Page 65
Storie
Ms. Lisbon was writing our assignment on the board when her phone vibrated across her desk.
I looked up from my notebook.
She glanced at the screen, turned it facedown, then went right back to telling us what she expected in our essays. Apparently, we needed stronger arguments. I needed her to return the papers she already had, but neither of us was getting what we wanted right then.
I had sent the message before class. Now I had to wait for somebody to ruin her morning.
“Your opinion needs support,” she said, underlining a word on the board. “You can’t just make a statement and expect your reader to accept it.”
I wrote that down. She always looked pleased when she saw me taking notes.
Her phone vibrated again.
She ignored it, which irritated me. I had already spent the morning listening to Justice ask Dream if she needed anything. He checked her arm before he even told me good morning. Then she wanted help picking a shirt that would fit over her cast.
The clumsy, brittle-boned brat had managed to make getting dressed everybody’s problem.
I would’ve never hurt Dream. A hurt Dream got carried around and fussed over. She got to interrupt conversations because something itched or she couldn’t reach her juice. Justice had barely put her down since she came home from the hospital.
That was exactly why I didn’t want anything to happen to her.
I may have threatened Dream to Skye or Melody whatever. But I didn’t mean it. It would be way too hot if I hurt Dream. Justice would never trust me again.
She had been running from me when she tripped. We were legitimately playing, and she fell down the deck stairs all on her own. I hadn’t even caught up with her. But somehow I ended up underneath his accusatory gaze while he looked at me like I had thrown her off the damn roof.
Dream told him what happened. She kept telling him, which should’ve settled it.
Instead, now we had cameras all over the damn house.
I couldn’t cross the living room without looking at one. There were more outside, including by the deck. I smiled and nodded while Justice explained them, then went upstairs to shut my bedroom door.
Ms. Lisbon’s phone started ringing.
She stopped writing.
“Excuse me.”
She crossed to her desk and silenced it. This time, she kept looking at the screen.
I rested my chin in my hand.
“Everybody go ahead and read the example on page forty-six.”
We had barely opened our books when a boy near the windows whispered, “What the fuck?”
Ms. Lisbon looked up.
“Watch your language.”
He stared at his phone before looking back at her.
“For real?” he asked.
“Put your phone away.”
He didn’t move to put it away. Instead, he turned the screen toward the girl beside him.
