“How’s school going?” he asks.
“Good,” I reply too fast.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to show you the ropes, or really see you at all in school.”
“It’s fine.”
Since Michael is a tenth-grade teacher, his class is in a different wing, which I really like. He’s a great guy, but I don’t want to see him all day in school, then at home, too. On the rare occasion that I do see him in passing, we wave to each other.
Later that night, I call Saint as I lie in bed, missing my old school and friends in Los Angeles.
“Hello.”
“It’s good to hear your voice,” I tell him.
“Aww, you miss me?” Saint asks playfully.
“I do, I miss Lo and Micah, too,” I say, my voice starting to waver. I’m trying hard not to cry as I blink tears away. I’m stronger than this.
“What’s the matter?” Saint asks.
“I didn’t expect my senior year to be like this. Most of the kids here are assholes, some are even racist. I made a few friends, but it’s still not the same.”
I tell him about the fried chicken incident. I don’t tell him about Maverick, because I know he’d come here. I don’t want him getting arrested because of me.
“What the fuck? You stood your ground and that’s what matters. She won’t fuck with you again.” All playfulness is gone from his voice.
“The look on her face was so hilarious. She did not expect that punch.” I laugh, my mood changing.
“I’m going to come visit you real soon.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Is there anything new going on with you?” I ask.
Saint and I catch up for about an hour then I go to bed.
The next day at school, my peers barely even look at me. I guess that punch I delivered to Victoria yesterday has everyone nervous. The two minions are in school today, but I haven’t seen Victoria. She’s most likely at home, nursing her war wound. Serves her right; she’ll think twice about fucking with me again. When I arrive to physics class, in true Maverick fashion, he doesn’t acknowledge me when I take my seat.
“I’ve decided to do the project on my own,” I tell him. It’s not like I have a choice, anyway. I can’t force him to work on the project. “When the project is done, I’ll type up some notes for you to look over.”
We’ll have to present the project together in front of the class. He still doesn’t say a word. I hope Mr. Barnes doesn’t pair us together on any more projects.
During lunch, my new friends dampen my mood.
“We cannot go to that party,” says Jamal.
“If we’re seen at that party, we’ll have to transfer schools,” adds Lucy.
Kate nods her head in agreement.
I throw my hands up in frustration. “No one from this school has the balls to go so who's going to see us there? No one will find out. Let loose and have fun. Since enrolling in this school, have any of you been invited to a party that one of these snobs had?”
They all shake their heads no.
“Do you really want to finish your senior year without going to at least one house party?”
