Then it was Friday again. Suki’d worked a short shift midweek, then begged to be put back on Friday night. “You know what I love?” she said when we were driving there in the car. We’d dropped Francine off at O’Maillin’s. “When I’m scanning groceries really fast, and the register goes bing-bing-bing-bing-bing. It’s like music, you know? Or winning the lottery.”
I did not know, but I loved seeing her smile.
Coach Tony was standing near the front door, wearing his official Food City shirt and a pair of khaki pants. “Hey Coach!” I said.
“Hey, sunshine!” he said. To Suki he said, “Welcome back.”
“Thanks,” said Suki.
“Della tell you about the Y’s rec basketball league?” he asked her. “I want her to sign up for it so she gets some playing experience before middle school. I’m the coach for the middle school teams.”
Suki raised her eyebrows. “That sounds fun.”
I shook my head. “Forty bucks,” I said. I’d asked.
“Oh.”
“We have some scholarships available,” Coach Tony said. “You’d have to come early, help get the gym set up. Sweep the floors, that kind of thing.”
“Really?” I could do that. Maybe Nevaeh could do it with me.
Suki went to the office to check in. I ran to the deli. Maybelline handed me a cookie the minute she saw me. Chocolate chip. I broke it into two pieces and handed half back. “We’ll share,” I said. “I’ll do the saltshakers tonight too.”
She bit into the cookie. “That’s good,” she said. “I missed you. How are you? How’s your sister?”
I looked up at Maybelline. “I think she’s better. I’m scared she’s not, but I think she is. She just got a semicolon tattooed on her wrist. Did you know tattoos never ever go away?”
“Well, sure,” Maybelline said. “That’s why I never got one. I change my mind more often than some people change their underwear.”
* * *
■ ■ ■
I wandered around the store and checked out the creamer selection. (New flavor: classic cinnamon roll.) I wiped down the deli tables and filled up all the salt. Pepper too, though folks don’t use nearly as much pepper. I straightened up some of the fruit displays. Round ten o’clock I started doing the grocery shopping and that’s when I found the most amazing thing. There’s a teeny section of books at Food City, in the aisle with the greeting cards and pencils and baby supplies. Most of the books have half-naked cowboys or swooning long-haired white women on the cover, but there were usually a couple of kids’ books too, Sesame Street and Disney princesses, and sometimes cookbooks or books about gardening or trucks, down on the bottom row.
None of that would interest me even if I liked books, but somehow, as I was rolling the cart past, I happened to look down at that bottom row, and there was a coloring book about wolves.
Honest. Wolves. It wasn’t a baby coloring book, either—it was some kind of fancy one, and the wolves were swirly and intricate and fierce.
I’d never fallen in love with a coloring book before. I’d never even owned one, that I knew of. I dropped to my knees and grabbed this one—it was crazy, it was the only one in the rack, like it had been put there just for me. It cost ten bucks, but I didn’t care. I took it over to Suki. “If my part of the ten percent isn’t enough, I’ll pay you back, I swear,” I said. She waved me off and fetched her good markers out of her purse.
I sat in the deli the rest of the night. I colored one wolf in reds and browns and golds, and gave it to Maybelline, who hung it up behind the deli counter. I colored one in greens and yellows for Tony, and one in blues and black and purple for Suki. Then I did one in a whole rainbow of colors, and that one was for me.
41
So everything felt super until Monday morning, when I went and asked Suki another question. I don’t fault myself for asking. I mean, I needed to know. The alarm clock had just gone off, and we were lying still half-asleep. I said, “How many times did he hurt you?
She shrugged. “It probably wasn’t every week.”
It took a moment for this to sink in. I sat up. “Almost every week? For years?”
Whenever Suki felt really sad her eyes got bigger. Right now they looked like they might swallow her whole face. “Years,” she said. “The whole time.”
Dr. Fremont and Francine both say Suki and I have to live in the present. I get that, but the past keeps sneaking up on us and walloping us upside our heads.
* * *
■ ■ ■
When I got to school I was not in the best place to be dealing with snow from Trevor. Maybe he guessed that. Maybe he saw it as some kind of challenge. Right after breakfast he accidentally-on-purpose bumped into me in the hallway. I accidentally-on-purpose bumped him back. Hard.
At recess he pinched Luisa while she was talking to me. “Stop it!” Luisa yelled, but he was already laughing and running away.
The whistle blew. Recess was over. I sat down at my desk. Honestly, I’d had about all the snow I could take.
I turned around and glared at Trevor. He smirked back. Ms. Davonte said, “Della, turn around.” I did, but not before I saw Trevor lean over and whisper something to the boy who sat next to him. They both looked at me and laughed. I didn’t do anything. Couldn’t, with Ms. Davonte up at the whiteboard giving me the stink eye.
We had math class. At the end of it, Ms. Davonte gave us time to do a worksheet. I was bent over, working on it, entirely for once minding my own business. I wasn’t even thinking about Trevor anymore. But when he got up to take his paper to the podium at the front, on his way past me, he reached down and grabbed the skin of my back. Hard.
