by K. A. Holt
because Ms. J and Mr. Mann
are talking really loudly.
When Ms. J shouts,
Well, I have zero tolerance for your whole attitude!
and then
Well, I think YOU should be suspended!
and then
What has HAPPENED to you, Malcolm?
and then
No, I think YOU have gone to the Dark Side!
and then
GET READY FOR A FORMAL HARASSMENT
COMPLAINT!
Ace and I decide
we should definitely
blast right out
of the front office
and definitely
set a course
leading us directly
to the safety
of the library.
THE LIBRARY
We run in,
shut the door behind us,
walk past the Planet Safe Space poster,
where someone has helpfully added
a drawing of a big bald head
just ahead of where my rocket is facing,
which I guess is supposed to be
MY own special planet
and har-har hilarious.
Not.
Ace takes the marker,
writes ACE on a rocket,
rips it off,
sticks it back on,
pointing the same direction as mine,
toward Planet Giant Head.
That’s better.
Ace’s hand goes up:
High-five!
High-five,
I say,
with a smidge of a smile.
Ms. J bursts into the library,
eyes flashing,
mouth set in a line.
She walks past us,
past the Planet Safe Space wall,
stops,
backs up,
looks at the Planet Giant Head graffiti,
at Ace’s rocket,
at mine,
takes a step back,
then hurls herself at the wall,
tearing the poster off
in giant ripping chunks.
When she’s done,
Ms. J faces us,
out of breath,
steaming mad.
So neither of you goes to class anymore?
Is that it?
Divergence is one thing,
but don’t be divergent delinquents.
Ms. J’s face softens.
Sorry.
No one is a delinquent.
I’m . . . angry right now.
About a lot of things.
I shouldn’t take it out on you.
Even if you should be in class.
She pauses.
Is she waiting for something?
GO TO CLASS!
she yells at us.
Shoo! Get out of here!
I’ll see you later at Newspaper Typing Club!
We walk fast
past the piles
and shreds
and pieces
of ripped rockets
and torn paper planets
and I hope Ms. J
has someone
checking in on her.
She might need
a teacher time-out
or some forest-bathing,
or something.
NEWSPAPER TYPING CLUB
Uh, Ms. J, Ben Y told us you ripped down that whole giant poster like you were some kind of angry wild animal who hates posters and no offense but are teachers even allowed to get mad and rip stuff off of walls like that? Do teachers have consequences? You might get some consequences.
Jordan seems genuinely worried.
Ms. J rubs her hand
straight down her face
like a mime
changing from a smile
to a frown
only her face stays
in a grouchy wrinkle.
I appreciate your concern, Jordan,
but at this point,
I’ve lost track
of all the consequences
everyone at this school
including me
should face.
She takes a deep breath.
Jordan breathes deep with her.
I don’t even know
if he knows
he’s doing it.
So.
How are your articles going?
Did anyone remember the deadline?
Which is today?
Ben B shuffles his feet,
Javier looks at the ceiling,
Jordan’s uh-oh face
shows all his teeth.
I don’t know what my face does,
and Ace says,
Here you go,
handing over at least three pages,
in a clear plastic folder.
When we all stare at Ace,
and no one says anything,
Ace’s cheeks turn pink.
What?
We had a deadline.
Who ignores a deadline?!
Ms. J finds her voice first.
Well, thank you, Ace.
What a surprise and delight.
The rest of you . . .
twenty minutes.
Final drafts.
On my desk.
Twenty minutes?
Final drafts?
We glance at each other,
wondering who will save us now,
when the lights in the library blink off
then back on
then off
then on.
Mr. Mann is standing in the doorway.
He has campus police with him.
Shiitake mushrooms,
Ms. J breathes.
THIS is what it’s come to?
Everything in my guts
liquifies,
rising in a giant wave
of sloshing . . .
shiitake mushrooms.
Are the police here
for me?
For Ace?
For us?
Because of our clothes?
Because of the Unauthorized Hart Times?
