I turn toward Ruth, or where she should be. Three older boys, their backs to me, are standing around my little sister, towering over her. One of them steps close to her. Too close. He knocks the books out of her arms, into the dirt.
I lunge toward them, but Ennis is faster. He dodges through a gap between the boys—he doesn’t shove them; we’re not allowed to touch any of them, no matter what they do to us—and pulls Ruth back toward me, leaving her books where they fell. He nods at me in a way that almost makes me believe he’s got everything under control.
He doesn’t. He can’t. If the boys do anything to him, Ennis doesn’t stand a chance, not with three against one. But they let him go, snarling, “We’re gonna make your life Hell, black boy.”
Ruth’s still holding her chin high, but she’s shaking harder than ever. I wrap my hand back around her arm. My knuckles go pale. I swallow. Once, twice, three times. Enough to keep my eyes steady and my cheeks dry.
“What about my books?” Ruth asks me.
“We’ll get you new books.” The blood is rushing in my ears. I remember I should’ve thanked Ennis. I look for him, but he’s surrounded by another group of white boys.
I can’t help him. I can’t stop walking.
Two girls, their faces all twisted up, start a new chant. “Two, four, six, eight! We don’t want to integrate!”
Others join in. The whole world is a sea of angry white faces and bright white flashbulbs. “Two, four, six, eight! We don’t want to—”
“Is the NAACP paying you to go to school here?” a reporter shouts. “Why are you doing this?”
A girl pushes past the reporter to yell in my ear. Her voice is so shrill I’m sure my eardrum will burst. “Niggers go home! Dirty niggers go home!”
Ennis is back in front, pushing through the crowd with Chuck. Ennis is very tall, so he’s easy to spot. People always ask if he plays basketball. He hates it because he’s terrible at basketball. He’s the best player on the football and baseball teams, though.
He was at our old school, anyway. That’s all done now that he’s coming to Jefferson. No sports for the boys, no choir for me, no cheerleading for Ruth. No dances or plays for any of us. No extracurriculars, that’s what Mrs. Mullins said, not this year.
Something flies through the air toward Ennis. I shout for him to duck, but I’m too late. Whatever it is bounces off his head. Ennis keeps moving like he didn’t even feel it.
I look for the police. They’re standing on the curb, watching us. One sees me looking and points toward the main entrance. Telling me to keep moving.
He’s looking right at us. He must have seen Ennis get hit.
He doesn’t care. None of them do.
I bet they’d care if we threw things back.
“Nigger!” The girl is still shrieking at me. “Nigger! Nigger! You’re nothing but a filthy, stinking nigger!”
We’re almost there. The door is only a few yards away, but the crowd of white people in front of it is too thick. And the shouts are getting louder.
We’ll never make it. We were stupid to think this could ever work.
I wonder if they knew that. The police. The judge. Mrs. Mullins. Daddy. Mama. Did they think we’d even get this far? Did they think this was enough?
Maybe next year. Maybe the year after that. Someday, they’ll let us through, but not today.
Please, God, let this be over.
Someone shrieks behind me. I glance back.
Yvonne is clutching her neck. I can’t tell if she’s bleeding.
“Yvonne!” Ruth tries to turn back, but I hold her arm. We can worry about Yvonne later.
“Nigger!” The white girl at my shoulder is so close I can feel her hot breath on my face. “Coon digger! Stinking nigger!”
“Oh!” Ruth stumbles. I reach to catch her before she falls, but she finds her footing quickly. She’s wiping something off her face.
The boy who spat on her is grinning. I want to hit him, hard, shove him back into the group of boys behind him. See how he likes it when he’s not the one with the power.
Instead I keep walking, propelling my sister forward. We’re inching closer to the doors.
We’re not so far now. Maybe we can get inside. Inside, it will be better.
“You know you ain’t going in there, nigger!” the girl screeches in my ear. “You turn around and go home if you know what’s good for you! We don’t want no niggers in our school!”
Ennis and Chuck are on the steps, almost at the front entrance. The doors are propped open. Behind them more white students are yelling and jostling. Two boys in letterman’s sweaters have their fists raised.
We just have to get past them. Inside the school, the teachers will keep everyone under control. The people who are shouting will start acting like regular people again. The entire school can’t be made up of monsters.
Chuck and Ennis have stopped to wait for the others to catch up. Ruth and I are right behind them, so we stop, too.
Now that we’re not moving, the crowd around us gets even thicker. The shouts get louder. The girl who’s been following me has been joined by two of her friends.