don't have to do that," he shakes his head. "I just..."
"If you think it'll help, then you should have one now."
"I didn't think it would be this bad," he admits.
"You never do."
That's how anxiety works. Whenever you think you can handle something, your brain throws you a curveball. It makes you panic last minute and regret leaving the house in the first place. It makes you doubt everything.
Besides, Kal is strong, He truly can handle everything. His anxiety rarely stops him from doing anything. Sure, it bothers him every now and then, but it doesn't hold him back. He learned to ignore it. He's determined.
But that doesn't mean he can't be knocked down every now and then. Especially for something this big. He's about to see his abuser for the first time in years. This time. He's not just a racist, homophobic, asshole. He's also a violent murderer.
And so is his brother.
He has to face him too.
Kyle Patterson. Chad's step-brother, and Amir's killer.
He will be in the courthouse, along with the rest of Chad's family.
I wonder what they think about what he did. It would amaze me if they still stood by him, after all his crimes. He's not the first person to have killed. In fact, they'd probably stand by his actions. They're probably as deranged as he is.
"Look, man," Oliver leans forward. "I know you're afraid, and what you're about to do takes serious guts. But your testimony matters in this trial. What you say in there could change the course of the entire trail."
"That's a lot of pressure."
"I know, I know, but that's the point. You finally have the opportunity to get justice. You can contribute to his sentencing, and make sure he gets locked away as long as possible."
"That's what you've always wanted," I add. "He might not go to prison for what he did to you, but you can help send him away for something much worse."
"By testifying, what happened to you won't be in vain. You wouldn't have suffered for nothing."
Kal stays silent, unsure of how to respond. I can tell he wants to go in. He wants to say his piece and face his enemy. But it can't be easy.
"Okay," he nods. "But I can't walk up alone."
"That's okay. Ollie and Alex will walk with you, and I'll meet you up there."
"Alright," he lets out a deep breath.
"I'll go first, okay? You take a few deep breathes, and I'll see you up there."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Oliver places his hand on my knee, stopping me from opening the door.
"Yeah," I smile sweetly. "I can handle it."
The cameras make me anxious, but not anxious enough to stop me from helping my friend.
"Let me go first," he insists, but it's too late. I push the door open, stepping out of the vehicle. Instantly, I'm met with flashing lights and the loud voices of journalists, asking me all kinds of questions.
"How are you feeling about today?"
"Where is Kaleem Washington?"
"Will Oliver Ferrari be joining you?"
"Will Kaleem be testifying today?"
I ignore them, keeping my head down as I follow the security guard through the crowd. It doesn't take long until they shift their attention from me back to the car. Kaleem must've just gotten out with Ollie and Alex. I don't look back at them until I'm inside the courthouse. I glance out the window, watching the three boys make their way up the steps.
"Crazy, isn't it?" Mary comments, joining me at the window. "We're just normal people, but they want to know everything about us."
"We're not normal people," Ari responds. "We're privileged. We're rich and influential."
"We live the life millions of people dream of," I add.
"But nothing can keep us safe from the cruelty of the world."
Kal, Ari, and Mary still face racism. It would be worse if they lived in poverty, but they still get stigmatized and excluded from spaces and conversations that I don't. When I walk down the street, I'm at risk of being harassed by men. They sexualize me, catcall me, and could even try to assault me. When Ari walks down the street, she risks a lot more than that. It does beyond harassment based on her gender. She also risks being called harassed based on her race and religion, especially if she's wearing her hijab. That doesn't go away because of her job or how much money she makes.
But it's still different.
We've never had to compete against other people for jobs. We've never had to break the law to pay our bills or feed our families. Everything we've ever asked for has been given to us. At least, as much as possible.
Money can't cure my mental illness, or Kal's PTSD, or Oliver's addiction to cigarettes. But it does give us the resources to help us get there.
"Today is going to suck," Mary states. And she's right. It really is.
"How are you feeling about today?" I ask Ari. I'm surprised it isn't affecting her as much as it is Kal.