Because we are literally against district policy?
Mr. Mann
and the police
advance
into the library
as Ace
takes big steps
backward,
and my feet
are frozen,
trapped
in this one spot.
Mr. Mann
breezes past us, though;
the campus police
breeze past, too,
and
and
and
what in the world?
HART MIDDLE SCHOOL MAIN HALLWAY
It’s just a suspension!
she yells over her shoulder,
her caftan whipping and billowing
like a flag just before a storm.
With pay!
She throws a thumbs-up at us
and a big smile,
even though
there’s a campus police officer
on either side of her
escorting her
down the hall.
Don’t worry about me!
She flings her head
over her other shoulder
as campus police hurry her
to the door.
She’s outside now,
the electronic doors closing slowly
while she yells one more thing:
Obviously Newspaper Typing Club is canceled today!
We’ll reschedule the deadline!
Javier, Jordan, Ben B, Ace, and I
stand in the main hallway
watching the doors lock tight
as our mouths hang open wide.
Out on the sidewalk
in front of the bus loop,
Ms. J says something
none of us can hear,
and Mr. M
ann’s
arms fly around
like he’s being attacked
by killer bees.
We all watch everything
through the big glass doors,
like we’re all Jordans
and it’s the season finale
of Fierce Across America.
Out of nowhere,
Ace turns
and bolts down the hall,
out of sight.
Jordan shakes his head,
sighing like a teacher
or a mom.
See. I told you Ace isn’t part of the team. I could tell from the very beginning. Because I could tell Ace was trying to steal you away from me and be your new best friend and I didn’t like that at all and I mean, I guess it was nice that Ace tried to help you not get in trouble, Ben Y, and if I think about THAT, then I think maybe Ace is probably nicer than I thought, but mostly—Oh.
Ace is back,
breathless,
Ms. J’s purse in hand.
Figured she might need
her car keys,
you know?
Ace runs to the big glass doors,
holds up the purse,
shakes it back and forth,
smiles,
then mimes driving.
A campus police lady nods,
comes inside,
takes the purse,
says,
Thank you.
Ms. J gives Ace a thumbs-up
as she slings her purse
over her shoulder.
Ace does this thing in response,
a quick touch,
hand to chin,
then hand forward
then back down again.
Ms. J’s eyebrows go up,
surprised,
as she smiles
and returns the
hand-chin response.
As Mr. Mann turns,
ready to come back inside,
none of us need to say anything
to know one thing:
We’re not sticking around
to hear what HE has to say.
Ben B, Jordan, Javier,
Ace, me,
we run fast,
laughing,
sliding around corners,
racing to the stairwell,
and out the emergency door
that we all know
(except Ace,
who pre-winces)
has a broken alarm.
The air is hot,
thick with storms
boiling in the sky
as we run run run.
But even in the heat,
even with thunder rumbling
and lightning flashing in the distance,
it feels so good
to break free
from school,
from Mr. Mann,
from the hallways
from everything.
I hope Ms. J is right
and she’s not in big trouble.
I hope maybe
she has a chance
to feel free
(at least for a minute)
while she also
escapes
Mr. Mann
and school.
I could run forever,
with my friends by my side,
and I wonder
if this is how Benicio felt
when he packed his car,
and left for California
with Paul and Juanita
and a Sandbox dream.
We’re all still running
and it starts to rain
and those big splats,
those splashing drops,
that cold water
making me gasp
as it drips
off my nose . . .
it makes me laugh
and laugh
and laugh
until I’m so out of breath
my laughs turn to
wheezing gasps
just letting it
alllllllllll
out.
Come on!
Ace motions
and we all follow,
climbing on the 315,
not knowing exactly
where we’re going,
even though
we somehow
do know
(without anyone
saying a word)
that it doesn’t matter . . .
not right now,
because the most important thing
is that we know
wherever we find ourselves,
we’ll all be there . . .
together.
