“OOOH, YOU STINK!” says Angel, making a face the minute I sit down.
“Yeah, just like your mama,” I say back. I’m so sick of her messin’ with me!
“Oooh, burn!” laughs Kevon.
“At least my mama don’t make me wear the same clothes every day!” Angel says, glaring at me like “Gotcha!” I freeze for a second, wondering if she knows. How could she know? Kevon’s head swivels to me, waiting for me to put the smack down on Angel.
I open my mouth, not sure what’s gonna come out, but Mrs. Fisher cuts me off.
“Isaiah, no talking during announcements,” she says with a frown.
“Yeah, your breath is distracting me,” Angel says.
“Your ugly face is a distraction!” I tell her. She just doesn’t know how close I am to exploding.
“Isaiah! I said be quiet!” Mrs. Fisher stands up. “Have you completed your Morning Minute?”
“No.”
“Well, focus on that instead of talking.”
I roll my eyes. I wanna tell Mrs. Fisher there’s no way I’m writing about “my favorite room in my house” when I have no house. I open Daddy’s notebook instead and read a story about a little girl seeing the ocean for the first time. The little girl sounds a lot like Charlie.
“What’s that?” whispers Kevon.
“None of your business.”
Kevon frowns and keeps working on his Morning Minute. I’m not trying to be mean, but Kevon’s not Sneaky, and this stuff is personal.
The announcements go off, and Mrs. Fisher starts talking about our language arts project, but I don’t stop reading. I want Daddy’s words to magically sweep me away from here, like the waves he wrote about.
“Isaiah, bring that up here, please.”
Mrs. Fisher’s voice is like a Mama-smack on the back of the head, and I jump.
“Bring what up where?” I ask, putting my hand on top of the notebook. Eyes glue themselves on me, including Angel’s.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Mrs. Fisher says. “Bring it up right now. You may have it back at the end of class.”
“Maaaan!” I groan extra loud and stand up slowly. I don’t like the idea of Daddy’s notebook being in Mrs. Fisher’s nasty spit fingers. She’s one of those people who licks her fingers when she passes back papers, and I always end up with a wet thumbprint. Gross!
I grip Daddy’s notebook in my hand, and I already know I’m not letting go of it.
Next thing I know, I’m tripping over something and almost face-plant in front of everyone. Kids laugh, including Angel. But her laugh is different. Mean.
“Dang, watch it, Isaiah Dumb!” she says.
That’s when I snap. I narrow my eyes and shove her as hard as I can. Both her and her chair go flying backward, and then she’s looking up at me with shocked eyes.
I barely hear Mrs. Fisher yell at me to get out of her class. She reaches for her classroom phone and calls for Mr. Simms, one of the safety monitors, but I don’t wait for him to get there. I just take my notebook and leave. It doesn’t take long for Mr. Simms to find me.
“Hey, slow it down there,” Mr. Simms says. “You know our walk is gonna be to the office, right?”
I don’t answer. Me and Mr. Simms walk in the same rhythm: left, right, left, right.
“So what’s going on?” he asks me.
“Nothing.”
When we get into the office, Mr. Tobin’s standing by his door. Man, Mrs. Fisher made her phone calls pretty fast.
“Inside, Mr. Dunn,” Mr. Tobin says, super serious. I follow him and sit in the same chair I always do. Mr. Tobin sits, too, and stares me down.
“I just got a disturbing call from Mrs. Fisher. Again,” he says, and I can tell he’s not playing this time. “Why don’t you share with me what happened in her class, and why you decided to disregard what we talked about last time.”
“Angel Atkins calls me names and messes with me all the time. Today she tripped me in front of everyone, so I pushed her, and she fell out her chair.”
Mr. Tobin studies me for a sec, like he didn’t expect me to confess everything right away.
“Isaiah,” he says finally, “I think you know that we can’t have this kind of behavior at school.”
I don’t say anything, but I’m wondering if we also can’t have Angel’s behavior at school.
Mr. Tobin grabs something off the bookcase behind him and holds it up.
“Remember this?” he asks. I look at what’s in his hand. Woodson Elementary Student Code of Conduct.
