“So, you’re what, Middle Eastern or something?” Kyle asked, still fiddling with the cube.

“No,” Karina said flatly, offering nothing else.

“What then? You’ve got something different going on.” He pointed his finger in a circling gesture around his own face.

Karina glanced up from her phone to glare at him.

“Hey, no offense. I’m one-eighth Navajo, even though I pretty much look white.”

She waited for a moment before answering. “My dad’s white, my mom’s from India. But I’m pretty much white, like you.” The alarm trilled on her phone. “Probably the only thing we have in common.” Karina slid the phone into her jeans pocket as Kyle struggled to get out of the sunken beanbag, then followed her out the door.

* * *

“The school called today,” Mom said when they sat down for dinner, the two of them perched on the kitchen stools next to each other. “They said you’ve missed some classes.”

Karina put a forkful of green beans in her mouth and chewed. “Class. Singular.”

“Don’t be smart.” Mom was watching her. “You think that’s acceptable, just deciding not to go to some of your classes?”

“Mom, it’s just P.E. Not a real class.” The required P.E. uniform consisted of a gray T-shirt emblazoned with the school logo, and athletic shorts cut high on the leg—high enough to now reveal the series of cuts that had been extending further down her inner thigh. Karina had realized this a couple of weeks ago when she was changing in the girls’ locker room bathroom. She begged off class that day by telling the coach she had bad menstrual cramps.

“Apparently, it’s been happening for two weeks now. Is that right?”

Karina gave a small nod of her head. “It won’t affect my grades, Mom. No one cares if I get a B in physical education.” After being excused from that first class, the next time she wore her longer bike shorts. The coach let it go that day but told her she’d have to be in full uniform the next class if she didn’t want to be marked absent. She considered covering the cuts with a bandage or wearing leggings under her shorts, but that would only draw more attention. So, she just decided to stop going to class.

“I care,” Mom said, finally serving herself some food. “I care if you’re not going to class when you’re supposed to. First, it’s one class, then another. And what are you even doing during that time you’re supposed to be in class? Smoking? Drinking? Going off campus?”

“Mom! No. Nothing like that.” Karina’s fork clattered to her plate. “It’s just one stupid class and the coach is bad, and I just don’t like it. Why do I have to take P.E. anyway? It’s an elective and Dad made me take it, but I hate it. I hate it!” she said, louder. “Can’t you talk to him? I can still drop the class and use the free period as a study hall.”