Spencer walks over and stands in front of us. His eyes make a slow perusal over my body. The slime. Cade kicks out, forcing Spencer to jump back. Spencer curls his lips into a sneer and motions to McNeil’s office. “Suspended or expelled? I vote expelled.”

“Shut up, Spencer,” Mason says. “Just back off.” For some reason, Spencer listens. But when Spencer returns to Mason and Kerrianne, he whispers something to them. Kerrianne laughs, and Mason balls up his hand. The look that Mason gives Kerrianne, then Spencer, is murderous.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Kerrianne says it more to Mason than to us. “But—”

“But what?” he chides. She closes her mouth.

Principal McNeil’s door opens. Cade and I stand. Mason says, “I’ll see you later.” I have no idea if he’s talking to all of us or only to Kerrianne and Spencer because Mr. Bartley ushers us back in.

Chapter 18: Cade

Before Logan and I can take our seats, Principal McNeil pushes away from his desk and stands like he’s on his way out. “We were impressed with your presentation,” he says, “and appreciate your hard work and diligence.”

I hear a “but” coming, and my heart sinks faster than a rock tossed into Lake Ontario.

“I’m happy to say we’ve reached a reasonable compromise. Everyone in class will have the option to either proceed with Mr. Bartley’s debate and opinion paper or they can research the Fort Ontario Emergency Refugee Shelter and immigration laws alternative. Mr. Bartley will announce this in class today and have the requirements prepared in a handout.”

He smiles at us. It’s not friendly or kind, but oozes authority and confidence. “I’m certain you’ll both do an outstanding job on the assignment.” He motions for Mr. Bartley to open the door. “We’ve kept you long enough. Thank you for coming in to discuss your concerns.”

Logan and I don’t move. Her jaw drops.

Principal McNeil steps forward, gestures for us to leave. “I hope you’ll have a great rest of the day.”

Dismissed.

No more discussion.

Final decision.

Done.

Stunned, we silently shuffle out. My head throbs. This is so surreal. Compromise? No, that was to get us to shut up.

As we enter the hallway, Miss Wather approaches us. “How did it go?”

Dazed, Logan continues walking down the hall. I can’t find my voice. Miss Wather studies my face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” But I’m not. I fold my copy of our presentation into fourths, shove it into my pocket, then hurry to catch Logan.

She fumbles with her lock combination, spinning the dial with a vengeance.

I lean against the locker next to hers.

“After everything we did, after everything we said, they still didn’t get it. How could they not get it?” she asks, yanking on her locker handle. “Argh!” She gives the bottom end panel a kick.