I abruptly stood. “This is ridiculous! Can I at least ask who’s accusing me?”
I had an idea, but I wanted to confirm it.
“Not at this moment. You will be notified of the school council meeting date, and all relevant information will be provided. In the meantime, you may gather your personal belongings and leave the campus.”
“This is a mistake,” I murmured tonelessly.
Morales didn’t disagree.
She didn’t agree either.
Her silence followed me out.
I didn’t go straight to my classroom after leaving Morales’s office.
I stood in the hallway instead, fists clenched, watching students pass as if nothing had changed. Lockers slammed. Someone laughed. A girl ran by late to whatever class she had next.
Taryn was standing near her locker, arms crossed over her chest, with a satisfied look on her face.
Staring directly at me.
For a brief moment, a young girl with braids and a gap-toothed smile replaced eighteen-year-old Taryn.
At eight years old, Taryn Calder was all knees and elbows, with hair in uneven braids that constantly came undone.
She trailed after Adrian and me constantly. Always asking questions, talking a mile a minute.
“Wait up,” she’d called, breathless, barely able to keep up with us.
Adrian rolled his eyes, but stopped all the same. “What, T?”
My friend was cold to everyone except her.
And maybe me… sometimes.
His analytical mind set him apart from others; he was different, but I understood him. We balanced each other well. He was cool and logical, and I was impulsive and hot-headed. Since the first day of kindergarten, we’ve been best friends, and I was grateful for it.
“I want to go with you.” She stomped her foot and put her hands on her hips.
I had to acknowledge, even to myself, that she was cute— with big gray eyes and her missing front teeth.
“You can’t.” He gently pulled one of her braids.
Taryn pouted. “But you promised to help me finish my clubhouse.”
Adrian turned to me and sighed, “I did promise.”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Really, man?” I mumbled out of the side of my mouth. “You know that these girls put out. You’re going to pass that up to work on an eight-year-olds club house?”
At fourteen, the prospect of getting laid superseded anything else.
“Please, Annie!” The little brat gave Adrian puppy dog eyes.
He sighed again, “I hate it when you call me that.”
His tone made it clear I’d lost my wingman. He could never deny her anything. Dammit! I wasn’t counting on his charisma to attract these girls; I’m not even sure he was capable of charming anyone. That was my job. It was his looks, combined with mine, that I hoped would help us get laid.
Taryn looked at me.
