Mr.Dunkle shouted, “Don’t open that drawer!”
Fox said, “Ah ha!”
Indira said, “These are vape pens; where’s Keme’s lunch?”
And Keme, clearly overcome by frustration, burst out, “Nobody is stealing my lunch!I’ve been giving it to Millie!”
They must have heard us in the classroom because the silence was absolute.
And then a hand fell on my shoulder.And a matching one landed on Keme’s arm.And a voice I was starting to dread said, “Mr.Dane.Mr.Collson.Why don’t we have a talk about wandering the halls during class?”
5
No matter what your age, being chewed out by the principal isn’t any fun.
But it does kind of give you a rush.
After, we had to wait in the hall while Mr.Gates talked to Indira and Fox—presumably because they weremyparental guardians.Believe it or not, I’d never gotten sent to the principal’s office during high school, probably because of a cocktail of social anxiety and severe perfectionism.So, it was kind of fun to sit there with Keme, kicking the legs of the old wooden chair, slouching, and generally being no good, rotten, and a whole lot of trouble.
That thought made me perk up.“Oh my God!We’re the bad boys!”
Keme didn’t exactly groan.But he did cover his eyes.
“I’ll be Duke,” I said, “and you can be Butch.No, wait,Iwant to be Butch—”
“If I apologize, will you please stop?”
I didn’t say anything; sometimes, that’s the best policy with Keme.
Several long seconds passed, and then he mumbled, “I’m sorry I lied to you.”
“What’s going on?”I asked.“Does Millie need money?”
Keme snorted.“She’s got so much saved it’s crazy.”
“So, what happened?”
“I don’t know.”He squirmed around on the hard wooden seat.“You started making me lunch, and the first day I got into the car with it, Millie got this huge smile on her face and said, ‘Is that for me?’And I couldn’t say no.”He uncovered his eyes, but only so he could stare glumly at the principal’s office.“Then she loved the sandwich, and she asked if I would make it that way again—”
“It’s the potato chips.Fried, salted potatoes are basically the secret to all good recipes.I mean, not desserts obviously, although maybe—” For someone deep in an apology, Keme could still muster a look of withering scorn.“Uh, you were saying?”
“I’ll pay you back.”
“Keme, it’s okay.I would have given you the money anyway.”
“I’m going to get a job.I know you’re all working really hard to take care of—” He hesitated, and I wondered if he had almost saidme.But when he spoke again, all he said was “—stuff, and I don’t want to be dead weight.”
“Plus Millie’s been paying for all your dates.”
He did groan this time.
“She has a lot of money?”I asked.
“From her homemade jewelry.”He was back to brooding again as he added, “It’s ridiculous how much she has.”
It certainly raised questions—among them, if I had, perhaps, made a mistake in my choice of career, and perhaps I’d be better off making earrings out of upcycled fishhooks.(Or whatever it was Millie did.)
In a completely different tone, Keme asked, “Did Indira make Mr.Dunkle pee himself?”
