FOUR 

 

Riding the bus home, hanging onto Denise’s case like someone might take it, I thought about the stuff I wrote for the school paper that had got me here.

It really started because Mrs. West, the principal, was such a b. Everyone at school agreed about that. I stay out of trouble because Mom’s been saying “Don’t be like me, don’t be like me, dontbelikeme,” my whole frickin’ life, but I didn’t like Mrs. West any more than anyone else.

I didn’t even ever really write for the school paper. My English teacher told me I should, but it sounded kind of dumb.

What happened is that I saw Mrs. West coming out of a door I’d barely noticed before. But she looked guilty, so I noticed. I was on a bathroom pass. I tried the door after she left, but it was locked.

Was she smoking up in there? I wondered, laughing to myself. Naw, then she wouldn’t be such a b if she was high! I crack myself up so bad sometimes. I said it to Kendra too when I got back to class, and the teacher told us to hush up.

What also happened is that I’m nosy, and I like to listen in on conversations I’m not supposed to hear.

Some days after school I hang in Mr. Robinson’s room. He lets us play music on his stereo and decorate his board. Playing around in there, sometimes I feel like a little kid again and it’s nice.

Ms. Jeannie, my English teacher, came by a lot to talk to Mr. R and us kids. We think Jeannie and Mr. R are going out, but they have to hide it at school. We talk about them all the time.

I had my math open, but Kendra was doing my hair and we were singing our favorite song from choir.

Ms. Jeannie waved from the door, and Mr. R went over. It looked to me like she was crying. Mr. R stepped out and pulled the door mostly shut.

Kendra jumped up to write Ms. Jeannie’s name in heart letters on the board to tease Mr. R.

Carefully, so they wouldn’t see me, I slid over to the other side of the door.

“—want to do what’s best for the students, but it’s only November! How am I supposed to buy all my own supplies for the rest of the year?” I heard Jeannie say. “It’s not just the money. I mean, toilet paper! Is she kidding me?”

Mr. R swore. “She said we have to buy toilet paper?”

“I complained to the custodian that the staff restroom upstairs was always out. She also said I’ve used up my allotment of paper for copies for the year!”

“Wait, how are we supposed to know—”

“And remember how last spring she said the school was buying LCD projectors? I went to check one out, and she said there aren’t any.”

“Let’s go somewhere to talk … let me get rid of the girls and grab my stuff. Meet you outside, okay?”

I jumped away from the door. Kendra turned around, frowning.

Mr. R barely looked at us as he started to shove his grading in his backpack.

“Gotta go, girls,” he said. “Sorry.” Then he noticed the board. He shook his head and erased Jeannie’s name in one eraser sweep.

Kendra squeaked.

“And put the caps on the markers,” he said as he turned out the lights. “We can’t waste them.”