I look away. “And how long have you been having fun here?”
“Half a year today. It’s my anniversary.” She snickers.
“You’re actually happy?” I expect to see the same somber look from earlier, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, Amari smiles. “This whole thing is a game. You just need to know how to play it.”
I turn my attention back to the front door and see a group of people walking on the sidewalk way down by the street. My curiosity about Amari is turning to confusion, and I hope Ms. Bree comes soon.
“Yeah, I’m not playing any games. I just want to go home.”
“They already think we’re bad, might as well live up to it.” She shrugs.
“No thanks,” I say, making a mental note for tonight’s journal entry.Part 1: Why do ALL adults suck?andPart 2: Is Amari crazy?
Amari leans back into her chair and stares at the ceiling. I sneak a look at her face. I notice the constellation of freckles across her nose and how long her eyelashes are. I also notice the tight set of her jaw, like she’s holding tension there. I don’t understand her. Does she not want to go home?
The door to the waiting room opens and she catches me looking at her. I turn away quickly. Ms. Bree waves us over and I trail behind, thinking about our conversation. Director Brewster definitely wouldn’t approve, but a part of me can’t wait for the next one.
9
“Cash or card, hun?”
I put down the box with my burger and dig through my bag. I don’t remember grabbing money this morning.Pleaselet there be money in here. I mutter an apology to the cafeteria cashier for taking so long.
Someone comes up next to me and I step aside a bit.
“Card, and two Cokes, please.”
I look over and make eye contact with Kayla. I finally pull out a twenty and offer it to her, but she pushes my hand away.
The cashier gives her the two sodas and her card.
“Thanks, Kayla,” I say, picking up my food and a few ketchup packets.
“Don’t mention it.”
Since Travis’s birthday dinner, Kayla has been different around me—sweeter, softer. More like the version of herself she is around our parents. We even watched a couple of episodes of a show together when we were both home on Sunday. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself, or be too naive, but it really does feel like Deanna’s intervention shook Kayla out of her ice-queen state.
I see Alice waving at Kayla from the double doors that open out to the athletic fields.
“Okay, later,” I say before she has time to change her mood.
She waves back at Alice and then looks at me. “Where do you eat?”
“The library. I just do homework and stuff.” I try to make it sound less lame.
“No way, you’re coming with me,” she declares, pulling me toward the double doors. “Time to meet my friends.”
As we approach a spot behind the bleachers where a few groups of kids are eating lunch, I see Alice gesturing wildly with her hands, telling a story. She then slides a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket, and I realize this must be where they come to avoid the administrators’ prying eyes. I immediately feel uneasy and start walking slower.
Kayla pats my arm. “They’re really cool, just be yourself.”
I nod, even though that doesn’t make me feel any better.
“Hey, guys, this is Jasmine,” Kayla announces as we plop down on a soft blanket covering the crisp grass.
Alice abruptly stops laughing and removes the cigarette from her lips with her perfect French manicure. “Weknowwho she is, Kayla.”
