Sellout Read Online Free

restroom, while my parents and Tilly rested in the living room. I could hear them talking about me through the bathroom door.
    “I told you not to expose her to all of this,” Tilly said. “This could have all been avoided. Why do you think I warned you both about living here?”
    “Everything is fine, Tilly,” Dad told her. “The girls danced a great show and Stephanie’s fall didn’t appear to be serious. This will pass and practice at the dance center will go back to normal in no time at all.”
    Wearing the scarves couldn’t possibly be that big of a deal. All the hottest fashion magazines had models wearing them. I bet even my mother had plans to add a few to her own wardrobe. Besides, with a bun, I looked like all the other dancers. Marcia wanted uniformity, so I gave it to her. Really, it was all her fault Stephanie fell.
    The grandfather clock tolled nine o’clock and jolted me back to life. I tiptoed out of the bathroom and sat just outside the living room so I couldn’t be seen.
    “Walter Jennings, this is bigger than that dance center and you know it,” Tilly said. She never used my dad’s full name. Or anyone’s for that matter, unless she meant business. Her voice was louder than it had been earlier. I could tell she was getting angry.
    I focused on the three-piece art display of African dancers hanging on the wall across from me. Those dancers had all kinds of scarves tied in their hair and on their bodies. What was so wrong with how I wore mine?
    “Tilly, this is normal behavior for teenagers,” my dad added. “Every week they are fighting with someone new.”
    “He’s right about that, Tilly,” my mom said. “Then a week later everyone is friends again. We shouldn’t blow this too far out of proportion.”
    “Girl, this town ain’t normal,” Tilly shot back. “There ain’t nothing normal about her being the only person of color in an entire school district. Nothing normal at all.”
    When Tilly got angry, it was “girl” this and “girl” that.
    “So, Tilly, what are you suggesting we do about this situation?” Dad said. My dad was the practical one in the family. Ifthere was a problem, he didn’t want to talk circles around it, he wanted a solution. Tilly and Mom weren’t ready to end it that quickly.
    “She needs to be around our own people for once,” Tilly said. “She’s been here her whole life. She needs to know who she is and where she comes from. I need her to know these things and, right now, she has no idea.”
    “So, tell her what you want her to know, Tilly,” my dad said, challenging her. “You keep talking about what NaTasha needs, but I think I know my own daughter and NaTasha knows exactly who she is…”
    “Your daughter wore some scarves to cover up the beautiful, kinky black hair the good Lord gave her, and you think there is no problem?” Tilly interrupted. “It’s bad enough you use some iron to straighten out the kinks in her hair that weren’t ever meant to be straight at all. It’s no wonder the child is confused. I’d be confused, too.”
    My mom didn’t say anything. I wanted to peek around the corner and see the expressions on their faces so bad. It must have looked like they were watching a bloody horror film and the main character just got stabbed.
    “Look, we’re on the same side here,” my dad said in his “make peace” voice. “We all want to protect Tash, but let’s remember that bad stuff in her life will come in all colors.”
    “But keeping her isolated here in this town isn’t helping her,” Tilly said. “There isn’t anything we can just tell her; she has to go out into the world and experience things for herself, good and bad. What she needs is a few weeks working withme and the girls at the center. She’s old enough to do that now.”
    For as long as I could remember, Tilly had volunteered at Amber’s Place, a safe place for girls in the city.
    There was a long pause. Surely, my parents wouldn’t go for a