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I think I like having a family who gives a shit. I want to keep them for as long as possible.

CHAPTER

EIGHT

NOOR

My morning is dragging with red tape and bullshit. The principal kept Ignacio, Rachelle, and I in his office for an hour and a half expostulating about how I needed to fit in better at the school. Rachelle flipped into condescending ‘Mom’ mode to explain to him how wrong his reasoning was, Ignacio suggested legal action for failing to keep me safe at school, and I sat there in shock.

I’ve lived through a lot of shitty conversations with principals over the years due to my fight for accommodations. Little things like asking to bring a fan to class when the AC went out in the sixth grade for three months or asking for extra time between classes due to having to climb the stairs.

This is one of the only times someone has argued on my behalf as passionately as I would have. I’m not really sure how to process that except with a deep well of gratitude.

I’m kind of floating in a state of shock on my way to have lunch with Rachelle when a voice begins to speak over the intercom.

“Students, the principal would like to remind you he needs a moment of your time,” a woman says. “Please head to auditorium A for further instructions.”

I’m not the only one who groans at this information, and I follow the wave of students toward the auditorium.

“Hey!” a girl says, pushing through the crowd to walk next to me.

I ignore her, sure she’s not speaking to me. Why would she when I’m persona non grata?

“Yo, you’re the new girl, right?” she asks again.

“I am,” I say succinctly. I really don’t want to talk. I’m beginning to feel sore again from sitting so long. It doesn’t matter I’ve only made it to one class, Principal Keer’s chairs belong in a torture chamber. It was impossible to get comfortable.

“I’m Kate,” she says with a bright smile. I want to ask her why I should give a shit, but instead give her a tight lipped smile. I don’t want to be a bitch, but the girls at this school have already given me their version of a warm welcome.

I’ll pass on a second.

“Hey,” I reply. “I’m Noor.”

“Come sit with my friends and I,” she says. “Whenever the principal gives a speech, it’s never just a ‘moment of our time.’”

Yep, he likes the sound of his own voice. I’ve noticed.

I keep that as inside-my-head thought since it’s rude. “I’d love to, but I need to make sure I get a seat near the front,” I explain. “Stairs and I aren’t friends.”

“It’s leg day, huh?” she asks sympathetically.

Sure. Let’s go with that since I’m allergic to exercise. The crowd walks into the gymnasium and spreads out, and I find a spot to sit in the second row. I kind of zone out as everyone finds a seat, and then the principal is holding a microphone.

The squeal from the audio feedback makes everyone wince as he moves it to his mouth, and he shrugs. I doubt that he’d care about causing us auditory distress.

“I’m sorry to catch you at lunch, but it’s important,” he begins. “As you know, we are a school that believes in educational excellence, as well as being rounded. It’s important not only to give your college applications an added boost, but also helps your bodies take a break from hitting the books.

“This being said, I want to remind you to take the time this year to cheer for your fellow students!”

Principal Kerr continues to drone on about all of the different sports on campus, and my eyes widen at the realization there are so many students who attend this school that can fill these teams. Looking around the gym, I realize there are hundreds of students.

And I’m the one chosen to be bullied. That’s adorable.

“Now, I don’t want to hear anyone say they don’t have time to attend school activities, so I’m making it mandatory,” he says, making me close my eyes in annoyance.

Is he trying to make my life extra difficult? It’s a miracle I made it to school today. Why would I want to cheer for any of the sports teams?

“Ugh,” a student with pretty tortoise shell glasses breathes. “Principal Kerr?”