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“And likeIsaid, that’s easy for you to say.”
At least Larry and Megan weretryingto be funny. They didn’t succeed, but maybe they were just having fun. Same goes for the two girls behind me in the line for the metal detector. One of them calls meOfficerCross. The other one says with a laugh, “Where’s your police uniform, Ali? I love a man in uniform.”
But not everyone is trying to work funny. One guy whom I don’t even know follows me into the bathroom. He watches me while I use the facilities. When I go to wash my hands, the guy parks at the sink next to me, standing too close and watching me with way too much interest.
His face is mean. He spits into the sink and speaks to me in a squeaky-weird voice that scares the hell out of me.
“You’d better watch yourself, cop kid,” he says. He spits again, and he sure doesn’t rinse out the porcelain sink before he leaves.
In my first class, math (already not my favorite start to the day), some kids act friendly. They send a small smile or a brief nod in my direction. Cedric passes my desk and says, “Stay cool.” I nod. Then he adds, “Talk later.”
Class starts. Mr. Gates, a guy who doesn’t look much older than some of the kids in the class, is determined to get us to understand cube roots and square roots. I pretty much already understand those two math concepts, and that’s good because my mind is not on what Mr. Gates is saying.
My mind is on me and this whole ugly situation.
Okay. I’m feeling sort of sorry for myself. But why not? Hey, I’m thinking I have every right to feel the way I feel. I’ve been pushed around before because my father is on the force. I even had to hang out with a girl because her mother was a decorated police officer. But it wasn’t much of a friendship. That girl and I had nothing to talk about except what a pain it could be to have a police officer for a parent.
I get through math class without being called on, and I start looking for Cedric on my way out of the classroom.
But this is only forty-five minutes into my school day. Out in the hallway somebody bumps into me. It’s a hard bump. I lose my balance, but I catch myself, and I don’t fall. It’s not unusual for this kind of bump to happen in the chaos of changing classes. But because of my current unpopularity, I’m feeling that this bump may not have been particularly “accidental.” I look behind me and see that the guy who knocked into me is Darius Dorsey—a funny guy, a pretty nice guy, and also… well, a pretty big guy.
“Hey, D. You got to watch your driving,” I say. I try to be light and friendly about it.
“And you got to watchyourself, Cross,” Darius says. He’s not smiling. He looks serious. Not scary. More like grim. He keeps talking.
“You and I are good with each other, right?” he says.
“Yeah, sure,” I say.
“Then, here’s a little intel I got for you. I suggest you pay attention.”
“Yeah, give it to me,” I say. I’m only a little nervous.
“Some kids in this school are saying that you’re against your own kind of people. That cops come first, and your people come second.”
I’m not happy. But I’m not quite angry yet.
“Darius, tell me something I don’t already know. That’s what some fools think. I’m on everybody’s side. And I’m on nobody’s side.”
“I know that, but not everyone else knows that. They say because your dad is a detective that you betray your people, that you…”
I cut him off.
“I know what people say, Darius. I’ve got to go.”
“Just trying to help. Take care of yourself.Andthink about standing up with your people.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” I start walking away. I’ve already decided that I’m going to be late for my next class. In fact, I’m actually going to skip it, which is pretty radical for me. Okay, the class is Spanish, so it won’t bethatradical. I can catch up with an online lesson. I’ve got to sit still for a few minutes and get my brain together.
I’m not angry. I’m not scared. But what the hell am I feeling?
The warning buzzer rings for the next period.Adios, Spanish class.
Then it hits me. I know what I’m feeling.
I’m alone. I’m just caught in this whole big thing—the policeman’s son versus the police versus everyone else and their opinions—alone.
I try thinking through it, but I don’t even have the energy to do that.
