“It could not be over, too,” Kenzie said. She smiled. “Come on. I’ve done this before. Again and again. I did it during the leadership camps and the exercises in San Diego. I did it during the branding in LA and I kind of did it with the Baltimore Wards.”

“Did what?” I asked.

“Got left behind. Or sidelined and ignored. The reasons were good, or maybe I’m a stupid, gullible idiot and the reasons are bad, and I believed them anyway.”

“I liked your contributions to the group, I’d want you to stick around,” I said.

“I know you mean well, Victoria, but this is the way it always goes,” Kenzie said. She shrugged. “The compliments, the softening of the blow. I think you’re nice and you’re trying to do the right thing. But again and again, because I’m a kid, or because I’m small and weak, or because I’m a girl, or because I’m black, or because I have school, or because I’m vulnerable, or I’m annoying, or because they want to be careful around me because I have problems, or because I’ve said the wrong things because I’m an idiot a lot of the time, or because—because whatever the reason, good or bad, hateful or kind…”

She trailed off there. She was staring down at the ground, head down where I couldn’t see it. She huffed out a small laugh.

Her hands were on either side of her hips, gripping the sides of the plastic chair.

“Articulate what you want, Kenzie,” Mrs. Yamada said. “Assertive. Not passive, not passive-aggressive.”

“I don’t want to be left behind,” Kenzie said. She was speaking more slowly, deliberately. A dramatic change of pace from her usual output. “I’m experienced in this, so when I say I think I see things going this way, it would be nice if people believed me.”

“More assertive, Kenzie,” Mrs. Yamada said.

“Trust me,” Kenzie said, with emphasis. She looked up, flashed a smile at me, then shrugged. “You say you’re experienced in cape stuff and I think it shows and that’s amazing. I’m experienced in this and I’m really tired of this song and dance.”

“I understand,” I said. “I’m sorry to have touched on something that sensitive. I should have been more considerate.”

“It’s not you,” she said. “It’s me. It’s a regular thing. I don’t blame you. It’s the way I am, it makes people act this way around me. And—”

She drew in a deep breath.