WHEN WE GET to St. Anthony’s Church for the meeting, there are a bunch of people there. Almost all adults. I guess G-ma’s not the only one who wants to talk about school stuff.

By now, I’m freaking out about what I’m supposed to say. G-ma thinks I’m some kind of model student, but I’m sitting on this secret detention of mine. How am I supposed to “tell my story” now?

Just when everyone starts taking their seats, I decide I’ve got to come clean first. She always keeps it real with me. Always. It’s the least I can do, you know, out of respect and everything.

“G-ma,” I say. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Can it wait, Kenneth? We’re about to start,” she says.

“I don’t think it can,” I say. “See, something happened today—”

But then I get cut off. Mrs. Clark from the neighborhood stands up at the front and claps her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Thank you for being here,” she says. “But I’m afraid I have an unpleasant announcement to make.”

G-ma’s not listening to me anymore. She’s looking at Mrs. Clark.

“What is it now?” G-ma mumbles.

My heart’s going fast and furious—yeah, just like the movies, but not so cool, and no Vin Diesel or pretty girls standing around in short-shorts. Just me with a pair of clammy, sweaty palms and an embarrassing case of cotton mouth. I know. Weak, right? I just want to bounce.

“G-ma,” I whisper. “It’s not my fault, but today I got a—”

But Mrs. Clark keeps talking. “We just received word that Principal Diaw will be leaving Union Middle School, effective immediately.”

WHAT? I think.

“WHAT?” G-ma says.

“Mr. Diaw has been transferred to a different school outside the district,” Mrs. Clark says—and then everyone starts talking at once.

 

I don’t really hear a lot of it. Mostly I just hear the parts about “Mr. Diaw” and “leaving.”

And I’m pretty sure they won’t be getting around to me anytime soon. No more story to tell! I’m off the hook! Well…at least for now.

I know this isn’t good news for the school. It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes G-ma so mad about UMS.

Everyone in the room, G-ma included, is growling, fussing, and straight flippin’ out. So I just stay in my seat with my mouth shut and a serious mean-mug drawn on my face.

But on the inside, it’s a little more like this—