Jordan squeezes my shoulder
as I take a big deep breath
that turns into a big wide smile,
and I fall into a seat,
head pressed
against
the steamy window
feeling free
free
free
as everything
behind me,
behind us,
shrinks,
and the 315
picks up speed.
< NEWSPAPER TYPING CLUB CHAT >
ACE’S HOUSE
BenBee: but do you think she’ll find it?
0BenwhY: for the millionth time, yes!!
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: but why would she even go to the sandbox library if we aren’t in Newspaper Typing Club?
0BenwhY: because she knows we’re worried about her, silly. She’s going to look for us.
jajajavier:): do you think she plays sandbox at home? without us?
BenBee: of course she does! who wouldn’t?
0BenwhY: well, if she logs onto the Newspaper Typing Club server, she’ll see my note.
0BenwhY: i spelled it into the grass. she can’t miss it.
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: these cookies are super yummy, Ace.
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: how do I say thank you, again? touch my chin and then—
BenBee: you know we aren’t in Typing Club, Jordan. You can actually talk instead of only chatting.
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: I KNOW.
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: well, I kind of forgot. but whatever. your grandma is AWESOME, Ace.
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: your house is awesome, too. it feels very comfortable and squishy.
JJ11347 ENTERS GAME
0BenwhY: She’s here!! Yay! See? I knew she’d find it! Are you ok ms j???
BenBee: Ms. J! Are you ok??? What happened?
jajajavier:): What happened?
PlanetSafeAce: What’s going on?
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: Are you getting fired? Please nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! You get suspended more than we do! akjflhkgfdl
CHAT INFRACTION
JJ11347: Calm down, calm down, everyone.
JJ11347: Thank you for worrying about me, but I am absolutely fine.
JJ11347: Not only am I fine, but I’m feeling very zen right now.
JJ11347: I can’t really talk about specifics, but my job is safe.
JJ11347: It was quite a jaunt to get here, by the way. This is a lovely safe space, but not easy to find.
0BenwhY: My brother made this cabin a long time ago. It’s not easy to find because it was supposed to be a secret place where secrets are safe.
0BenwhY: I thought it might be nice to finally share it with other people though
0BenwhY: kind of like a Sandbox safe space?
JJ11347: It’s so comforting, yet energetic.
JJ11347: I really love the varying designs and colors.
JJ11347: It’s fabulous work.
jajajavier:): check out THIS fabulous work!
JJ11347: Do we really classify blowing up a chicken as *fabulous*?
jajajavier:): better?
JJ11347: Yes, everything is better with a confetti cannon.
0BenwhY: and everything is better with you here, Ms. J
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: Teacher’s pet!!!!!!
&nb
sp; BenBee: anyone see some marble? we should make a statue of Ms. J
PlanetSafeAce: the queen of taking one for the team!
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: that reminds me . . . i’m sorry i said that thing, Ace, about not being part of our team. I was jeal—
CHAT INFRACTION
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!!: and that was mean of me. Sorry. You ARE part of the team, and there is definitely enough Ben Y for ever—
CHAT INFRACTION
JORDANJMAGEDDON!!!! HAS BEEN EJECTED FROM GAME
THIRTY MINUTE RESPAWN COUNTDOWN BEGINS NOW
0BenwhY: no marble, Ben B, but i do have a test potion that will turn Ms. J into a statue.
BenBee:
JJ11347: Ha ha. Hilarious.
JJ11347: Thank you for inviting me here, and I hate to chat and run, but
JJ11347:
JJ11347: I’ll see you all *next* Monday.
JJ11347: Stay out of trouble!
0BenwhY: YOU stay out of trouble!
JJ11347: No promises.
JJ11347 HAS EXITED GAME
As a child, K.A. Holt rushed through classwork
so she could play The Oregon Trail.
She died of dysentery, a lot.
As an adult, she rushes through deadlines
so she can play Among Us.
She gets tossed out the airlock, a lot.
K.A. Holt lives in Austin, Texas, with her wife and three kids.
She is bad at video games, but good at writing books.
Most of the time.