Pieces of Why by K. L. Going Page A

again, I wanted to burst.
    â€œYou mean at June Fest?” I blurted. “Yeah. The tenors were flat.”
    Keisha groaned like I was about as hopeless as they came, but Kenny didn’t seem to notice.
    â€œWe’re always f-flat,” he said, chuckling. “Lorenzo Reyes c-can’t sing on k-key to save his life.”
    Keisha snorted. “At least you haven’t got Mary-Kate and Amber Allen trying to out-sing the whole choir. I mean, hello? It’s called a choir because our voices are supposed to blend.”
    Showboating was one of Ms. Marion’s pet peeves:
No on
e shines unless we a
ll shine.
    â€œThe choir sounds a lot better when you’re there,” I said to Kenny, feeling heat spread from my neck to my cheeks. But it was true. Kenny had an amazing voice—clear and steady—and when he sang he never stuttered.
    â€œYou think s-so?” Kenny asked, grinning. “M-maybe sometime w-we could—”
    This time I really did wish Kenny could talk faster, because he didn’t get to finish his sentence before Loretta, Ms.Evette, Dwayne, and Jerome came up behind us. And if that wasn’t bad enough, at the same time, Kenny’s family came over.
    Kenny’s mother glared at me, as if I was already a bad influence on her son. I wondered if she knew about my father. All the adults said hello and made small talk, and the whole time I was crushed like a vise between Loretta and Kenny’s mom.
    I guessed Kenny had been about to ask if we could sing together, and I wanted that so bad, but right then, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever sing again. What would Kenny think if he knew what my dad had done?
    When I finally risked a glance in Kenny’s direction, he was watching me with his head cocked to one side, studying me with warm, kind eyes.
    They were the eyes of someone who knew what it felt like to be judged.
    If all the adults hadn’t been around, I would have reached out to hold his hand. I imagined myself squeezing lightly, the way he’d done the night of the shooting, offering up the silent truth that maybe we could do this together.

    Since Loretta bunked with Keisha whenever she visited, Ma had swapped shifts that night, so I could sleep at home. I was relieved to be in my own bed, but I still tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Loretta had said to Ms. Evette.
    One way or a
nother, that girl is
going to be disturb
ed.
    Was that true? Did being the daughter of a murderer mean I’d grow up to do horrible things? It was as if my father had stolen my future. But really, Danielle was the one whose future had been stolen. How could I complain when at least I was still alive?
    My window was open, and outside I could hear my neighbors gambling on their front porch. There was music in their voices.
    Roll them bones.
    Sna
ke eyes, snake eyes.
    C’mon, lady luck.
    Whenever a breeze came by, the leftover Mardi Gras beads caught in the branches of the trees rattled like their dice. The sound of a calliope drifted on the wind from a riverboat far away on the Mississippi. Something about that bright, cheerful sound made me think about that other hot, humid day when I’d sung my heart out, feeling like a magician pulling scarves out of my sleeve. Then I thought about Kenny’s face lighting up when he thought we might sing together.
    He didn’t think I was evil spawn.
    But what if he was wrong?
    I smacked the wall in frustration. Ma must not have been sleeping well, because in an instant, she was in my doorway, bleary-eyed with her hair sticking up in patches.
    â€œWhat happened? Are you okay?”
    I flopped back onto my bed. “Fine. You must have been dreaming.” I wondered how come I’d never noticed how much lying Ma and I did. It was like a song on the radio that I swore I’d never heard before, but once I recognized it, I realized the DJ played it every five minutes.
    â€œWhat