“Well, what I said was ‘fuck you, too,’” said Wynezra. “But what I meant was, go buy a shirt that fits, you irrelevant fucktrumpet. No one wants to see your knobby little nipples.”

By the time Jayden started charging Wynezra, Ziggy intervened like a giant human rubber band, slingshot into the fray.

“Okay, okay, okay,” said Ziggy, hands raised. “Let’s cool our jets, yeah? Just simmer on down now. Yeah, that’s it. Let’s not get detention all over our detention.”

Wynezra sat down, not giving a microscopic fuck more than she did fifteen seconds ago. Jayden, meanwhile, looked like an irritated cat—spine arched, face pulled back, every hair on his body an exclamation point. Finally, with great suppression of douchery, he managed to sit down without spouting a lame insult out of his douche nozzle.

Let me just say: I had never seen me act like such a badass in my entire life.

It was just a little bit discouraging to remind myself that it wasn’t me.

Holden, looking like every truth he knew in the world was false, sat down quietly. I started to sit down—a seat away from Holden—but Imogen swiftly butted in front of me. Stole the seat. Winked and wobbled her head at the seat between her and Holden.

I sighed and sat down.

It was only now—after Willow’s presence had fully settled—that I was able to absorb everyone else in attendance. There were fourteen other kids—eighteen of us total—most of whom were not terribly surprising. The ones I recognized included:

• Tucker Cook—local redneck and aspiring pyromaniac. He was a wiry, freckled, blond-haired menace who got in trouble last year for “having a Harry Potter fight” with his older brothers in the school parking lot. What they were actually doing was shooting one another with Roman candles. But, to be fair, Tucker kept yelling, “Stupefy!” and “Avada Kedavra!”

• Daisy Munk—she was huge. And I don’t mean fat. She was Piles Fork’s very own Brienne of Tarth. She was devastatingly huge, and even more quiet. So when the entire football team decided that slapping Daisy’s ass was fun, she said nothing. When it became their new official side-sport, and they started keeping score, keeping tally on a whiteboard in the boys’ locker room, she said nothing. When she finally reached a breaking point, grabbed running back Nick Swenson’s arm, and broke it on the nearest doorframe, she said nothing. When rumors started spreading that the violence was the result of months of sexual harassment, and she was asked to testify at a school board meeting… Well, you get the idea. With no victim testimony, there was no way to hold the boys accountable, and only Daisy was punished.