Her brows furrow, and she leans in closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that.”
“Can I write it down?” I say, my right leg becoming restless. “It would be easier that way.”
The girl nods, handing me a notepad and a pen. My hand shakes a bit, and I feel as if everyone in the office is peeking over my shoulder.
When I give it back, I see the familiar reaction. Confusion, surprise, uncertainty, a quick, shifty look in my direction, then acting like everything’s fine.
She silently types it in the computer, and I’m grateful for that.
“All right, here we go,” she says, and her voice strains with forced cheeriness.
The printer springs to life, and my schedule is spat out.
She hands it to me. “Right. So you’ll be assigned a buddy to help you with anything you need. If you have any questions or want a quick tour, your buddy will be there.”
“Thanks,” I say, looking at my schedule. My classes are the same as they were back in my old public school with the exception of art. I can’t draw what I can’t see. I can’t paint without Mama. I can’t do it without the colors. So I’d decided not to take art this year and settled on art history, which should satisfy the requirement. “And how do I know who my buddy is?”
“Can I see—yeah, right here. Your buddy is Jamie Murphy. He shares most of your classes, so you’ll see him in your first period. He already knows you’re assigned to him.”
I frown. Why does that name sound familiar?
But before I can rummage through my thoughts, one of the older ladies working in the office stops short in front of me. She studies me from head to toe, and her nose wrinkles.
“This isn’t the girls’ uniform,” she says in a loud voice; it draws stares. “Young lady, you should be respecting the school’s rules.”
This is a play I’ve been a part of my entire life.
Different script, different audiences, same intentions.
I’m not even fazed.
“I know,” I say evenly. “But the girls’ uniform is a short skirt, which I can’t wear because I wear the hijab. The boys’ uniform lets me cover up, and I’m respecting the school’s rules as it’s still a uniform. I checked the regulations regarding this, and it’s not written anywhere in the handbook that girls or boys can’t wear either uniform.”
Her mouth presses into a thin sour line, and I know I won. Still, I don’t taste victory on my tongue.
“It isutterlyunsightly,” she hisses, and walks away before I can ask her to clarify what she meant. Even though I know the answer. I look back at the girl who helped me and find she’s wearing a different tie from mine. Hers isn’t a part of the uniform. Another student walks by with an embroidered sunflower on her skirt. I could laugh if the situation weren’t so horrible.
I dig my fingers into my palm, an ugly feeling like a stab thuddingin my heart. Regret that sours my blood because I didn’t say anything back.
No one stops me. No one says anything in my defense. No one speaks up.
No one ever does.
The hallways are chaos, and I imagine this is how it sounded when the Athenians gathered in the agora. Loud chatter mingling, which grows louder and louder so they can be heard, a few students gathered around a laptop watching something and cheering, a group of girls comparing the bags they’re carrying.
I have no idea where Alexis and her friends will be. She sent me a text this morning that saidI AM SO EXCITED FOR TODAY!!I shoot her a reply, telling her I’m at the school.
I study my schedule. I have English in room 5A.
I look around, searching for signs that indicate where the classes are. In doing so, I finally notice people staring at me, and I know I look out of place with the wrong uniform. I pat it down, focus on walking past them, and find the sign for 5A.
I climb up the stairs, telling myself not to trip. There are fifteen minutes left before class, and I’ve broken out into a fresh sweat.
Awesome.
I reach the class and open the door tentatively, feeling relief when there’s no one inside. Then I frown and double-check I have the time and class right. Yes, it’s Monday, and this is room 5A, and it’s twelfth-grade English literature.
I really like the classroom. It’s a small auditorium, but the desks and chairs are all made from wood. There’s a large window that spans the length of the room on one side, which overlooks the school’s gardens.
