by Paul Langan
“You never smile anymore, mijo,” she said then. “I hardly remember what your smile looks like. ”
“You neither, Ma. ”
She nodded and wiped her eyes.
“You’re right,” she said, putting her hand on my arm. “When you and Huero were babies, I swore I was going to give you both a better life than the one I had. Nothing was more important. Now . . . ” she paused, tears slipping down her face. “I just think I failed you. Failed my two babies. ”
I couldn’t stand to hear her blame herself for my mistakes.
“It’s not your fault, Ma,” I said, forcing myself to look into her weary eyes. “You weren’t on the street with Huero that day,” I said, feeling the sorrow in my chest. The guilt. “He was with me. ”
“No. Don’t do that, mijo. I see you walking around with the weight of the world on your shoulders, blaming yourself. You’re not a parent. It’s not your job to keep your kids safe. That’s a mother’s job,” she said.
I don’t care what she said. I knew more than she did about what really happened to Huero, how I could have prevented everything.
I hugged her then because I didn’t know what else to do. She held me and cried, each tear burning my insides hotter than any fire.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you last night, mijo,” she said finally. “I know you are missing Huero too. It’s just that I get so worried. ”
“It’s okay, Ma,” I said. I felt so bad for her. She had no idea about Frankie’s visit or the trouble that was brewing. And I didn’t have the heart to tell her.
“Martin, listen to me. I know I yell at you a lot, but there’s a reason for it. It’s because I love you. No matter what you think you did or what you blame yourself for, know that I love you. There is nothing more important in this world to me than you. ”
I felt the tears in my own eyes then. Tears of sorrow and guilt. Tears of fear and worry.
“I love you too, Ma,” I said. “No matter what happens. ”
She hugged me again, though I could see the concern on her face. Something about my words unsettled her. It almost felt like a goodbye.
Maybe it was.
Three hours later, I was walking to Bluford. I hadn’t slept after the talk with my mother, and I couldn’t stand laying in my bed and staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with images I wished I’d never seen.
César crumpled on the ground.
Huero bleeding in my arms.
Frankie’s smirk.
I was so out of it when my alarm went off that I left home without a shower, without looking at the clothes I wore, without even grabbing my books. I just had to get out.
On the street, I followed a group of kids making their way to school. I could hear them talking about their classes, worrying about their grades, their homework assignments.
I know it ain’t right, but I felt like slapping them because they were happy. Because they didn’t look in the mirror each morning and hate what they saw. Because they could sleep at night knowing they hadn’t destroyed their family. If I was Frankie, I would have done it.
At my locker, I was surprised to see Teresa standing there waiting for me. Her lips were tight, and she looked like she was being forced to do something she hated.
“Aren’t you at the wrong locker?” I said to her.
Teresa sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what Vicky sees in you. But I’m here ’cause she’s my girl,” Teresa said. “She’s done nothin’ but stick up for you since you got here, and you went and hurt her yesterday. That ain’t right. ”
I cringed inside at her words. I knew I deserved the mean look she gave me, and I respected her for having the guts to stand up for her friend. She was right. Vicky did deserve better. That’s why I pushed her away.
“I told her what she needed to hear,” I said.
“No, you didn’t. You were a coward who didn’t even tell her anything. You need to step up and end it with her, so she stops worrying that there’s something wrong with you. Just tell her it’s over and show her what a jerk you are so she can move on. ”
I hated Teresa’s voice, her attitude. The look in her eyes that told me she thought I was beneath her. But there was truth in her words that stung me. Coward. Maybe I was afraid of being honest with Vicky. Afraid of what she’d really think if she knew what I was about. But even if it was true, it was none of Teresa’s business.
“Girl, get outta my face. You don’t know nothin’ about me,” I said reaching into my locker and grabbing my copy of Hamlet.
“I know you’re the worst thing that happened to her. That’s all I need to know,” Teresa cut back.
