Suggested Reading

by Dave Connis

  It seemed too coincidental to not have anything to do with the Unlib. Ashton hadn’t come back to class. A small part of me hoped the assembly would be about Jack. Maybe Mr. Walsh would ream everyone out for having pushed Jack into the dirt every day for three years, like I had.

  “Hey,” Ashton said, behind me.

  I turned around. Before he could say anything, I hugged him and broke down at the same time.

  “What happened?” I finally got out.

  “Too much to explain,” he said, and before I could ask anything else, LiQui was there with her StuCab, moving me out of the middle of the hall, where every Tom, Dick, and student was walking by a sobbing, wrong Clara.

  “I’m over,” I said finally. “It’s done.” I told everyone about how panicked I was when Ashton got pulled from class. I told them about my plan to quit the Unlib. And I wished so, so much I’d quit sooner. At my first hesitation.

  I didn’t finish my thoughts; I was interrupted by the screeching PA reminding me that there was an emergency assembly in the gym and that attendance was, I repeat, mandatory.

  “Guys, just . . . promise me that you’ll still hang out with me when I go to a new school? When you go to college?” I asked, wiping the tears from my eyes. “Promise me I won’t lose you.”

  Everything pushed against my nerves. It felt like, if even the slightest of breezes came, I’d tip.

  LiQui wrapped her arms around me. “Trouble goes everywhere,” LiQui said, “but so do I.”

  Ashton nodded. “We.”

  “We’re here,” LiQui said, hand on my shoulder. “Sometimes we’ll be there, anywhere, or everywhere, but even then we’ll be here.”

  I nodded.

  “You got this, Clara,” Scott said. “You’re the most badass book chick I know.”

  I wiped a tear. “You don’t know any other book chicks. Besides, I don’t know if I want to be a book chick anymore.”

  “That’s fine,” LiQui said. “Let the Mav take over.”

  We all laughed, me again while wiping my eyes. And then, holding LiQui’s hand, with Ashton’s arm wrapped around my shoulders, I walked toward my future.

  That’s My Quote

  I found bravery here.

  —Resi Alistair, on white cover BB

  Mr. Walsh stood in the center of the half-court circle, hands held behind his back. There was not a single fidget or twitch to be found. All his frustrating quirky congeniality had been drained desert dry. He looked like I’d always thought he should look. Mad. Aggressive. It was the true Mr. Walsh. Not the fake one we’d always seen wandering the halls.

  He held a white cover under his arm.

  The bleachers had been pulled from the walls, offering their hard edges as seats. Because of my crying fest, we were some of the last kids to walk in, and because we were some of the last, we had to sit in the second row. Practically eye level with Mr. Walsh.

  A crew flanked me. Ashton on one side, LiQui and the StuCab on the other. Then, as the last of the students filed in, Resi came over from her spot and sat behind me. Then the Mav. Taking the first row. Sitting in front of me. His mass blocking me, mostly, from the eyes of Mr. Walsh. I looked around, surrounded by people I’d never thought would surround me. Confused as to why anyone but LiQui was there.

  The last student took her seat, and Principal Walsh started to speak.

  “As you know, a certain discipline must be maintained in a school.” He paused for a second, as if he was taken aback by his own words. “It has come to my attention that there is a group of books circulating the school that look like this.” He held up the book for all to see. I wasn’t sure who in the crowd would or wouldn’t recognize it. I’d given out so many over the past weeks it was hard to know who’d been a patron and who hadn’t.

  “If you’re not aware,” he said, “these books are on the list of prohibited media, which is stated in the student handbook.”

  No one said anything about the fact that there wasn’t a list in the student handbook. LiQui was right. Either no one read it—most likely—or no one noticed.

  Principal Walsh continued. “Having prohibited media is unacceptable and will be punished. We must know the importance of adhering to this rule, so I’m increasing the punishment until we can all remember that it isn’t funny, nor is it prudent, or best for the well-being of the student body, to break the rules, especially with prohibited media.” He held it up. “I’ve already suspended one student, and I am prepared to suspend more.”

