I bent over and shoved his hand away when he grabbed my shoulder. I pushed past him and snatched open the stairwell door without looking back. I made sure to hug my pudgy stomach like it had truly been hurt. I walked slow enough for him to notice, added a little bend to my waist and twist to my hips. I wanted to know if the boy was still watching me, but I sensed he was. I smothered a laugh and wondered if I shouldn’t have cussed him out. I couldn’t help but look back for him, but by the time I turned around he was already going. I caught one of those brown grasshopper legs before it disappeared round the landing to the fourth floor. Except for his white cheek, I couldn’t have told anybody what his face looked like, wouldn’t have recognized him if he had passed me on the street. Yet even so, like someone had pricked a voodoo doll in my honor, I felt something.

TWO

I WAS WAY too tired the next morning to focus on any of my classes. I was more than relieved to get to third-period biology and see Mrs. Carly had stayed her demanding ass at home. We had a substitute and I wouldn’t have to do a thing. I spent third-period biology ignoring the dowdy White female sub, along with the two dozen other kids in the class. The other half dozen or so threw paper, smashed chalk, played spades, threatened to leave, chased each other, yanked the window shades, ate no-name chips, juked to beats drummed out with pencils, interrogated this period’s babysitter with the usual questions: You married? Where you live? How you get this job? Can we go outside? Can we pleeeease go outside? The substitute just passed out handouts on the new unit because she knew better than to try to classroom-manage or, God forbid, teach. When she did speak, to tell us what we were supposed to be trying to read about “reproduction,” the only ones who heard were the sad innocents who always sat in the back and never said a word.