The crowds parted for Sophie Kane, like a queen among peasants. Eve could see the back of her yellow hair, bouncing behind her. Was it possible for hair to sparkle? Sophie’s did.
And then, as Eve and Nessa waved bye to Eve’s mom and climbed out of the car, something strange began to happen. The crowd parted for them, too. Small groups split off and tightened, whispering to one another as Eve and Nessa walked by the bust of Henry Ford and through the school’s enormous front doors.
Eve slouched her shoulders forward, attempting to sink in her chest and disappear into Abe’s Detroit Pistons T-shirt.
“What do you think they’re saying?” she murmured to Nessa. “Do you think they think I wrote the list? It really bugs me that Curtis thinks I wrote the list.”
“Who cares?” Nessa answered. “This, too, shall pass,” she mouthed to Eve as they parted ways for homeroom.
Easier said than done. Why didn’t Nessa get that?
As Eve headed down the hallway, she felt her phone buzz and saw a text from an unknown number. It read: u look real good today
Eve checked all around her. Who had her number? Who was watching her?
Inside Mr. Flynn’s class, the bright overhead bulb made it feel like an interrogation room. No one was crying this morning. Instead, they stared at Eve. Miranda Garland smiled and waved. Eve saw that Miranda wore a necklace with a gold hamsa on it. How’d she get one so fast? Why’d she get one?
A woman in a tight pencil skirt and a white blouse stood at the front of Mr. Flynn’s desk. Behind her, Eve saw a PowerPoint presentation had been set up.
WHAT IS SEXUAL HARASSMENT? it read.
The boy next to her jiggled his knee and bit his fingernails.
The woman introduced herself and launched into her routine. “I’ve been brought here today, along with my colleagues currently in the other classrooms, to talk to you all about an incident that occurred yesterday. Who here knows what sexual harassment is?”
She said “harassment” with an emphasis on the first syllable—hairissment—and a few snickers could be heard around the room.
As she continued, every time she said “hairissment,” which was a lot, the giggles grew louder and louder.
Eve took out her notebook, pretended to take notes, and instead secretly scribbled poems.
When the bell rang, Mr. Flynn called her over. He waited to speak until everyone was gone.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
Eve felt herself blush. She always blushed, even if she wasn’t embarrassed. It was like her face was trying to tell the rest of her body to hide.
“I’m fine,” she answered.
The thought of Mr. Flynn looking at her face and thinking about how someone had called her the prettiest girl in the school filled her with dread. Was he thinking, “How could this awkward kid be prettiest?” Was it weird of Eve to even wonder that? Was he judging her just like everyone else was? Did he think she wrote the list herself?
“I just wanted to remind you that the counselors are available to talk. That’s their job, you know.” His eyebrows furrowed in that kind of ultraconcern that you never want to see on a grown-up’s face.
“Yup,” Eve mumbled.
“Okay … And Principal Yu is available, too,” he added. He seemed to want this conversation even less than Eve did.
“Thanks. I’m fine, though.” Eve held her notebook and schoolwork tight to her body and rushed out the door into the gawking crowds.
Out of the corner of her eye, Eve saw that sparkly blond hair again, reflecting glints of hallway light. And Eve gasped aloud as she saw that underneath the tips of Sophie’s hair, a piece of paper had been taped onto her dark red shirt, the loud black Sharpie on it yelling out #2.