Fault Line by Christa Desir Page A

three-day suspension for fighting on school grounds. When my mom picked me up, she didn’t say a word to me. She had a brief conversation with the guidance counselor and pointed me to the door.
    “What happened, Ben?” she demanded the minute I got in the car.
    “My Jeep’s in the lot. I can drive home.”
    “No. Your father can get it tonight. What happened?”
    “Nothing,” I said, buckling myself in and mentally preparing for her lecture. I glanced at the windows on the first floor of the school and was suddenly struck by what I’d done. Shit. Ani was on her own. Alone in a den of vipers. Shit. Shit. Shit.
    “No way, mister. You got a three-day suspension for fighting and I want to know why. So let’s hear it.” Mom’s hair had fallen loose from her bun and she looked exhausted. She was working too hard, staying up too late studying for grad school. She didn’t need this.
    “I don’t have anything to say. It was a mistake.” It had been. I wasn’t exactly sorry for it, but I hated the thought of Ani watching me lose my shit. I hated that my mom had to come get me.
    “You’re absolutely right it was a mistake, but this isn’t like you. You’ve never been in trouble for fighting. Did that kid do something to provoke you?”
    “Mom,” I said, and turned to her, “remember how you’re always saying that we need to respect one another?” She nodded. “I need you to do that now. I’d like you to let this go. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again. But I don’t want to talk about it. Please.” I would not make this her problem. I couldn’t. And I didn’t have any more words to give her that wouldn’t break my promise to Ani.
    Her lips pursed in a tight line as she searched my face. Her hand grazed over a cut I’d gotten above my eye. Finally she released a breath and put the key in the ignition.
    “You’re grounded for six weeks. I’ll assume this was some sort of lapse with you, and we’ll leave it alone as long as this is the last time that I’m called from work to pick you up. Clear?”
    I nodded and stared at the windows of school. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to shake off the image of Ani screaming at me and hiding her face in her knees while she watched me beat some kid to a pulp on the hallway floor.
    I got home and completely lost my shit the minute I saw the picture on my desk of Ani and me at my swim meet, the pink bumblebee poster clutched in her hand. I tore my room apart. I pulled the swirly, colorful star painting Ani had made me from the wall and ripped papers from my bulletin board. I kicked my laundry basket so many times my toe hurt. I kept hearing the guy asking Ani about her next show. The echo of bitchy girl laughter was like a soundtrack playing over and over again in my head. I finally collapsed on my bed, shaking so hard I could barely pull my shoes off.
    I’d left Ani at the mercy of school gossip for three days. She wasn’t going to have me to protect her. What the hell had I been thinking? I had to make it right. I searched beneath shredded homework and too many swim T-shirts for my cell phone. I found it, hoping for a message from Ani, but it was blank. I flipped it open and tried to call, but she didn’t answer. I hit my head against my bedpost and tried again. Nothing. I called Kate.
    “I screwed up,” I started.
    “Yeah, I heard.”
    “You’ve got to look out for Ani.”
    “No shit, but you should be doing it too. That shit you pulled was completely selfish. You’re not doing Ani any favors by fighting.”
    “I couldn’t help it. You should have heard what that prick said,” I practically yelled, pissed at myself because she was right.
    “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what he said and neither should you. We’re supposed to be supporting Ani. Do you see this as helping?”
    I inhaled a big gulp of air. “Of course not. I know. I fucked up. Sorry. Can you tell her I’m sorry?”
    “You should tell her,” Kate said in a clipped