Because We Are by Mildred Pitts; Walter Page B

loved you, but that gave you no claim over me.”
    â€œNo, you love me, and I love you,” he shouted, taking her hands.
    â€œNo, no, no!” She pulled away and went to find Allan and his friend.
    They had already gone. She was glad she had given Gary her address and telephone number. She went to phone her mother, feeling more relieved than she had felt in a long time. There was no longer a need for her to be grateful to Marvin for nothing. The rest of the vacation should be easy. She sighed. Ahead of her was: getting back to school—and the challenge of Manning.

Thirteen
    Emma moved quickly through the crowded gym, scanning names above stations to make sure she got the best teacher at the right time, for the right class. She was feeling buoyant, pleased with herself for the first time in a long while. The rejection she had faced recently had forced a retreat into herself to find what was lacking. Not beauty. Certainly not brain. Her grade report for the first semester at Manning showed a continuing four-point average. Letters and brochures were pouring in from colleges and universities. This outpouring bolstered her ego; she was sought after.
    If she were lacking in anything, it was the will to do what she felt was best to do. The central fault, she realized, was that, as if by nature, she always tried to please everyone else, sometimes at the risk of her own happiness. Armed with that insight, she resolved to make this, her last semester of high school, count for her. She would think Emma , do her work, graduate, leave Manning, and start fresh in a place that wanted her.
    Now with class cards in hand, she waded through the crowd looking for Mr. Wheeler, her choice for American literature. Mr. Wheeler, a young Black, had completed only one semester on the faculty at Manning. Although he was a newcomer, he was gaining a good reputation. Emma was anxious to get into his class because he was the only American lit teacher there who included Black writers in his course. Allan had warned that if she wanted him, she had better get there early.
    Finally she reached his station. Teachers on both sides of him were busy signing cards while Mr. Wheeler sat drumming on the table with his pencil, a half-smile lighting his face; yet, he had a distracted look, oblivious of the hustle and bustle about him. What luck, Emma thought as she handed him her card. In the moment that he took to read her card, she was aware of his long slender fingers, his large blunt fingernails, well clipped and groomed but not manicured.
    â€œI’ve filled my lit class,” Mr. Wheeler said, handing her back her card.
    â€œYou wouldn’t kid me now, would you, Mr. Wheeler?”
    He laughed. “I most certainly would not. I’d be delighted to enroll you.”
    â€œAw! Can’t you take just one more?”
    â€œSorry about that. Now, Mr. Kooner may be able to take you.”
    Mr. Kooner sat right next to Mr. Wheeler. He glanced at Emma with a noncommittal look, then went on signing cards. Emma had a feeling he didn’t want her any more than she wanted him. She must find Allan and get some advice.
    Allan knew most of the teachers there by reputation. He could tell her what to do. Disappointed, she went looking for him. The crush was terrific. People were wall-to-wall. There was no escape from the odor of bodies, gym lockers, and shower stalls. Where was Allan?
    She finally gave up and stumbled outside where the cold air was refreshing. Near the water fountain, Allan was having a hilarious time with Brenda and her friends. She hailed him. “There you are. I need you for a minute.”
    â€œCan’t y’ see we talkin’ t’ Allan?” Brenda demanded harshly.
    â€œExcuse me . I was talking to Allan. ”
    â€œI told y’, we talkin’. Now if y’ can’t wait, then go on ’bout y’ business.”
    Emma looked at Brenda. Brenda was indeed attractive. It was her fire, her