And just like that, Dee was standing right next to me and way too close. I couldn’t get up. I was already stuck in the middle of a squishy tumbleweed pillow, and there was no easy way out of it. He looked down at us, and it felt like he was our very own giant.

Ms. Mendoza came over. “Positive choice, Dee,” she said.

He plopped down on the floor and took some cards from the top of the pile. He knocked over the rest of the stack and set it straight, except it wasn’t.

I knew if Bodhi or Carlos or Charlene had wanted to play, Bertie would have said we should reshuffle and redeal and restart the game. But she didn’t. I could see her shoulders getting all scrunched up.

Ms. Mendoza headed to the other side of the room to help Destiny with the computer.

“Whose turn?” Dee said, like he played Uno with us all the time. He leaned down over his cards and stared at them. He still smelled like peanut butter.

“Mine,” I tried to say, but the word got stuck down in my throat.

“Austin’s,” Dee said. “Austin, who’s as big as Texas.”

Suddenly this day felt like a circle that ended up back in the bad place where it started. The good stuff in between was getting erased with the kind of broken-down eraser that dips below the metal ring at the end of your pencil and rips right through the paper.

I put down a yellow eight. Bertie put down a yellow two. Dee put down a Draw 4. He snorted.

“Green,” he said.

I picked up four cards and lost my turn. I wondered how much longer until indoor recess was over.

Bertie put down a card. Dee put down a card.

We kept going for what felt like a million minutes. And I thought maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe Ms. Mendoza was right. Maybe Dee had made a positive choice.

“I have a question,” Dee said. And even though he was bent over his cards, he jutted his chin out toward Bertie, so you could tell the question was for her. “Why are you so short?”

I waited for Bertie to say something clever to put Dee in his place and show him who was boss. I waited for her to say something like “That’s enough, you popcorn puff.” Or “Hold the phone, Mr. Trombone.” Or “You can’t play, and have a nice day!” But she would make it clear she did not want him to have a nice day.

Instead, I saw something in Bertie go flat. All the colors went out of her. She looked like she’d already lost the game.

In my head, I said My name is Austin ten times looking at the floor. I said My name is Austin ten times looking at my shoe.