Period 8 by Chris Crutcher Page B

nods.
    â€œIt was just some stuff at home,” she says. “My dad . . . I got all worried about my scholarship and was thinking about taking a year at the university here. It got ugly and I took off. I don’t know what my dad was doing reporting me missing like that.” She puts her head down. “I’m so embarrassed.”
    Only the two or three students sitting adjacent to Hannah hear her singsongy whisper, “Buuullll-shit.”
    â€œThat’s it?” Justin says. Mary nods. “That’s it. I was being stupid.”
    Logs watches. He starts to ask about her torn-up room, but lets it go. “It would be insincere not to acknowledge that we were talking about you,” he says. “Or at least that we were talking about our responses to your disappearance.”
    Mary smiles. “It would be insincere to say I didn’t know that.”
    â€œAny problem for you if we continue with our discussion?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen, where were we?” Logs says.
    Bobby Wright raises his hand. “Taylor was talking about bad guys.”
    Justin’s head snaps up. “Bobby, my man ,” he says. “That’s what I mean. Front and center .”
    â€œThere’s not much more to say,” Taylor says, shifting in her seat. “I went home sick yesterday after this class. I hate even talking about that crap.”
    â€œYou want to stop?” Logs asks.
    Taylor looks at her desk. “I’m okay.”
    â€œWhat about your mom?” Hannah asks softly. “Guys like that have to have a way in .”
    â€œThat’s my mom,” Taylor says. “A way in.”
    â€œNo offense,” Hannah says, “but file that under ‘Why Some Women Need Two Assholes.’”
    Paulie says, “Sweet, Hannah.”
    Hannah stares ahead as if she didn’t hear.
    â€œWho cares?” Taylor says. “The day I’m eighteen I’m out of there, even if I have to live in a cardboard box.”
    â€œIf it comes to that, give me a call,” Hannah says.
    Justin says, “You got a cardboard box?”
    Hannah doubles her fist and Justin raises his hands in surrender.
    â€œWhy is everything a joke to you, Justin?”
    â€œBecause everything is a joke,” Justin says. “Sometimes it’s a serious joke, but it’s a joke just the same.”
    â€œThat’s just stupid.”
    â€œSome jokes are,” Justin says, and turns sideways in his chair to face Hannah. “We’re sittin’ in this nice safe room trying to figure out why Taylor’s momma picks shitheads for boyfriends, or why Mary disappears and won’t tell us why really , or whether guys are assholes for having brains in our di . . . not in our heads. Everybody acts like they don’t know what bull it is when Arney goes Oprah on us at the same time he’s messin’ with Bobby, so we go ahead and pretend like we believe he’s gonna lead us to having each other’s backs.” He looks at Arney and rolls his eyes.
    â€œLook, I apologized,” Arney says. “And I don’t need you to believe me in order to do what’s right.”
    â€œGood,” Justin says back, “because I don’t. We been buds a long time, Arney, but that doesn’t mean I buy your stuff.” He turns back to Hannah. “So that’s why everything’s a joke to me, Hannah Murphy.”
    A muffled sob comes from the back of the room and all eyes fall on Kylie Clinton, face against a desktop, body shaking. A hush falls over P-8 and Logs raises a hand. “This might be a good day to cut it short,” he says. “Why don’t we call it quits and you can all take a little break and be on time to your next class for the first time this year.”
    Mary gets up slowly, eyes locked on Kylie.
    Arney touches Mary’s elbow, nods toward the exit, pushes her gently in that direction.
    The rest of the