Blind Spot by Laura Ellen

glass pipe. “What is that?” I demanded. “Weed?”
    “You’re not afraid of me,” Tricia said, ignoring my question. “So why don’t you ever look me in the eye?”
    “I . . .” I shrugged. I wasn’t going to discuss my eyesight with her.
    She took another hit off the pipe. “That’s how animals show submission, you know. They avoid eye contact.” She held the pipe out. “Want some?”
    “No.” I shoved it away.
    “Yeah, you don’t need this. You’re tough.” She slipped the pipe into her pocket, her fingers lingering on the soft brown material of her cloak. “My mom made this so I could be tough and no one would hurt me again.” She’d morphed into a little girl, sad and vulnerable.
    “Hurt you? Like Wayne did?” I asked.
    She brushed a long strand of blond hair from her face. “He said I could help pay the money she owed him.” A sad grin crossed her lips. “But she made
him
pay.”
    “Tricia? Does Dellian . . . ?” I took a deep breath. My heart pounded in my chest. “I mean Rodney. Does he—”
    “I wanna dance!” She leaped onto the toilet seat, teetering off balance as her spiked heels straddled the seat.
    “Not up there.” I tried to steady her with my hands while I coaxed her down. “Come on, you can dance in class.”
    She tugged her arms free but jumped to the ground. As soon as she landed, she began singing some crazy lyrics I didn’t know. Flashbacks of “Copacabana” flooded my brain. Should I take her to the nurse? She’d slept it off last time, right? Dellian had overreacted? I decided to guide her back to the classroom.
    “Tricia’s . . . not well,” I told Dellian as we walked in. Tricia was singing some hip-hop song now while flopping her arms around like a hysterical rag doll. “Should I take her to the nurse?”
    “Oh.” He looked around the room. Everyone was watching him. “No, thank you, Miss Hart. She can stay here today until she feels better.” As he said this, he gave me a look. A look that said . . . what? The way he was focused so fully on me, I knew that look had a ton of meaning. Unfortunately, I was clear across the room, so I couldn’t see his eyes or his facial expression, and his silent message was lost on me. But I got the feeling he was hiding something. Something maybe . . . he was afraid I knew?
     
    At lunch, I decided to see if Tricia was still sleeping it off in Life Skills. I found her leaning against the wall just outside the classroom door, squirting Insta-Whip in her mouth, while the distinct voices of Jonathan and Dellian argued inside.
    “What’s going on?” I moved to the door to listen.
    She grabbed my arm. “We need to talk.” I followed her into the bathroom, and she locked the door behind us. “Swear you won’t tell Rodney about today.”
    “You mean that you were smoking crack?” I smiled at her look of surprise. “You think I don’t know the difference between a crack pipe and a peace pipe?” When she folded her arms across her chest, I shrugged. “So I guessed. It didn’t smell like pot.”
    “I’m not addicted, okay? It’s not like the heroin. I can stop anytime. But if Rodney finds out—”
    “You think he couldn’t tell? He’s not an idiot, Tricia.”
    “Just swear you won’t tell him.”
    “I’ll swear,” I said, “if you tell me the real deal between you two.”
    Her jaw tightened. “I can’t talk about that.”
    “Then I can’t swear.”
    “People could get in trouble, okay?”
    “Who? Dellian? Maybe it’s time you protected yourself for a change.”
    “As if you care! You only want to nail Dellian to get him off your ass!”
    “Maybe.” I unlocked the stall door. “But at least he’s not nailing my ass.”
    “Screw you!” Her voice trembled. “You don’t know anything!”
    “I know he’s using you. I think I’ll bypass Dellian and go straight to Ratner with all of this.” I stepped out into the hall. And stopped. Wasn’t I using her too? I didn’t care if