I feel the tears coming again, but I don’t want my mom to see. Travis steps in front of her and tries to take her out of the room. I bolt past them and into the hallway.
“I am not done talking to you,” my mom calls after me.
I slam my door, slipping into the bathroom when I hear them coming.
“Jasmine! Come out here,” my mom yells as I shut the bathroom door.
I lock it. “I never want to talk to you again!” I scream.
Travis says something in a low voice. “This is too much,” she says to him. My mom is out of breath and sounds like she might break down.
I’m angry and frustrated, but I’m starting to feel bad about the way I spoke to her, guilt and shame crowding into my swirling emotions. I crumple onto the floor, sobbing.
“Jasmine, please open up.” Travis sounds concerned. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Go away, please,” I beg, the tears coming rapidly now.
He says something to my mom and then it gets quiet.
I turn the shower to the hottest temperature so steam can fog up the mirror. I don’t want to see myself anymore.
Then
I’m starting to wonder if there’s a reason why they deliver all my horrible news right before science. It’s like every time I’m outside of this door, I have to prepare myself for what the girls on the other side already know—especially Tanya, who doesn’t seem to miss a thing.
“And another one,” a man says when I open the door. I guess he’s the substitute teacher. “You are?”
“Not going home!” someone yells, and several girls laugh.
“Quiet, please,” he says, then turns back to me. “Your name?”
“Jasmine,” I say, looking around for any open seat other than the one next to Tanya.
“Well, Jasmine, like I told the other girls, you’re stuck with me for a few days, so get settled.” He points to the empty seat I’m avoiding.
I put my hands in my hoodie pocket. The urge to walk out instantly disappears when my fingers touch a folded piece of paper. The other girls talk quietly among themselves, and for the first time, I’m grateful for their short attention spans.
I avoid eye contact with Tanya all the way to the seat and brace myself for her to say something annoying. I’m not in the mood today.
“You didn’t know about the roof alarm?” she says, moving her notebook from the empty chair.
I look at her. She can tell I’m confused.
“The silent alarm?” she goes on.
My stomach turns and I feel like I might throw up.
The teacher shoots Tanya a look of disapproval and she stops talking. The class starts reading together out loud.
I need some air. I push my chair back, grab the bathroom pass, and leave the room.
Ms. Bree is right outside the door. “Missing class? Aren’t you in enough trouble already?”
“I don’t feel well,” I say.
“Since you’re here, your mother called,” she says. “I’ll take you so you can call her back.”
I follow Ms. Bree down the hall, wondering who Tanya heard from and what happened to Amari. Then I remember the reason we are walking to the unit and my stomach twists itself into a new knot.
