Decision Time Read Free Page B

come back in a day or so to see if he can recall what took place,” said Officer Davis.
    â€œWell, I’m working on getting an attorney,” my dad said.
    â€œNo need for you to do that right at this moment.” Officer Miles removed a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to my father. “Call this number and give them the police report number. They’ll tell you which state prosecutor your case has been assigned to. We’ll continue our investigation and provide them with a report of our findings.” My dad exhaled loudly as he took the business card.
    â€œGet well soon,” said Officer Miles. He and Officer Davis turned and exited the room.
    â€œI’ll go and have the nurse order you some food,” Dr. Murphy said before stepping out.
    â€œWesley, think back. What happened?” my dad pleaded.
    â€œI don’t know,” I answered truthfully.
    â€œThat’s it. Leave him alone,” Grandmother Lorraine interrupted. “Let him get some rest.” I picked up my cup of water and took a sip. Just as I finished off the cup, my mother walked into the room. Without acknowledging anyone, she moved past my father and grandmother and hugged me. She reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. After a short embrace she pulled away and glanced accusingly over at my father.
    â€œDon’t say a word to me and don’t start saying a bunch of crap because I don’t want to hear it,” my dad snapped.
    â€œI told you that Wesley was a handful, but at least when he lived with me he never ended up getting shot. Maybe I need to take you back to court and claim that you’re an unfit father,” my mother spat.
    â€œStop it! Both of you!” Grandmother Lorraine moved between them. “This is neither the time nor place for squabbling. Come on. Let’s go out into the waiting room so Wesley can rest.” Grandmother Lorraine escorted both of them out of my room. I then rested my head on the pillow, closed my eyes and groaned.

three
    KEYSHA
    I squeezed into my black one-piece bathing suit, then shoved my hair under the matching black swimming cap. My suit was a little tight-fitting. It seemed to have shrunk since the last time I wore it for swim class. I made a mental note to pick up a new one the next time I was at the mall. I could’ve rented a swimming suit, but something about a rented bathing suit just grossed me out. Once I got my bathing suit to completely cover my behind, I walked out of the locker room and onto the pool deck, shivering uncontrollably. I felt as if I’d just walked into a freezer. I immediately snatched up a large towel from a nearby rack and draped it over my shoulders to keep warm. The scent of the chlorine was extra strong, so I knew that by the end of the class my skin would be desert-dry and itchy, which meant that I’d be using a good amount of moisturizer. Another reason to hate my Monday-morning swim class.
    â€œHurry up, ladies, and take a seat on the bleachers,” Miss McFadden, the swim teacher, bellowed out as she grabbed the attendance sheet for roll call.
    â€œYou know we’re learning how to do the backstroke today,” said Maya Carter just before I sat down next to her. Maya was my swimming partner and we were at the beginning stages of a friendship. I had met her not too long ago when our swim rotation in gym class began. The only reason that I said anything to her was because she seemed pretty cool. And she didn’t hang with the snobby girls who were constantly gossiping about everybody.
    â€œThat is a very nice-looking tattoo,” I said, admiring the details of the body art gracing her right shoulder.
    â€œThank you. My mom and dad still don’t know that I ran off and got this yet. Believe it or not I’ve only had it for a few weeks. When my parents do find out they’re going to hit the roof. Hopefully they won’t find out until I’m like eighteen and