Mrs. Taylor blinks. “Your diploma? Graduation is days away…”
“I have a full ride to Juilliard, and I’m looking to start as soon as possible,” I say, lifting my chin.
Mrs. Hurst gives me a small nod. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. So, can I get my diploma or not?”
The principal tilts her chin down, staring over the rim of her glasses. “Rosalie, you know I can’t do that—”
“And why not?” My voice rises, the loudest I’ve ever dared to make it. “I get bullied for years, and most adults turn a blind eye to it, but the moment I finally decide to piss off like everyone wants, I can’t? I can’t win with you people.”
“Language,” Mrs. Hurts scolds. “This would go against the curriculum, and you’re valedictorian. Your peers are expecting a speech from you.”
I snort. “And we know how well the last one went.”
The principal’s face falls an inch, giving way to the consideration of my proposal. “How is your attendance?”
Mrs. Taylor balks as she glances between us. “You can’t be serious, Katherine!”
“Stellar besides the day I missed three weeks ago,” I shrug.
Mrs. Hurst nods. “Follow me.”
She leads me into her office, then opens a filing cabinet and pulls out my diploma. It’s bound in leather with theschool’s crest on it, and I take it with gentle hands.
“I’m only doing this because this school owes you far more than what it gave. I’m sorry, Rosalie.” She sounds genuine, and it makes the bridge of my nose sting. When was the last time an adult apologized for how I was treated? When was the last time someone saw a person rather than a broken, poor girl?
“It’s okay,” I sniffle, tucking my certificate under my arm.
The principal gives me a soft smile. “Make us proud.”
Chapter Thirteen
Roman
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
My teeth grind as Maddox’s leg shakes beside me. We’re in Music class, listening to the final session of droning by the teacher before graduation tomorrow. Everyone is in high spirits, considering most of our peers got into Ivy League colleges or prestigious universities. Us on the other hand…
Basic training starts next week. Our futures were cemented the moment my dad got a call from the principal a few days ago about Dirt’s little tumble down the stairs. But the Army isn’t what we’re concerned with.
“She still isn’t here,” Kairo growls low, his eyes trained on the classroom’s door.
He’s been more irritable lately, and it’s really starting to piss me off. Just as much as Maddox’s habits are. As if to punctuate my words, Maddox’s foot shakes again, causing my desk to rattle.
“Shake your leg one morefuckingtime,” I snap at my friend.
He stops, side-eyeing me with silent aggravation. We’re all irritable, and I don’t know why.
I stare straight ahead, pinpointing Dirt’s friend, Charlie, in the front row across from us. She looks up at the same moment I do before lifting her middle finger to her lips and kissing the point of it.
“Do you think she knows where Dirt is?” Maddox asks quietly.
“Only one way to find out,” I sneer.
