like a piece of shit in front of your class. I think you’re both scared I’ll do something with that tape.”
“Are you planning to?” Branson asked. She said it quickly—too quickly.
“YouTube comes to mind. So does a lawyer. But going forward, we’ll see how you behave toward me and the other kids who are picked on in school. I think you’re one of the worst people here. I think you’ve got a rotten soul. I think you’re one of those teachers who collects their favorite students in an effort to fuel your own ego. Anyone who doesn’t kiss your ass gets the shaft. I’m sick of it. It’s time for a change.”
Her face turned bright red, not with embarrassment or humility, but with rage. I looked at Roberts. “Can I go to homeroom?”
Because of that video, her hands were tied. She couldn’t say a word to me. She couldn’t piss me off any more than I already was. She nodded. “If there’s anything we can do—”
“Just keep the canned concern to a minimum. That’s all I ask. I don’t need it and I don’t want it. I just want to get through this year and then get the hell out of here. The happiest day of my life is going to be when I never have to see either of you or anyone else here again.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The last time I tried to enter homeroom, Jake Tyler blocked my path with his meaty arm and the salty, sweaty stink of his own B.O. This time, I stepped inside and the room went silent.
So, you know, progress.
I walked to my desk and could feel dozens of eyes on me. Somebody whispered something, but I couldn’t hear what. I looked for Jennifer and Alex, found them and felt relieved that they were here.
I’d missed them.
I took my seat behind Alex, who turned around and put his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I looked him in the eye. “So long as no one fucks with me, I’m fine.”
He wasn’t expecting that and his eyes widened. I intentionally said it with a raised voice because it was time to send a message. It wasn’t business as usual with me. Come after me and I’ll come after you. That’s the vibe I was giving off because they’d given me no choice. Amulet or no amulet, it was time to stand up for myself.
I looked to my right and saw Hastings sitting two rows over from me. He was staring straight ahead, his hand was in a cast from punching my little finger and he was wearing a T-shirt that had a bull’s-eye on the front of it. Underneath it, there were a few words written in black marker: “Careful. This could be you.” Had he written that?
“You always threaten people with your T-shirts, Hastings?”
He didn’t look at me. We had our round in the woods a week ago, which he’d never forget even though I made certain he’d forever be unable to discuss it. I wondered if he knew that I saw him with the crew who torched my parents’ trailer, so I tested the waters. “You smell like gas,” I said. “And smoke. There a reason for that?”
He lifted his eyes to the blackboard in front of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude.”
“Yes, you do, but we’ll get to that later, when it’s just you and me.”
“Whatever.”
“I’ll show you whatever.”
“Why don’t you leave him alone, loser?”
It was Ginny Gibson. She was sitting in front of Hastings and, frankly, I couldn’t believe she had the balls to speak to me after what she’d done. Her brown hair, perfect as always, hung down her back in a shiny cascade of reflected light. Her brown eyes, dark as always, penetrated mine with the aggression of somebody who only had known privilege and popularity.
“Where were you when my parents died, Ginny?”
That got her. Her eyes darted back at Hastings, who was still staring at the blackboard, only this time with sweat on his forehead.
“What are you talking
“Are you planning to?” Branson asked. She said it quickly—too quickly.
“YouTube comes to mind. So does a lawyer. But going forward, we’ll see how you behave toward me and the other kids who are picked on in school. I think you’re one of the worst people here. I think you’ve got a rotten soul. I think you’re one of those teachers who collects their favorite students in an effort to fuel your own ego. Anyone who doesn’t kiss your ass gets the shaft. I’m sick of it. It’s time for a change.”
Her face turned bright red, not with embarrassment or humility, but with rage. I looked at Roberts. “Can I go to homeroom?”
Because of that video, her hands were tied. She couldn’t say a word to me. She couldn’t piss me off any more than I already was. She nodded. “If there’s anything we can do—”
“Just keep the canned concern to a minimum. That’s all I ask. I don’t need it and I don’t want it. I just want to get through this year and then get the hell out of here. The happiest day of my life is going to be when I never have to see either of you or anyone else here again.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The last time I tried to enter homeroom, Jake Tyler blocked my path with his meaty arm and the salty, sweaty stink of his own B.O. This time, I stepped inside and the room went silent.
So, you know, progress.
I walked to my desk and could feel dozens of eyes on me. Somebody whispered something, but I couldn’t hear what. I looked for Jennifer and Alex, found them and felt relieved that they were here.
I’d missed them.
I took my seat behind Alex, who turned around and put his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I looked him in the eye. “So long as no one fucks with me, I’m fine.”
He wasn’t expecting that and his eyes widened. I intentionally said it with a raised voice because it was time to send a message. It wasn’t business as usual with me. Come after me and I’ll come after you. That’s the vibe I was giving off because they’d given me no choice. Amulet or no amulet, it was time to stand up for myself.
I looked to my right and saw Hastings sitting two rows over from me. He was staring straight ahead, his hand was in a cast from punching my little finger and he was wearing a T-shirt that had a bull’s-eye on the front of it. Underneath it, there were a few words written in black marker: “Careful. This could be you.” Had he written that?
“You always threaten people with your T-shirts, Hastings?”
He didn’t look at me. We had our round in the woods a week ago, which he’d never forget even though I made certain he’d forever be unable to discuss it. I wondered if he knew that I saw him with the crew who torched my parents’ trailer, so I tested the waters. “You smell like gas,” I said. “And smoke. There a reason for that?”
He lifted his eyes to the blackboard in front of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude.”
“Yes, you do, but we’ll get to that later, when it’s just you and me.”
“Whatever.”
“I’ll show you whatever.”
“Why don’t you leave him alone, loser?”
It was Ginny Gibson. She was sitting in front of Hastings and, frankly, I couldn’t believe she had the balls to speak to me after what she’d done. Her brown hair, perfect as always, hung down her back in a shiny cascade of reflected light. Her brown eyes, dark as always, penetrated mine with the aggression of somebody who only had known privilege and popularity.
“Where were you when my parents died, Ginny?”
That got her. Her eyes darted back at Hastings, who was still staring at the blackboard, only this time with sweat on his forehead.
“What are you talking
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