I shrug.
Mr. Tobin flips through the pages and hands the booklet to me.
“I want you to read the section on fighting,” he says. When I don’t take the book right away, he clears his throat.
“That would be now, Isaiah.”
I sigh and take the book. I stare at the page but don’t read a thing. Instead, I pretend it’s one of Daddy’s stories, that I’m Isaiah Dunn, Superhero, cracking a code that an evil principal has hidden inside a—
“Isaiah.”
“Huh?”
“You didn’t answer my question. What if your classmate had gotten seriously hurt?”
“I don’t know,” I say, not really caring if Angel was hurt or not.
“You said she’s been teasing you.” Mr. Tobin waits.
“Yeah.”
“Did you talk to Mrs. Fisher about this, or to Ms. Marlee when you saw her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I shrug and study my shoes. I’m getting a hole where my big toe is. Sneaky would flip out if he found a hole in one of his shoes. I wonder what pair he’s gonna buy next.
Mr. Tobin taps his fingers on his desk.
“I know you’ve been dealing with a lot, Isaiah,” he says. “How are you and your mom doing?”
“Good.”
“Anything happening at home that you need to talk about?”
I shake my head. No home, so nothing to talk about.
Mr. Tobin says that even though I’m dealing with loss, my behavior is unacceptable. He says he has to suspend me. And that he has to call Mama. That’s when I start to get nervous. Mr. Tobin types on his computer and then picks up the phone. I stare at a crack near the bottom of Mr. Tobin’s desk and pray mad hard that Mama’s okay when she answers.
“Hello, Mrs. Dunn? This is Principal Tobin from Woodson Elementary.” He pauses, and a small frown crosses his face. My stomach flips, and my palms get sweaty.
“I said, this is Mr. Tobin, principal at Woodson.” A pause. Mr. Tobin taps his pen on his desk, gives me a funny look. “Well, Isaiah got into some trouble today. He’ll have to serve a five-day suspension, and we’ll need you to come pick him up.”
That’s when I hear Mama’s voice through the phone, and it’s not pretty. Mr. Tobin tells Mama we’ll have a follow-up meeting when I come back. It’s super quiet when Mr. Tobin hangs up, like a thick secret is floating around.
“Your mom wanted you to walk to the library,” Mr. Tobin says.
I stand up quickly, but he’s not done yet.
“But I told her she personally needs to pick you up.”
“Huh?”
“Is that where you go after school?”
“Yeah.”
“And your mother picks you up from there?”
“Yeah.”
“Where does your mom work?”
“I don’t know,” I tell Mr. Tobin. I think about Mama’s old job, and how she keeps telling us she’s gonna try to go back. Mr. Tobin needs to stop buggin’ me with all these questions!
“Okay, Isaiah, wait in the lobby with Ms. Kenney until your mom gets here.”
I sit in the chair closest to the door and listen to the rocket clock ticking and Ms. Kenney typing and answering the phone with “Woodson Elementary, how can I help you?” As soon as I see Mama coming in the front door, I jump up.
“Hold on, Isaiah,” Ms. Kenney says. “She’ll have to sign you out.”
“But—” I want to tell Ms. Kenney that’s a bad idea, cuz I see Mama coming, and she doesn’t look good at all. Before I can even think of a superhero move to get me away from all of this, Mama’s busting into the office. Her eyes find me, and I want to disappear.
“Isaiah?” Her voice is strange and loud. “Today? You wanna act a fool today?”
I open my mouth to tell her what happened, but she shakes her head.
“No. Don’t even say anything. Come on, let’s go.”
“Ma’am, you’ll need to sign Isaiah out,” Ms. Kenney says. “And I believe Mr. Tobin wants to—”
“I don’t have time for all that,” Mama says. She scribbles her name on the clipboard on Ms. Kenney’s desk. “You called me up here to get Isaiah, so that’s what I’m doing.” Mama looks at me. “I said, come on!”
We move toward the door, and Mama waves off Mr. Tobin when he heads over, asking Mama to calm down and talk with him for a minute.
I keep my eyes glued to the ground all the way to the car.