Ms. Grenham is not exactly everyone’s favorite teacher. For a guidance counselor, she often seems very unapproachable. She walks around with her eyebrows knit together, like she’s having the worst time of her life. I’ve never really dealt with her before though.

“So, Nishat,” she begins slowly, taking me in. I shift in my seat, and the chair creaks under my weight. I stare at the poster behind Ms. Grenham’s head—it says “The World is Your Oyster” and has a picture of an oyster smack bang in the middle. It’s only one of several motivational posters hung all over her office. They look especially odd against the bright orange walls, like the office is trying a little too hard to be happy. It just makes me feel out of place.

“Principal Murphy said you were having some trouble. Your parents brought it to her attention.” She leans forward. “I hope you know that the school has a zero tolerance policy. If someone is bothering you, they’ll be dealt with seriously.”

I already know what their zero tolerance policy is actually like. Everyone who’s spent the last few years being harassed by Chyna knows.

“I’m fine.”

“There was a message sent around about you. Do you know who sent it?” Ms. Grenham slips a phone out of her pocket and shows me the bright screen with a screenshot of a text on it. It’s exactly as Priti described it—the words dripping with a kind of hatred I never imagined someone could feel for me. For a moment, all I can wonder is, could the Flávia at the party really have sent this message?

“It’s not important,” I mumble, ducking my head and not meeting Ms. Grenham’s eyes. “It was probably just a joke or something.”

“In ill taste,” she insists. “I can’t help you, Nishat, if you don’t help me.”

I can’t stand the way she says my name: Neesh-hat, like I’m a niche hat.

“I just think it’s better if we forget about it,” I say. “It’ll be yesterday’s news soon.” There will be somebody else to taunt soon enough. I know how the food chain here works. Plus, I already know that the most Ms. Grenham will do is give Chyna and Flávia a slap on the wrist. I’m pretty sure I can do better than that.

Ms. Grenham doesn’t seem particularly impressed by my decision, but she nods anyway. “If that’s how you feel.”

I take that as my cue to leave. I mutter a quick “thank you” and slip out of her office quickly. I’m turning the corner toward the main hallway when Priti almost runs into me. She shoots me a glare and I notice that she’s huffing like she’s been running.