"I'm fine," she shrugs, exhaling a deep breath. "I just want to get this over with."
"You don't want to talk about it?"
"What's there to talk about? He's a racist and Islamophobic. That's nothing new. We've always known that."
Ari always deals with her shit on her own. She doesn't want to dwell on the things she can't change. She just wants to keep moving,
It worries me sometimes, but if I told her that, she'd roll her eyes and tell me to suck it up.
She doesn't let anything affect her, let alone bring her down.
She's fierce.
She turns away from me when the door opens. The boys enter the courthouse, clearly relieved to be away from the cameras. Kal lets out a deep sigh, trying to calm his nerves.
I wish there was something I could do to help him. I want to take his hurt away.
"How are you feeling?" Ari asks him. "Ready to kick some ass?"
"More like ready to cry," he admits.
"Don't worry, bro," Oliver slaps him on his shoulder. "You got this."
"We have to head inside," Kal's lawyer, Paula tells us. "It's starting in two minutes."
"Okay," Kal sucks in a deep breath. "Let's do this."
"You're alright, babe," Alex squeezes his hand. "It's going to be just fine."
We follow Paula further into the courthouse, away from the entrance. The hallways are relatively empty, but there's an elderly woman sitting on one of the benches, quietly sobbing into a stack of tissues. We come to a stop at the back of the hallway. Paula opens the door for us, letting us enter first.
Chad's case is huge, and it's evident through the size of the room. Even on TV, I haven't seen a courtroom this size. The rows are filled with people, whispering amongst themselves. A few people turn our way when they hear the door shut, but most people mind their own business.
I ignore the left side of the room, refusing to look at Chad's family. We take our seats on the right side, with me sitting between Kaleem and Oliver. Kal squeezes my hand.
"I don't want to look at them," he says.
"You don't have to," I tell him. "I'll do it for you."
"Tell me what they look like."
I finally shift my gaze to the left, instantly spotting Chad's family in the very front row. I don't recognize his mother or father, but Kyle has a face that's impossible to forget. He's bald, with a pointed grey goatee.
"Kyle looks the same, except even more pathetic," I say. "He's still got that ugly-ass goatee. He's wearing a suit, but with no cufflinks, and the wrong tie. He should be wearing a thin one instead of a thick one."
"He looks like a guy who's never worn a suit before and picked one up out of the trash," Alex adds. "It's last season Gucci."
I hate it when he says things like that. What does it matter what season his suit is from? It makes me feel like I need to run to the store and by the latest Chanel dresses—like there's something wrong with me for wearing my favorite vintage Dior skirt.
Besides, it's Gucci. It's going to be expensive regardless of what season it's from.
"Okay, I'm going to look," Kal states. He slowly turns his head to the left, gazing over the family. I feel his shoulders relax, overcoming his first fear. But he instantly tenses up again when we hear a door open. It's one at the front of the room.
Chad steps out of it, followed by two police officers. His hands are chained together at his front, but his handcuffs are covered by the sleeves of his suit jacket. His blonde hair has dulled to a darker shade and grown out much longer—the same length Liam's hair used to be. Thank god he cut his hair.
He nods at his family, but his eyes quickly drift over to me.
"Fuck him," I say. "Look away."
"Nah, fuck that," Kal states. He refused to look away and keeps his eyes locked on Chad. He stares him down, shooting him daggers. "I'm not backing down."
"Damn, you badass," I chuckle.
Chad's gaze shifts slightly. For a moment, I think he's looking at me, but when I glance over to the right, I see what it is.
Ari has raised her middle fingers up, casually flipping him off. Her face looks completely unbothered.
"Dude, if you do that when the judge is here, you'll get kicked out," Mary tells her.
"I don't give a fuck," she responds. "I don't like being in the same room as racist murders."
She raised her voice to say the last part, announcing it to the whole room. Everyone turns to look at us. I shake my head, trying my best not to laugh.
A smirk pulls at Chad's lips, somehow seeming proud to see us in the room.
God, he makes me sick.
If this jury doesn't find him guilty, I'm giving up all faith in the world.