“And who are these kids Serene is hanging around with who are so inspiring, academically? Steve and Dylan, who live on their skateboards? Maybe it's Bets with all the piercings. Funny, I haven't seen much studying going on here, but the sex is free flowing. And hey, I don't have a problem with it. She's a sexual being.”
Serene felt her face grow hot at Ramani's acknowledgment of her sex life.
“I mean, really, Aarav, who are all these academic strivers who are suddenly a part of Serene's life.”
“It's where they come from, and the opportunities provided them.”
“Oh. The opportunities. When you're a white kid in a nice white town, growing up in a nice white neighborhood, there are still plenty of opportunities, even if all you do is skate around town.”
“This is not about race!”
“What's it about then?”
“Kanani smoked meth.”
“Once. You think kids here can't get meth?”
“We've never seen or heard of Steve or Dylan doing meth.”
“You know what else we haven't seen? Academic striving, college goals. Isn't that what you're so concerned about? Serene's education?”
“Yes, but––”
“Steve's a slacker. Maybe we should tell him not to come by anymore, or Dylan, or Bets. Or maybe the new rule should be to interview Serene's friends and find out what their academic and life goals are before they come hang around here.”
“Stop it, Ramani. You're making a mockery of this.”
Another laugh. “Oh, baby, it's begging to be mocked. You know what Kanani's got that's missing in these kids here in Culver City? Hutzpah. Mana. Life. Strength. Realness. Rawness. And, yes, she's fucking brown, thank god. She's that too.”
Silence.
Ramani had won.
Serene slipped back into her room, mulling over their argument. There were so many aspects of her life that her parents had no awareness of. They didn't know that Bets read literary novels like they were candy. They didn't know that Steve also read––big thick sci-fi and thriller novels––or that Dylan had a job on weekends as a busboy at IHOP. Or that Serene was spending more and more of her weekends at Lanesha's in Crenshaw.
22
Bets - July 1996
"Betty Ross, right?" Detective Greiner said to the tall lanky girl with all the piercings.
Officer Hernandez had cordoned off the crime scene with yellow barrier tape, extending several yards out from the front entrance of the residence at 4250 Jackson Avenue, where the deceased body of Taylor Davis was found. Arriving first on the scene along with the paramedics, he'd shuttled the five witnesses out of the house when Taylor Davis was pronounced dead. Contained within the boundary of the taped off area, they'd been separated from each other as best as possible. So far, Officer Hernandez managed to get informal statements from two of the witnesses. Inside the house, the medical examiner performed a detailed assessment of the body, and a CSI was taking careful stock of every detail of the crime scene.
"Bets," the girl corrected and reached a trembling hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. She reeked of alcohol, eyeliner as smudged as a football player's eye black. Her tears had left tarry streaks of mascara on her cheeks.
Detective Greiner gave her a sympathetic smile. The girl's facial muscles contorted to hold back more tears.
"I'm very sorry, Bets," Detective Greiner said in a soft voice. "I need to get some information from you. What's your phone number?"
"310-677-4949."
"And your address?"
"I live at 3017 Helms Ave."
"Are you in school?"
"I'll be a junior at Culver City High."
"Do you have a job?"
"No."
"Can you tell me what you remember about this evening?"
The girl took a wavering breath, her eyes swimming with tears. "I, um… Serene told me to stop by."
"And Serene is?"
Bets pointed in the direction of a statuesque African American girl with lots of little braids that reached her mid-back. She stood near the southern corner of the tape next to a dark-haired boy being questioned by Hernandez. Detective Greiner felt a stab of irritation that the two were not adequately separated from each other.
"Is this Serene's house?"
"No, it's Enzo Moreno's. Serene lives next door. Enzo invited us over for dinner."
"Are Enzo's parents here?"
Bets shook her head, no. Her nose reddened as more tears came.
"And what time did you come here to Enzo's house for the dinner party?"
"Like, after eight, I think. I'm not really sure."
"How many of you were at dinner?"
Bets counted silently on her fingers. "Six. I wasn't expecting to see Taylor because I knew her and Enzo were kind of on the outs with each other. So I was surprised she was here."
"Can you tell me what you remember about this evening?"
Bets crossed her arms and pulled her bottom lip over the top. "When me and Kanani came over, Enzo was cooking, and Taylor was helping him.
"So, was Serene already here when you and Kanani showed up?"
"No. She was at Steve's."
"And is Steve here?"
Bets pointed at the boy Serene stood next to. "They came over a little after us. When I saw Taylor was here, I thought about leaving, but after Serene arrived, she talked me into staying."
"Why were you upset to see Taylor?"
Bets fell silent.
Greiner waited.
"She came onto my boyfriend." She made a small whining sound. "But now she's dead. Oh god."
"Okay," Greiner said softly. "Let's go through the events one step at a time."
Bets nodded. "Everything went okay for the most part. We ate, and then after dinner Kanani started in on Taylor about how stuck up she was, and the fact that she'd been flirting with Mark."
"Who is Mark?"
"My boyfriend." Bets wiped her eyes and then looked off in the distance like she could see the scene playing out in front of her. "Enzo got kind of jealous and asked her if it was true, but Taylor laughed it off, which made me super mad. She has this way of really knowing how to get under a person's skin––or had." She added softly. "But none of that matters, right? Because now she's dead."