  Ashton.

  He’d been suspended because of me. I’d tipped Jack over the edge. The amount of damage I’d done, that books had done, was already too costly. I turned to Ashton. He hadn’t told me. He caught my eye and waved me off. How could he be so blasé?

  “After the end of classes, on your way out of school, we will be checking your person for any prohibited media, and anyone caught with one of these books will be immediately suspended. However, I will give you a simple warning if you turn them in between the end of this assembly and the end of the school day. It’s your choice. Another thing. There is a quote written on this book: ‘I found bravery here.’ I’d like to say to the person who wrote this: You are in danger of falling down a slippery slope. There are reasons these books are prohibited. You should reconsider your judgments and ask yourself if you’ve really considered what is appropriate for consumption.

  “Now, I’d like to offer one more thing. If the person, or persons, responsible for these books steps forward, they will save their classmates the trouble of suspension, and I’ll reverse any suspensions I’ve hitherto dealt. To that person I say: It is your choice. If you truly care about your community and their well-being, you’ll take responsibility for your actions.”

  Some girl raised her hand. “Isn’t banning books wrong?”

  “Prohibiting media is well within the reaches of private-school policy. Your administration has decided what is most conducive to your formation and growth as a student, and your job is to trust and honor the policies we’ve set into place.”

  I wanted to cry right there. I wanted to run away. I had to turn myself in. Ashton had been suspended. It didn’t matter to me if anyone else got suspended. Ashton didn’t deserve it. Not in his senior year. After being a friend to Jack.

  “Any other questions?” he asked, glancing over the student body. “Then that is all,” Mr. Walsh said. “I trust many of you will do the right thing. Now, please go to your classes and sit and wait. Faculty and staff, please stay here for a few moments. We’ll need to discuss logistics for the end of the day.”

  Would I miss enough school that I’d have to repeat my senior year? Would I have to watch LiQui graduate and go to college without me? Would I lose the Founders Scholarship? Would I even go to college?

  It didn’t matter. I needed to turn myself in. I was wrong. I knew that. I was wrong.

  I stood, ready to walk down to him, when the Mav pushed me back, then stood. “Principal Walsh, that’s my quote on the book. Not only that, I started this.”

  Principal Walsh looked at him, confused, not willing to write him off, but also in disbelief. No. This isn’t how it’d go. The Mav wasn’t going to take the fall for my stupidity.

  “No,” I said. “It wasn’t him. I wrote that quote. I started this. I’ve bee—”

  Before I finished, Ashton stood. “That’s my quote. I started this.”

  I looked at him, almost feeling betrayed. Why would he do that? He was already in trouble. In fact, he didn’t even need to be at this assembly. He was suspended. He didn’t need to be in more trouble. Why would he be so stupid as to throw himself into a fray he had no place in? This was my problem.

  I opened my mouth to stop it, but then LiQui stood, interrupting me. “That’s my quote. I did this. I started it.”

  Resi stood.

  The StuCab stood.

  Then someone on the opposite side of the bleachers stood. Someone I didn’t know. “That’s my quote.”

  Sudden
ly, student after student stood, faces I somewhat recognized, some I didn’t, all saying that it was their quote, a statement that seemed to take on the meaning It was me.

  It wasn’t like one of those movies where the whole room stood, but it felt like it. In truth, it was a smattering of students. Probably forty or so out of our class of five hundred. All my friends, a bunch of patrons I recognized but didn’t know, and all twelve of my classmates from Honors Lit.

  In contrast, those who stood seemed swallowed by those who didn’t, but with each new student taking credit for the Unlib, Principal Walsh got more and more frustrated, his path forward growing muddier and muddier with red tape and time.

  What I didn’t understand was, what were those who weren’t my friends standing for?

  Finally no one else stood up, and the gym was silent for an awkward half minute. One of the star-stars I didn’t know raised his hand. “So . . . does that mean the rest of us are free to go?”