I slammed my locker shut and headed down the hallway. I was supposed to go to biology, but I couldn’t stand the idea of sitting in the class and talking about plant cells. What’s the point of that?
Instead, I snuck into a far corner of the library behind the magazine racks and the computer tables. Another student bundled in a thick black jacket was asleep at a work table. I ignored him, grabbed a chair, and cut my next three classes.
During the time I cut biology, homeroom, and U. S. history, I read Hamlet and learned how he goes nuts planning revenge on his dad’s killer, and then starts talking to himself and snapping at everyone around him. He even chases away the sad girl that likes him. I swear, it was like the play was talking about me.
I read so much, I decided to go to English class. As soon as Mr. Mitchell walked in, he announced a pop quiz.
“I hope everyone read the first act of Hamlet for homework,” he said as he passed the quizzes out.
“Come on, Mr. Mitchell,” Roylin complained. “Why you always gotsta do this to us?”
“If you know he always does it, it shouldn’t be a surprise to you,” Steve said. “Even Martin can figure that one out. ”
“Enough,” Mr. Mitchell said. “No more talking until the quizzes are done. ”
Vicky turned and handed the quiz back to me. Our eyes met for a second. I wanted to talk to her, to explain, but I couldn’t say anything. Not with Mr. Mitchell watching us.
The Hamlet quiz was easy. For the first time I could remember, I had no problem identifying who everyone was and what happened in the first act. In fact, I was the second person to finish the quiz.
“You okay, Martin?” Mr. Mitchell asked when I handed my paper in. “You sure you don’t want to look over it again?”
A few kids snickered, like they couldn’t believe someone like me could get the right answers. I looked back to see who was laughing, but no one met my gaze.
During the rest of class, I stared at the back of Vicky’s head and tried to listen to Mr. Mitchell’s talk about how guilt destroys Hamlet. But all I kept thinking about what was coming, what I still had to face.
Before class ended, I scribbled a note just in case.
Dear Vicky,
You’re right to be angry at me. Right to think I’m a jerk.
I’m dealing with a lot right now, and I’m not sure how it’s all going to turn out.
I didn’t want to drag you into all my problems, so I thought the best thing I could do was push you away. I never meant to hurt you. Our walk in the park was the best day I had since I came here. Your smile kept me going.
Martin
P. S. —Teresa may be a jerk, but she’s got your back. If you see Eric, tell him I’m sorry.
I folded the note, and dropped it on Vicky’s desk without a word. It was the last thing I wrote in Mr. Mitchell’s class.
Just a few hours later, my time at Bluford ended.
Chapter 8
“Get off!”
I could barely make out the words over the noise of showers spraying and locker doors slamming. It was the end of gym class, and I was emptying out my locker when the voice spoke out from the back of the room.
“Let go of me!”
This time I knew who it was. Eric. Then I heard people laughing and a low thud.
I rushed out into the aisle
that divided the locker room. Our gym teacher, Mr. Dooling, was on the far end talking to a couple of football players. I could tell they were trying to distract him.
The air was a soupy mixture of steam, sweat, and deodorant. It was the last class on Friday. Most students were rushing to get changed and go home, but a few stood nearby looking toward the back of the locker room. No one moved closer, though.
Cowards. I cursed under my breath.
I knew whose lockers were there. It was where I’d fought Steve after his boys jumped me. I dropped my gym clothes and headed straight back. I could hear voices growing louder as I got closer.
“I told you to keep your mouth shut, Eric. Next time you want to be a hero and step up for your boy Martin, you better think twice. ’Cause if you ever rat us out to Ms. Spencer again, it’ll be the last thing you do. You hear me?” I recognized the voice. It was Steve’s friend Clarence, a linebacker on Bluford’s football team, whose neck was as thick as a tire.