I jumped to my feet. I spun around and stepped forward so my entire body was about an inch away from Trevor’s. I pulled my fist back to punch him.
And then I didn’t.
I didn’t punch him.
Instead I looked him straight in the eye. I said, loud and clear into the silence that had fallen on the class, “You just pinched me, and you need to stop. Never touch me again. Never touch me or any girl in this class without permission ever again.”
Trevor took a step back. He almost looked scared. I was taller than he was. Heavier too. And about twenty times more fierce.
I was a wolf.
“Della!” Ms. Davonte said. She came up between us. “Della, sit down!”
I said, “I will not. Not until he promises to stop grabbing me.”
“I didn’t touch her,” Trevor said.
“Did too!” I said.
“Really, Ms. Davonte”—Trevor looked up, his face all innocent—“I didn’t.”
“You stupid—”
I didn’t say the next word. (Snowman.) Instead I looked at Ms. Davonte. “Check my back,” I said.
“What?”
“Look down the back of my shirt,” I said. “You’ll see a mark where he pinched me.”
Evidence.
“Della, don’t be ridiculous,” Ms. Davonte said. She sounded super annoyed. A fight between her two least-favorite students. She didn’t want to believe either one of us.
I looked over my shoulder. Found Nevaeh. Looked straight at her.
Her eyes asked, Do you want help?
Mine answered, Yes. Please.
Nevaeh got to her feet. “Trevor’s lying,” she said. “I saw him pinch Della. Also, he does it to me too.”
Across the room, Luisa stood up. She looked scared but she did it. She said, “At recess today he pinched my back.”
“Pinched your back?” Ms. Davonte asked.
Luisa said, “He thinks it’s funny we don’t wear bras.”
Mackinleigh stood up. “He does that to me too.”
Another girl stood. And another. And one more. Six girls standing, besides me. Trevor’s face went red.
“He does it all the time,” Neva
eh said, loud and clear. “He does it, and he laughs at us.”
Mackinleigh said, “I started wearing my sister’s old bras and he still does it. He snaps the strap. I told him not to and he doesn’t care.”
Luisa said, very softly, “It hurts. I told him to stop.”
“I’ve told him three times,” I said. “He does not have permission to touch me.”
Ms. Davonte looked stunned. Like she’d jumped into an ice-cold swimming pool. “Trevor,” Ms. Davonte said, “go to the office and have a seat. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Trevor slouched out. The rest of the class sat very still. Even Trevor’s friends weren’t laughing. We’d never seen this kind of look on Ms. Davonte’s face before. She studied us, turned her head and looked at every single person, especially the girls who were standing. “How long has this been going on?” she asked.
Nobody said anything.
“Why didn’t any of you say something?” Ms. Davonte said. “Della’s right. No one is allowed to touch anyone else without permission. We had a whole conversation about this at the start of the year.”
Nevaeh said, “I told my teacher last year. Trevor said he didn’t do it. The teacher thought I was lying.”
Luisa said, “My dad says I have to fight my own battles. But I don’t like fighting.”
I said, “You think you already know all the answers about me. You don’t listen.”
Ms. Davonte sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. She looked sorry. “Clearly this is something I should have been aware of. Girls, sit down—but thank you for standing up and speaking out.” She looked back at me. “Della,” she said, “you get on down to the office too.”
42
Dr. Penny and Ms. Davonte called Francine and told her to take time off work and come to the school. “Why?” I argued. “Trevor started it. It wasn’t my fault.”
“You aren’t in trouble,” Dr. Penny said, “but you need a parent or guardian here for this.”
“Why?” I got up and paced around the office. Trevor just sat, looking at his shoes. “Francine’ll have to take emergency vacation time. She won’t be happy.”
Dr. Penny said, “I imagine she won’t,” like that was not a big deal at all. “She’s your foster parent. This is a situation that calls for your parent to be here.”
* * *
■ ■ ■
We sat in that office for almost an hour, waiting. My stomach tied itself in knots. Trevor stretched out his legs and spread his arms, like he was just relaxing, not worried at all, but I noticed how fast and shallow he was breathing.
Part of me wanted to tell him to take a big deep breath. Let it out slow.
Part of me did not.
The longer we sat there, the more nervous Trevor looked. I wondered what his story was. Wondered how many bad things had happened to him.
No matter how many it was, it didn’t make it okay for him to harass me.
Trevor’s mom showed up wearing a uniform from a fast-food place. She gave both Trevor and me the same kind of glare. Didn’t say anything. Francine strolled in right after her, all unhurried, like this was just a normal part of her day. Before anybody could say much, Dr. Penny had us all move into a room where we could sit around a big table. Ms. Davonte came back. She told Trevor’s mom and Francine what she saw, and what I said, and Nevaeh, and Mackinleigh, and Luisa. And how the other girls stood up too.
Trevor’s mom had a hard, mean face. She said she didn’t understand the fuss about a little teasing, and also if anyone was a bully it was me. I’d punched him, hadn’t I?
“That was last week,” I said, “not today. But I’d do it again—”
“Della,” Francine said, “shut up.” Her face got as hard as Trevor’s mother’s and her expression more pug dog than ever. She started talking, long stern sentences with words like harassment and safe learning environment. It took me a while to realize she was actually on my side.
