Zero Tolerance by Claudia Mills Page A

accelerated math sequence that Sierra was taking.
    â€œShe made me go to the board for some dumb-ass problem. A whole bunch of us were up there, writing problems on the board. I got the answer wrong. Two girls did, too, and she didn’t make fun of them, but to me she said, ‘Do you want to repeat sixth-grade math, Bradley? I didn’t realize you liked my math class so much that you’d want to stay with me next year.’”
    â€œWhat did you say?” Sierra asked, appalled.
    â€œI said her class sucked, and math sucked, and she sucked.”
    â€œThen what happened?”
    â€œThat was my first suspension. She did fail me for that quarter, but I passed for the year, so I never had to be in class with her again.”
    Sierra still didn’t know what she was going to say when it was her turn, so she was glad when Luke spoke.
    â€œI hated them all except for Miss Boyle in kindergarten; she was cool. But the worst was Mrs. Bieber in third grade. She wanted to help the rest of the class understand why I was so difficult , so they’d have compassion for me instead of being pissed off at me all the time.
    â€œSo she told them all, ‘Luke has a condition called ADD.’ She wrote it up on the board. ‘Does anyone know what these letters stand for? A-D-D? Attention deficit disorder. That’s what Luke has, so his behavior problems are not his fault.’”
    Luke paused. “There are still some losers who call me that, ADD Boy.”
    Sierra made a sudden guess.
    â€œMitch. When you were fighting last week. That’s what he called you.”
    Luke didn’t answer, but Sierra knew she had guessed right.
    â€œI hate your third-grade teacher, too,” Sierra whispered. “I hate all of them. Her, and Mrs. Nolan, and the one who couldn’t pronounce Julio’s name.”
    â€œBut which of your teachers do you hate the most?” Luke asked.
    â€œI hate Ms. Lin,” she offered.
    â€œDoesn’t count. Everybody hates Lintbag. Probably her own parents hate her.”
    She might as well confess. “Okay, I lose. I never hated any of them.”
    â€œSuck-up. Ass kisser,” Luke said, but not in a mean way, more in a friendly, almost flirty way.
    If Em had been here in suspension—but how far away Sierra’s former friends seemed right now—Em would have said, “Luke Bishop likes you.”

 
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    At lunchtime, with Mrs. Saunders out for the day and Ms. Lin alone in the office, the four suspendees were allowed to walk to the cafeteria to buy lunch unescorted.
    â€œI told Sandy to keep an eye on you,” Ms. Lin told them. “So I don’t want to hear about any funny business.”
    Little did Ms. Lin know that all the funny business had already happened during the five minutes that she was out of the office a few hours ago. The Denver Post might very well not print Ms. Lin’s letter to the editor—the only one of Sierra’s that had been published was about the importance of bike safety. But then again, it very well might.
    If only Sierra hadn’t sent it!
    But Ms. Lin deserved it, Sierra kept telling herself.
    And either way, it couldn’t be unsent.
    As the four of them entered the cafeteria, Sierra wondered if Colin would come over to talk to her again. It might be awkward without Mrs. Saunders there to monitor the conversation so that Luke didn’t say anything inappropriate, like Coming to talk to your girlfriend?
    On the one hand, if Luke said that and Colin heard it, it might give Colin the appealing idea that Sierra should be his girlfriend. On the other hand, it might scare him off instead. Was it better if a boy gradually became your boyfriend without even realizing it, so that by the time he did realize what was going on, it was already too late? Her mother had made it sound that way with her father: he came to her play with a friend, laughed at the wrong time, and then the