“Relax, new lady,” the girl says, and some others start laughing.
When I lift my head, I see that Ms. Bree has stopped sorting through piles of gray uniforms to glare at a thin white girl with braces.
“Ms. Pat, Tanya is…” Ms. Bree starts. The office door opens and Ms. Bree goes back to sorting. Ms. Pat steps out and moves to one side so Samantha can pass her.
“To bed.” She points to a single door to my right, and Samantha stomps off. “And Tanya, you hadbetterstop yelling before you don’t sleep in any room up here.”
“I’m just playing, sheesh,” Tanya says. “Y’all so serious all the time.”
Ms. Bree counts uniforms, two for each girl. She puts the bundle under her arm and heads back over to us.
“She’s a good example of going nowhere fast,” Ms. Bree says.
I feel my stomach sink.
“Take your uniform and Ms. Kim will show you where to go.” She hands me a folded pile and keeps moving down the line.
I look around for Ms. Kim, the “new lady,” who is standing in front of a large barred window, pointing to a worn three-seater with wooden arms near the TV. I walk over to the couch, but Tanya and another girl are using the empty middle seat as a footrest.
“Make room, ladies,” Ms. Kim says to the girls, tapping the back of the seat with her clipboard.
They move their legs but don’t bother looking at me. I take a deep breath and clutch my pile as I drop my body into the middle seat, careful not to touch them. The volume on the TV suddenly gets louder.
“Oops.” A girl laughs, plucking a remote out from underneath her and throwing it into an empty basket next to the TV. She just misses a sign with big red letters taped right above it.
NO SHARING OF FOOD OR OTHER ITEMS.
NO PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS.
ABSOLUTELY NO TOUCHING.
No one is following those rules, I think to myself, looking around the semicircle of seats. One girl is braiding another girl’s long dark brown hair as they lounge on beanbags. Three girls are sharing a bowl of popcorn on the other side of the sectional. Two girls are flipping through a notebook on single chairs that have been pushed together. Ms. Kim puts the last girls on the couch next to me, where the girl already sitting there nods off so hard she almost hits her head on the wall.
Tanya chuckles. “Maybe she’s dying.” She turns to the other girl on our couch like I’m not even there.
“Gotta be.” The other girl laughs too.
I busy myself with a stray thread on my jeans, not saying anything.
“Ooh shoot, the new girl doesn’t think I’m funny,” Tanya says. She pokes her knee into my thigh, and I slide over until I feel the knee of the other girl. I take a deep breath and exhale loudly, keeping my focus on the office window.
Ms. Bree and Ms. Kim are huddled together, going over something on a clipboard.Someone please come out.
“You too good for jokes?” Tanya asks.
I close my eyes and slide my sweating hands under my thighs, preparing to stand up if she gets any closer.
“She thinks you’re corny,” the other girl says, laughing.
Someone mutes the TV and I open my eyes. Everyone’s attention has turned to our couch.
“You’re doing too much, Tanya,” the girl holding the notebook says. She pulls a scrunchie from her pocket and gathers her long black hair into a tight ponytail. I notice she has a really colorful tattoo on her left wrist and I’m immediately impressed since color tattoos don’t always show up well on dark skin. She puts her hands on her knees like she’s bracing for something.
“You’re in my business again, Amari,” Tanya says.
The room is silent.
“You’re in hers.”