“I want to see the school handbook,” Francine said. “Let’s look up what each of these students has actually done.”
Come to find out “inappropriate touching” was a thing. First offense: three days’ in-school suspension. Which meant Trevor would have to do worksheets in the library, by himself, for three whole days.
“This wasn’t the first time,” I said.
The principal gave Ms. Davonte a sideways kind of look. “I understand,” she said, “but this is the first documented time.”
“There were seven of us,” I said. “Seven offenses.”
“Yes.” The principal seemed to be considering.
“That’s ridiculous!” Trevor’s mom spat. She started to talk about how her son Daniel had been targeted too, how teachers at this school had it in for her boys. Her voice rose high and angry. She turned to Trevor. “I can’t believe you’re letting a girl get the better of you.”
“Right,” Francine said, picking up the handbook again. “So what did Della do?”
What I’d done, at least this time, was pretty much nothing. I had disrupted class. I hadn’t hit anybody, or damaged anything, or, for once, used any bad words. “Disrupting class” gave you a Reflection Recess, which meant sit and think about what you’ve done. Which I had pretty much done for an hour already.
Trevor looked shocked. Like, he never thought anything he was doing was a big deal.
“I wish the girls had come to me earlier,” Ms. Davonte said. “I wish I’d been paying better attention.”
I said, “It’s hard to talk about hard things. Especially to people that don’t listen.”
Ms. Davonte looked at me. “Right,” she said. “I understand.”
“Trevor,” Dr. Penny said, “what do you have to say?”
He looked up, and he looked sideways at his mom, and he flinched a little. I knew he was afraid. A mean part of me wanted to feel glad—let him be afraid, for once—but most of me wasn’t. I didn’t think Trevor was evil, like Clifton. Not really. I knew I didn’t know his story.
I wondered who Trevor was afraid of, and why.
“Daniel started it,” he said. “Snapping bra straps. You know, for fun. But the girls in fourth grade mostly don’t wear bras, so, you know . . .” His voice trailed off.
Ms. Davonte said, “How is that fun?”
Trevor’s mother said, “It’s just teasing. All boys—”
“You know,” Trevor said. “It’s funny. It makes the other boys laugh.” He shifted uncomfortably.
I remembered, back at my old school, how I tried to make people laugh. Because I wanted to have a friend. Because I wanted people to like me. Trevor was the only kid with his name on the whiteboard.
I said, “The girls never thought it was funny. I hate it.”
“Some girls like it,” he said.
“I bet not. How would you like it if all the girls started grabbing the front of your pants?”
Trevor’s mom said, “Oh, that’s not—”
Francine said, “It’s exactly the same.”
Trevor didn’t say anything, but his eyes got big.
“Didn’t think so,” I said. “So knock it off.”
Trevor looked at me for half a second, then dropped his gaze. “Okay,” he said. “I’m, you know. I’m sorry.”
Trevor’s mom started on about how this was Not Fair and making too much of a little thing, and boys would be boys, everybody expected that, it wasn’t like you’d want them to be sissies. The principal said there was nothing boyish about bad behavior and made her sign some paper about the in-school suspension.
“What’s she going to get?” Trevor’s mom said, pointing at me.
Dr. Penny said I would be disciplined appropriately. She excused Trevor’s mom, and Trevor. After they left, Dr. Penny turned to me. “If he does touch you inappropriately again, him or anyone else, I want to hear about it right away
. Okay?”
I nodded.
Dr. Penny said, “I’m proud of you for using words this time. Appropriate words. That shows progress, Della. Go on back to class.”
Francine said, “I think I’ll just take her home.”
“You don’t have to,” I said, fast. “I’ll behave.”
“Nah. Enough’s enough.”
Francine waited for me to get my backpack. We got in the car. She drove straight to McDonald’s.
Seriously. She bought us each a chocolate milkshake.
“I’m not trying to mess things up,” I said, sucking hard on my straw.
“You didn’t mess nothing up,” she said, sucking hard on hers. “You did good.”
43
At home, Suki said, “Huh. He got in trouble, and you didn’t?”
“That’s right,” I said. “I didn’t even say snow.”
“Huh,” said Suki. “That’s awesome. Good for you.”
* * *
■ ■ ■
Next morning was my appointment with Dr. Fremont. When she handed me a feelings paper, I circled annoyed but not angry. Worried but not scared. Strong, not invisible. I circled resilient. I circled proud.
Dr. Fremont looked at the paper. “That’s a nice improvement,” she said.
Then she took out the little workbook that we did sometimes when I was there. “I think it’s time for you to start writing down your story,” she said. She showed me pages where I was supposed to write down what happened to me, and how I felt about it, and also what I wanted to happen next. My future story. My Permanency Plan.
The workbook left two and a half pages blank for me to write my story. I shook my head. “I’m going to need a lot more paper than that.”
* * *
■ ■ ■
At school I got to class early. I reached into my desk and pulled out the creamer Nevaeh and I traded back and forth.
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