“Didn’t you hear me?”

“I heard you. I’m not talking to you.”

“Is this going to be one of them old people stories?”

“I’m only thirty-two. And like I said, I’m not talking to you.” Mr. Blackmon makes a show of flipping through his papers.

“Who you talking to, then?”

“Not you. We wouldn’t want anyone thinking we talk. Anyone could just pop in. And I wouldn’t want anyone to get the idea that we might be friends.”

That stung more than I thought.

As if on cue, the door opens and Brionna strolls in. She pauses at my desk, turns her head away from me as if she sniffed something foul, and wanders to Mrs. Horner’s desk. She tosses her meds back in a quick swallow, grabs the remote, and flops on the couch. Once the screen burns to life, Twon and Rodrigo immediately sandwich her.

“Now that See No Evil, Hear No Evil, and Speak No Evil are all accounted for, I can keep going.” Mr. Blackmon buries his nose in his paperwork. “I’m not going to run a line of bull by you. I had a dad. Big dude. His hand was the size of my butt. I know because he spanked me. Once. Most times he only had to give me that look and I knew he meant business. He and I were never close, not in the way I wanted. We didn’t talk. He didn’t know anything about me. Not the music I listened to, not the books I read, not even the teams I was into. It got to where I thought not only didn’t he like me, but somehow, by the very fact of me being born, I inconvenienced him.

“On the other hand, however, I did have a teacher, my Sunday school teacher actually, who did take an interest in me. He was into comic books and horror movies and basketball. Things I’m into even today.”

“Uh-huh,” I say absently.

“Who you think keeps Rodrigo supplied with comics?”

“So you trying to pay it forward or something? ’Cause you know, this story’s really touching me.” I tap my heart. “Right here.”

“Yeah, that was starting to sound corny to me, too, but you know I can’t stop once I get going.” Mr. Blackmon glances up from his notebook. “But seriously. I heard you. You’re right. I do try a little too hard because I want you all to know you have someone on your side.”

“I think we get that. You just need to give us room to do our thing, too. Some of this we have to figure out on our own.”

Mr. Blackmon lets that sink in for a minute. “Anyway, you may be interested in knowing that Nehemiah’s grandmother is coming to pick him up from the nurse’s office. He’ll be all right. His wrist may be sprained; otherwise, all the damage was just bruises and scrapes. Strictly superficial.”

“I was supposed to have his back, but . . .” My voice trails off before anymore accidental truth slips out.