“It was beautifully written—which isn’t really the point. And I’m terribly sorry about your brother—which also isn’t really the point. I just wanted you to know that I’m on your side. If you need to talk, or if it all gets to be too much, or if you need help with schoolwork—anything. I’m here. I think you like to work things out on your own, so I won’t offer more than that. But I’m offering that.”

He gazed at me steadily, his eyes a little less steely “Okay. Thanks.” He fell silent again.

I took a breath. “I understand you’ve been spending a little time with Mr. Washington as well. Extra practices and things. Is that helping?” If you only knew, kid, I thought.

A shutter came down behind his eyes. “I guess. My times are getting better, anyway.” A small smile. “We raced the other day and I beat him.”

“He told me. Good for you.”

He scooted back in his chair, pleased. “I don’t know. We don’t talk that much. About school stuff. He’s always trying to … to get me to be like him, I think.” He paused, looked fearful, as though he’d said too much. Then he decided to go on. “Yeah. To get me to be like him. I don’t think I can do that.”

Once again I wasn’t breathing quite right. “No reason you should. You need to be who you are. That’s all we can expect from you.” I paused. “I know he wants to help, though. If he can. Do you want to talk about anything else? Ask me anything?”

“No. I’m done.”

“Then I guess we’re finished. Remember what I said, though.”

“I will.” He took the draft of the speech from me and stood to leave. I turned back to my desk. But at the door, he paused. “Ms. Hansen?”

“Yes.” I half turned, facing him.

“You think I belong here?”

I looked dead into his eyes, seeing how much hung on my answer. “Yes, I do. I wish there were more kids like you.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Washington … You know why I feel funny around him? Because I don’t think he wants me here.” His voice was thick with anger and something else—sadness, I think.

I knew as a teacher, I should rise to Jerome’s defense. But I couldn’t. I suddenly remembered the look on his face when the boys were dancing. I said nothing, and Rashid went on. “I saw you with him at the dance. That’s why I need to know where you stand. I need to know who’s got my back.”

I nodded. The silence in the room grew larger. “You can trust me, Rashid,” I finally said.