  The gym echoed in laughter, breaking the intensity of the moment.

  But the star-star was right.

  The ones who’d stood had turned ourselves in.

  Sighing, Mr. Walsh pointed at everyone who stood up. “Those of you who stood must speak to my assistant and set up a meeting with me before you leave today.” As the gym started to break into a clatter of talking and squeaking feet, he stormed out of the gym, his walking frantic.

  I looked at everyone who’d stood.

  Then I cried.

  Mad. Confused. Happy.

  Not alone.

  And Your Hero Goes Home Early

  We loaded books into a mine cart. Tossing them without care. Armies and their weapons in front of our cave. There was no time for care. “Levi, go ahead and push this one ahead,” I said. He strained against the cart. It moved slowly. A screechy metallic whine echoing through the cave. He flashed me a smile. One that said, we’re doing this, but then a black Westland coat appeared on the tracks, and Levi was looking at me, smiling, when a bullet lodged in his heart.

  —Lukas Gebhardt, Don’t Tread on Me

  Right after the assembly, instead of going to class, I went straight to Mr. Walsh’s assistant to set up the meeting, and then I left. I was completely drained of any ability to stand on my own two feet. I didn’t want to see the line of kids dropping off the white covers at the end of the day, turning them in, wondering on each handover if my name was going to come up. I didn’t want to see the blockade at the front of the door. I didn’t want to see all the people who’d stood up for me.

  So I ran. I left the Unlib to be torn apart.

  So unlike Levi and Joss.

  I ran up to my room, the house silent, Mom and Dad both at work, not knowing that their daughter had wasted their time and money by getting expelled her senior year and throwing away her shot at an amazing scholarship in the process. I lay on my bed. What did it mean that a group of us had turned ourselves in? Would I even be able to take credit for the Unlib? Should I? Would Ashton still be suspended? Maybe it didn’t matter that everyone had stood. Principal Walsh would figure it out. It was a matter of time. People borrowed books from me, no one else. Someone would spill that eventually.

  The First Group Text

  Ashton [8:22 PM] C, did you leave?

  I found out Jack has some visiting hours open tomorrow.

  Would you be up for going with me?

  Also, is it okay that I’m texting LiQui?

  Me [8:22 PM] I can’t go. It’s the Founders Scholarship Dinner

  Can we do the next day?

  Also, yes I left, I took a nap

  LiQui [8:23 PM] Yeah, Ashton. I’ll go. I’m good with whenever

  Also, Clara, probably a good call, TBH

  Need to Mojo?

  Me [8:23 PM] idk

  Ashton [8:23 PM] Yes. I need Mojo even if Clara doesn’t.

  Sunday has the same visiting hours, so let’s do that.

  Hey, LiQui . . . did I or did I not see you making out with the Mav by the water fountains after the assembly?

  Me [8:23 PM] What

  LiQui [8:23 PM] Ashton, WTF

  Ashton [8:24 PM] Oh, whoops. Sorry. I thought . . . like . . . I don’t know what I thought. Bad way to start our first group text.

  Me [8:24 PM] What.

  LiQui [8:24 PM] YOU DON’T JUST SAY THAT SORT OF SHIT ON A GROUP MESSAGE

  Me [8:24 PM] It was the Mav standing up for me in the assembly. Wasn’t it?

  LiQui [8:24 PM] Literally the hottest thing he’s ever done and he has a six pack and plays football.

  Ashton [8:24 PM] Mojo in 30?

  LiQui [8:24 PM] You’re paying. Make up for that junk you just pulled.

  Ashton [8:24 PM] Okay, that’s fair.

  Me [8:24 PM] Okay.

  Mojovation (Part Two)

  But it’s the truth even if it didn’t happen.

  —Ken Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

  On the table was a purple Mojo plate with a massive bowl of queso.

  Despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile.

  I grabbed a chip, doused it, then laid it on my tongue. Trying to let the melty cheesiness melt away my problems. I turned to LiQui. “So you’re back together with the Mav?”

