Bad Girls Finish First by Shelia Dansby Harvey

her. The boys’ mix of emotional impulsiveness and burgeoning intellectual maturity made for an energetic, hard-to-control group.
    â€œBoys! Boys! Please calm down!” If there was such a thing as a timid shout, Grace used it. The students ignored her. They threw balled up wads of paper at each other and refused to stay in their seats. They raised hell.
    John Reese, drawn by all the commotion, walked in and asked, “What’s going on in here?” He didn’t shout, and his voice wasn’t particularly deep, but it was authoritative.
    â€œNothing, Mr. Reese,” James said as he and the rest of the boys scurried to their seats.
    John looked around the room, giving each of the six boys an evil eye meant especially for him. “I don’t want to have to come in here again.”
    He looked at Grace. Everything okay? his eyes asked.
    â€œWe’re fine, John. Thanks.”
    â€œNow boys, where were we?” Grace opened her third-grade reader. “Oh, yes. Open your books to page sixteen, please.” Grace didn’t look at the youngsters as she spoke.
    Grace cleared her throat. “Wallace, will you please read for us?” She never looked up from her book.
    Silence.
    â€œWallace?” Grace looked in the direction of the boy she’d asked to read. She fixed her eyes on his ear.
    The boy stared back at her, his face blank. A few of the others snickered.
    â€œAin’t nobody up in here named Wallace,” James said. James was thirteen and the boy Grace asked to read was his younger brother. “His name is Waleed.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Grace said. “Waleed, please read the first two paragraphs.”
    The young man stumbled through the first paragraph. Grace helped him out with one or two words, but mainly she left poor Waleed on his own. Grace’s mind was far away, brooding over an article she’d seen in the morning paper: JOSEPH AND WIFE TO BE HONORED AT JUNETEENTH FETE
    I used to be the “and wife,” Grace thought miserably.
    Waleed was about to begin the second paragraph, but James broke in. “Can I read the rest of it?” he asked.
    Waleed looked at James, clearly relieved, but Grace didn’t catch it.
    â€œYou’ll get your turn in a minute, son,” Grace said absently. “Waleed?”
    Waleed slammed his book shut. “Read if you want to, James. She ain’t gon’ be able to tell the difference no way.”
    â€œNo shit,” said Trey, just loud enough for Grace to hear.
    Grace finally took a good look at the students sitting around her. Every boy had a surly expression on his face.
    â€œBut you’re here to improve your reading,” said Grace, a puzzled expression on her face. “The only way you’re going to learn is to try.”
    â€œThat’s why we here. What you here for? You did some kinda crime, got some kinda community service you gotta do?” Trey said, a smirk on his face.
    Emboldened, another student cracked on Grace. “She probably got a child abuse case. We ought to call 911 on her right now!”
    Everybody laughed except for James. One boy started rapping—something about calling 911—and two others stood and stalked about the room, waving their arms and reciting the lyrics like they were on stage at a hip-hop concert.
    â€œBoys, please sit down! Eric, why would you say something like that?” She fought to be heard.
    â€œâ€™Cause his name ain’t Eric, that’s why. It’s Aaron,” James said. Everybody turned to look at him. James hadn’t said anything since he asked to read for his brother. James waved a hand toward the window. “Everybody else out enjoying summer vacation. But we here. Ain’t nobody made us come. We came because we want to—” James’s voice got a little shaky and his eyes glistened—“to do better. But you act like we ain’t nothing. You don’t even try to