FRIEND

Paulie. I jump.

Mr. Langley is right

beside me, pointing

at the flowers on my paper.

Why did you change

them? he says.

I look at the picture.

I guess I wasn’t paying attention.

Instead of the lilies

Mr. Langley has in his vase,

I painted tulips.

Mama’s favorite.

I shrug and look away.

I can feel Mr. Langley’s

eyes on me, like he knows

why I did it and he didn’t really

need to ask me

at all.

But how could

he know?

Would you like to help me

with something after school? he says.

He waves his hand at some

crates beside me. In them

are cans of spray paint

in all different colors.

What is it? I say.

It’s the first time I’ve spoken

in a class since the

school year began.

You’ll see, he says,

smiling so the skin around his eyes

wrinkles like crumpled paper.

Okay, I say.

I’ll just have to let

Aunt Bee know.

Come as soon as the

bell rings, he says,

like he already knows

what Aunt Bee will say.

I walk down the hall,

counting the hours

until the school day ends.