  “Hey,” she said, putting a hand up. “If you’re feeling sass, let it pass.”

  “No sass. Are you?”

  LiQui frowned, obviously still feeling a little defensive. “Yes—I mean, no. Not really, but look, we’re not here to talk about the Mav, so chill.”

  “Chill?” I snapped. “Chill? I was up at two a.m. last night because I gave a book to Jack that made him decide to kill himself. I got Ashton suspended, and despite everyone’s heroics, I’m practically waiting to be expelled. When I am, I lose my scholarship, I lose everything, and you want me to chill? God, why didn’t you make me stop? Why did you let me go through with it? It wasn’t worth it.”

  No one said anything for a while; then LiQui said, “That’s not fair, and pretty self-righteous, Clara.”

  “What do you mean, that’s not fair? You’re not—”

  “The Unlib was just as much ours as it was yours,” she said. “We supported you. Fought with you, for you, so much that the ‘you’ turned into ‘us.’ All that research I did in contract law, trying to find loopholes that would let us fight the banned list? All the brainstorming? That was my choice. Not only that, but you got me planning on standing up to my grandparents. You got the Mav wanting to get back together because he read Eleanor and Park. You’ve got Ashton here. Like right here. A friend who you’ve obviously helped, otherwise he wouldn’t be here. Scott told me the other day he hasn’t stopped reading since I gave him Perks. The dominoes, girl. Have you looked at the dominoes? And who knows what other things have happened that we don’t even know about?”

  “I know Resi’s changed because of it,” Ashton added. “And Jack was happy that night. The night at the football game. I know he was. I hadn’t seen him laugh in a long time.”

  LiQui continued. “You can’t know what else has happened because of the Unlib. So before you go telling us that it wasn’t worth it, why don’t you actually look around? Sure, some things haven’t turned out great, but we’ve all made the choices we’ve made because we made them. You didn’t force Ashton to check out a book and therefore get caught. To think you’re responsible for all the damage is pretty insulting to the rest of us. Especially Jack. You’re literally chalking what he did up to you, completely ignoring whatever else he was going through.”

  LiQui looked at me with a face that told me to step up and challenge her. She was ready for a fight. But it wasn’t that what she said didn’t make sense to me; it just seemed inconsequential. Jack had tried to kill himself because of what he got from a book. Was that not terrifying to anyone else? Did no one else see how not in control we were of books and what they did to people?

  Ashton raised his hand. “Can I add something?”

  LiQui waved a hand at me. I nodded.


  “I’m not, like, a book guy, but isn’t the point of all this book stuff like what Ms. Croft was teaching us—that unrestricted access to books allows us to be challenged and changed? To learn new things and to critically think about those things and not be afraid of them? To be better than we were before we read them?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure anymore, and that settled around me like a crash-landing spaceship and the dust of a villain’s retreat. We could talk about romantic ideas of books all we wanted, but that didn’t explain the friend in the hospital. Nothing did. Jack hadn’t been thinking critically. He hadn’t had the space to think critically. So . . . like, maybe calling a book “inappropriate” for someone to read was a right thing.

  I didn’t know.

  And not knowing shook me down to my bone marrow.

  A Not-Fancy Email for Clara

  Part A: The Email

  To: clara.evans@luptonacademy.edu

  From: m.walsh@luptonacademy.edu

  Subject: IMPORTANT: Monday Morning

  Ms. Evans,

  Just a reminder that I’ll see you at my office first thing Monday morning. This time, I’ll leave it to you to speak to your parents about this matter.

  Principal Walsh

  Part B: My Subsequent Reaction

  To: m.walsh@luptonacademy.edu

  From: clara.evans@luptonacademy.edu

  Subject: RE: IMPORTANT: Monday Morning

  OK.

  The Dreary-Wearies

  There are things you can’t back down on, things you gotta take a stand on. But it’s up to you to decide what them things are.

  —Mildred D. Taylor, Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry

  I couldn’t sleep.