Cooper began to swagger around and imitate John Wayne’s famous walk. “Gather ’round, pilgrims,” Cooper said in his best John Wayne voice. “Here I am, a big black John Wayne come to town to right all the wrongs you dudes been pilin’ up. Only I ain’t got a horse. Anybody want to loan me a horse?”

Just then, Brisana came walking along. She glanced briefly at Cooper and Tarah and ignored them. Looking directly at Darcy, she asked, “Want to eat lunch with me at the usual place?”

“It’s a nice place for lunch,” Darcy said to Tarah and Cooper. “You guys want to join us?”

Brisana began gesturing wildly behind Cooper’s and Tarah’s backs, trying to make Darcy understand that she was not in the least interested in all four of them eating lunch together. Tarah and Cooper could not help noticing Brisana’s message. “Go on, Darcy,” Tarah said, “go and have lunch. See you later. We like it right here. ” Tarah looked hurt, but Darcy admired how cool she was about it.

“Oh, go ahead, Bris,” Darcy answered. “I think I’ll stay here today and eat with these guys. ”

Tarah looked at Darcy and declared, “You don’t have to do that. ”

“I want to,” Darcy said. “Catch up with you later, Brisana. ”

Brisana hurried off as if she could not move fast enough.

As soon as Brisana left, Cooper said, “Oh, I get it. You feel sorry for us. I mean, it’s like when the social worker comes to check on the neighbor lady who’s on disability. She acts like she just loves to sit down and talk, but deep down she’s lookin’ down on that lady. ” Scowling, Cooper added, “Listen, sistah, you don’t have to be tight with us. ”

“What if I want to?” Darcy said, surprised by her own cool. “What if I really want to?”

“Well, then,” Tarah said, “that’s different. ” A big grin spread over her face.

As Darcy ate lunch with Tarah and Cooper, other regulars joined them, kids Darcy had little to do with in the past. They had often passed Darcy in the halls, at the library, even sat beside her in some classes, but they remained strangers. There was Keisha, whose parents owned and operated a tiny neighborhood grocery store. And there was Hakeem Randall, with a guitar slung over his shoulder. Once, when he sat off by himself, strumming and singing, Darcy had almost walked over to tell him how good he sounded. But she didn’t. Now he sat beside her, talking with Cooper about football. And there was also Shariff, a Sudanese boy who had just arrived at school, and Sonia, who quietly told Darcy that she had never liked Bobby Wallace.