I stepped into the corridor and found Eric doubled over. Two guys had his arms hooked behind his back, the same two guys who had grabbed me from behind last week. Clarence was in front of them, and I watched his big dumb fist fly into Eric’s stomach. Steve was on the other side of them, looking down on Eric, who coughed and slumped to his knees. I could see tears in his eyes as he looked around desperately for help.
“I got kicked out of this week’s game because of what you said to Ms. Spencer. You better hope this doesn’t affect my scholarship chances, or you won’t walk again,” Steve hissed, spitting on the ground.
That’s when I snapped.
Steve’s threat and the sight of Eric slumped over sent me flying out of control like a train off its track. I slammed my fist like a hammer into Clarence’s chin. Steve gaped in surprise when I turned and jabbed his nose, knocking him backward into the wall of lockers. The two punks holding Eric let go and stepped back, eying me like I was a dog ready to tear into them.
“Fight!” someone screamed.
Clarence came at me then, and I started swinging, cursing, kicking. Everything seemed to go by in slow motion, but I kept thrashing even after the teachers arrived.
I couldn’t explain why I swung at every arm that tried to pull me away. Why I was unable to calm down as they yanked me out of the locker room. Why I shoved poor Mr. Dooling against a wall when he tried to break my grip of Clarence’s neck, or why I fought the three security guards who raced into the locker room and wrestled me to the ground.
Everyone—teachers, students, guards, even the janitors—stared at me like I was a monster with horns growing out of my head.
“Psycho,” Clarence said, rubbing his jaw as I left the locker room.
“You’re done, Sanchez,” Steve yelled with a cold smile on his face. “Outta here. Have fun in juvee. ”
“He’s lost it. That boy is nuts,” one guard mumbled as they dragged me down the hallway like I was some kind of criminal.
“Maybe he’s strung out on something,” another guard said.
I know it must have looked that way. I was trembling and shaking. My jaw locked shut, my pulse pounding, sweat dripping off my face.
There was no way I could tell them that seeing Eric on the ground reminded me of my brother. No way I could describe the whitehot rage that boiled in my chest at them. There were no excuses for what I did. But in that moment, there was no way to hold it back.
Almost 30 minutes later, I was in Ms. Spencer’s office, my head down on the same desk I sat in during my first suspension. My heart was still pounding, but the red haze in the air was disappearing like morning fog.
My eyes were wet and puffy. I must have been crying, and my hands were marked and swollen with cuts from the punches I’d thrown. My T-shirt was torn too.
Ms. Spencer came carrying a thick folder with my name on it. She sat down on the opposite side of the table from me. The lines in her forehead seemed even deeper than usual.
“I’m sorry I lost it, Ms. Spencer,” I spoke up first. What else could I say to her? It was the truth.
She opened the folder, leafed through some sheets and then looked at me. It seemed like a long time before she said anything. “I’m sorry too, Martin,” she replied.
Outside I could hear one of the secretaries talking to someone.
“A troublemaker like that doesn’t belong in this school. I wouldn’t want my child in class with a boy who behaves like that. Someone could have really gotten hurt today. ”
“I knew he was trouble the second he walked into this school. He was nothing but attitude from day one,” another woman replied.
I wanted to jump up and tell them off. What did they know about me? Nothing. Sure, it was wrong to lose it in school. But what about ganging up on another kid when no one is looking? Which was worse?
If you ask me, it seems most people don’t know what really goes on in school. And if they did, a lot more of the kids would be in trouble. Popular kids, not just the ones everyone thinks are troublemakers.
“Martin,” Ms. Spencer said, her voice heavy and slow. “You are in serious trouble for what happened today. ”
I nodded. At least she was being straight up with me. “I didn’t mean to push Mr. Dooling, Ms. Spencer,” I admitted right away. “I’m sorry I did that. It should have never gone that far. ”
“Well, it’s good to hear you say that. And I’ll be sure to mention it to Mr. Dooling, Martin. But what happened today is . . . there just isn’t much I can do for you. My hands are tied. ”
“What do you mean?”
