“No clue,” I say with as much nonchalance as I can. I don’t want to push my luck by saying something that could get me in trouble, so I just think it.Just as you had no idea who humiliated me, even though I told you.
He nods. “All right. Thank you for your candor, Jihad.”
I take it as my cue to leave, but when I reach the door, he calls me again.
“If there is any evidence you were behind this,” he says, holding my gaze, “we will have no choice but to expel you at best. And if the board of directors finds we should press charges for the damage that happened to the school, then that’s what you’ll be facing as well.”
I nod.
Once I’m outside, I finally take in my first deep breath.
News has spread across the entire school that I’m the number one suspect. Whispers follow me, and the police investigating give melingering looks like I’m a real threat who, at any second, will start attacking. When they ask me questions, I give the same answers I gave Dr. Mérieux. I don’t like looking at them. I don’t want to talk to them.Thisthey’ll make into a tragedy to be discussed for years to come. But the cold-blooded murder of a woman who looked like me is just another unfortunate and unimportant something that happened.
Alexis gives me looks the whole time that scream,End this now and tell him.
I ignore her.
Jamie comes in and drops right down onto the seat next to me, firmly ignoring everyone around us. He doesn’t say anything to me, just takes out his books and laptop. When the professor walks in, beginning the class, and I start writing in my notebook. Jamie leans over to my side and scribbles on the top of the open page:Everything okay?
I want to tell him about what happened with Alexis, so I write in the margin.We’ll talk during lunch.
We have separate classes for the next three periods. He nods at me before leaving.
“Art studio?” he asks. I nod, my heart feeling lighter just looking at him.
I’m in the bathroom washing my face when Audrey storms in, closing the door behind her. She quickly checks the stalls, and when she finds them empty, she turns to me. I watch her in the mirror warily.
“Interesting how the mural showed up after the gym thing,” she says. Her hair is in two short pigtails, and there are smudges under her eyes like she’s been up at night.
“Are you here to tell me that you also think I did it?”
“I don’t care if you did it. I’ve been thinking about what you said. Doing something. Because… because someone has to. Someone has to take the first step. You know why I work on the school paper?”
I shrug.
She walks over, leaning against the sink, and turns her head toward me. “My whole family are literature nerds, to put it lightly. We have Pulitzer winners and, they like to say, we’re related to Alice Munro.” I raise my eyebrows, and she frowns. “The 2013 Nobel Prize winner in Literature.”
“Ah, okay,” I say, because I don’t know what else to reply with.
“I grew up with that path made so easy for me to take. I mean, we have an entire library dedicated to first edition books. We have a first edition of Jane Austen’sPride and Prejudice.”
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”
She takes in a deep breath. “I was surrounded by people who made a difference. Whether I knew them from books or my family. I wanted to be like that. I write articles in my free time to make myself a better writer. I don’t just write columns about the new students. I’m sure you haven’t read our school newspaper. Nobody does, but I don’t care, because I’m doing it for me. For my future.” She glances up at the ceiling. “But how can I have a career in journalism when I’m not using what I have to start it the right way?” She looks at me, her eyes on full volume. “We could get into a lot of trouble. Unfortunately, you more than me. But I want to write about you and the school and what’s happening.”
My hands become clammy. “Wait… so my name and everything else about me would be in a school newspaper article that talks about how I get bullied for being Muslim, my name, and economic status?”
She nods.
I shake my head. “No. No.”
Her brows furrow. “What do you mean, no?”
I swallow hard. “I’m not a victim, Audrey. I get this is a good way to show what’s going on, but I can’t have my name associated with ‘bullied victim’ for the rest of my life. Anything posted is forever.Especially if it’s going to mean that people will think I’m the one who did the murals.”
She studies me for a long second. “I’m trying to help you. You said you needed it.”
I nod. “I do, and I’m grateful you’re offering; I really am. No one else has done that. But you need to know that if an article like this gets published, at best, it’ll be contained to the school. They may or may not expel Nicole and her friends. But then I would spend the rest of the school year scared of the retaliation thatwillcome. Because Nicole can fight back with her family, and no school newspaper will stop it. At worst,Iget expelled because they’ll say I’m the one responsible for the murals. My life will be on display for everyone to read about. People will… they will find things about my family, and my name will be everything they need to make me the bad guy here. It’ll be really difficult to get into colleges, to get jobs. I have it hard as it is. I’m not…” I turn on the faucet and splash water onto my face. “I was wrong. Thank you for offering, but I don’t need help. Not now. Not here. Maybe after I graduate from Braxton, I can tell the world what happened. When I’m away, far away.”
