“Good. Get Ms. Archer to call me when you graduate.”
“It’s Molly here,” I whisper, watching as Dwayne’s entire face lights up. Then I turn to Josh, lowering my voice. “And please don’t give them false hope.”
“Unlike some people in your life,” Josh whispers back, “I keep my promises.”
I blink, surprised by his dig at Brad. He ignores me, nodding at Leesha in the back.
“You wroteThey Called Him Dog?” Her tone is dubious.
Josh nods.
“But you aren’t poor.”
“No.”
“You raised poor?”
There are a few amused giggles. This is the quietest the class has ever been—and the most engaged. Every single phone sits untouched on their desk, all watching Josh in rapt attention.
“No. I wrote that one in partnership with James—or, as everyone knows the character, Dog.”
“So you took his story?”
Josh shakes his head. “Everyone has a story that only they can tell. I’m a writer. I can help people give breath to their stories—and I can use my production company’s platform to be heard.”
Amelia frowned. “I don’t have a story.”
“’Course you do.” Josh leans forward. “Where you from?”
“Rubiye.”
“Why’re you here?”
“Parents moved to Chars.”
“No, I mean here.” Josh waves a hand around the classroom.
“Got knocked up. No one wants to hire a teen baby momma.”
“Nowhere respectable anyway,” Nia calls, flicking her hair back.
“But why are you here,” Josh corrects again. “Yeah, you have a baby. But you could choose to be elsewhere. Why’re you here, in this class? Right now? What’s driving you to be here?”
Amelia’s chin juts out, her jaw clenching. “Wanna get my diploma.”
Josh settles back against the desk. “Why?”
She hesitates. “Wanna go to college. Give my baby a better life.”
Josh nods. “What degree?”
“Bioengineering.”
Josh whistles, ignoring the scoff from someone in the class. “Damn, you have a story. Make sure you’re writing it down cause one day, that kid of yours is going to want to know all about it.”
I clear my throat. “Next question?”
Hands shoot up.