She took her glasses off and stared at me. “Martin, you’ve been in this school for only two weeks. In that time, you’ve been suspended. You’ve cut class several times. You’ve been involved in multiple fights, and today, you struck a teacher. It took three guards to bring you here. I can’t have that behavior in my school. Parents, teachers, and my staff will not stand for it, and neither can I. ”
“I said I’m sorry. Look, I was standing up for Eric. They were hitting him. What was I supposed to do? Leave him by himself to get beat up? I couldn’t do that, Ms. Spencer. ”
She wrote some notes on a pink piece of paper. “This isn’t the street, Martin. It’s a school, and it has rules which you broke. I warned you last time about controlling yourself, and today you were worse than ever. I’ll look into what happened, but that does not change what you did today or what I must do now. ” Ms. Spencer dropped her pen, put the pink sheet into my folder and closed it quickly.
“What do you mean? What’s gonna happen?”
She took a deep breath and studied my face for several long seconds. It was like she was looking for something to make what she had to say easier. “I hate to have to do this, Martin. To you and your mother,” she began.
“What about my mother? What is it?”
“I’m afraid you are being expelled. ”
“Expelled? You mean you’re kicking me out?” I asked, surprised at how much her words hurt.
She nodded heavily. “I’m very sorry, Martin. ”
I slumped back in my seat. The office was quiet for several seconds.
“Martin—”
“No, forget it, Ms. Spencer. It’s all good,” I said, trying to pretend I didn’t care, but my voice was cracking. “I never belonged here anyway. Besides, I’m sick of you all gettin’ on my case all the time. At least now I won’t have to hear Steve anymore neither. ”
“Martin, listen to me,” Ms. Spencer urged, leaning forward toward me. “Every student who is expelled is given a hearing in front of Mr. Gates, the superintendent. Yours will be next week. Go to the hearing, and explain your side of the story. Maybe you can convince him to allow you to remain at Bluford. But for now, I have to follow school policy. There’s nothing more I can do. ”
If I got the news a month ago, I would have been happy. I never wanted to come to Bluford in the first place. But deep inside I could see it gave me a chance I didn’t have anywhere else. And then there was Mr. Mit
chell and those words.
Potential. Talent. Promising future.
Getting expelled was like saying there was no hope for me. That my place was on the corner with the other guys who were being gunned down and who were doing the shooting. Even though it wasn’t cool to say it, I started wanting more than that.
Too bad, Martin Luna. Now you’re going back where you belong, Ms. Spencer seemed to say.
She’s right, homes. Stop pretending you’re somebody else. School’s not your world. You belong with your family, Chago would say. But I’d burned that bridge, too. My world was collapsing. The end was coming.
“Yeah, I’ll talk to him, Ms. Spencer. I’m sure he’s gonna listen to what I have to say. Just like everyone else around here,” I said.
“Good luck, Martin,” Ms. Spencer said with a weak smile. She wiped her eyes quickly and stood up.
I rushed out the front doors of Bluford High School for the last time, trying my best to hide the burning in my eyes. The angry tears that dripped down my face because another door had just slammed in my face.
It felt like a kind of death sentence.
Chapter 9
“Expelled! ” my mother cried when she got home from work that night. I didn’t even try to defend myself ’cause I knew there was no point. She wasn’t going to listen to anything I had to say.
“I’m sorry, Ma. ”
“Sorry?” she yelled, her voice rising even higher, piercing my skull. “Is that all you have to say? That’s not good enough. Sorry doesn’t fix anything!”
“What do you want from me? I told you—”
“What do I want?” she repeated, cutting me off and moving right into my face. “What I want is for you to stop throwing your life away. Your principal told me you pushed a teacher. I couldn’t believe my ears. ‘Not my son,’ I started to tell her, but she said at least ten people watched you do it. Pushed a teacher! Even at Zamora you never did nothin’ like this!”