“I’m working after school. Want to do some homework in the back?” Dean asks.
There’s nothing I’d rather do than stay at the store and hide behind a good book in the corner while Dean works. Watch him jump to help a customer, then slide right back to me and read over my shoulder. And on busy days, sneak up to the empty loft upstairs and play music, since his parents have never been able to rent it out.
“I need a ride back, but I can’t stick around,” I say.
Dean looks down. “She doesn’t mean to be like that, you know.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” I lie.
“You sure you won’t come, though?” Dean asks. “I can take you to where you need to go and wait.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
I know he thinks I’ve been avoiding him lately, but it’s just that being at the store’s not the same with his mom watching me all the time. And I’ve got some making up to do.
“I was gonna try to catch Jamal off guard,” I explain. “You know, hold him hostage until he talks to me.”
“Smart.” Dean’s face brightens. “I still don’t get why you did it, though.”
“Not you, too?” I look away. I was hoping to skip this conversation with Dean.
“I got your back, but the way your family looked on TV. They were shocked. My stomach was churning watching it go down. It was like a car accident, and I couldn’t look away.”
Dean’s always on my side. The fact he was hit hard by what I did really seals the deal. I messed up. He’s supported me through all the letters I’ve written to Innocence X and helped strategize ways to get their attention. He knows how much this means to me. The guilt twists in my stomach. I’ve gotta fix things with Jamal.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I thought I’d immediately get a call from Innocence X, and then all would be forgiven, but nothing. Like usual.” I shake my head.
Dean slings his arm around my shoulders. “You’ll fix it. You always do. Come on, grab your books, bell’s gonna ring soon.”
We head to my locker, where Tasha’s lingering, grinning as she watches Dean and me head her way.
“Hey, Dean.”
“What’s up, Tasha?”
“Waiting on this girl. But now I know why Tracy is so late.”
“Yeah,” I say, “because Jamal ditched me again. You seen him?”
“Nah. Not yet. I heard something, though.” Tasha shakes her head but keeps her mouth shut in front of Dean.
“All right, Tracy.” Dean backs up, catching a clue. “I’ll see you later.”
I give him a thankful grin as he walks away. I mouth, Maybe I’ll stop by, and he flashes me a smile.
“Cuteness.” Tasha clicks her tongue as she hands me my books. “I don’t know why y’all don’t just bite the bullet and date. He gets a pass, you know.”
“Oh yeah, why?” I shut the locker and flick her hair.
“Because he’s the finest white boy I’ve ever seen. People would understand.”
“Oh, that’s how that works, huh? You know I’d have every white girl in school thinking they could get with Dean because they’d be mad he’s with me.”
“Please. Those heffas still wouldn’t even think in their wildest dreams y’all was together. You wasting time playing friends. You know that’s why nobody asks you out, anyways. That and Quincy.”
“You stay on that Quincy tip. He don’t want me; I told you to go after him already.”
“Don’t think I didn’t try. He got eyes for everybody but me. And I know it’s because of you. He’s just waiting for his moment to edge right on in between you and Dean.”
“Okay, enough. What was that look you were giving Dean, anyways? Why you want him rushing off?”
“I was in the bathroom and overheard Natalie Hanes is vying for your editor spot.”
“What? She barely has a feature. What makes her think she’s even got a chance?”
“Girl, I don’t know. She was talking about you not being a team player. She’s going to talk to Mr. Kaine, then work them votes against you. She feel she’s got Angela in the bag because you hijacked The Susan Touric Show, and Angela’s pissed.”
“Damn! Angela shouldn’t even get a vote, since she’s graduating. It should be up to this year’s juniors.” Angela will have influence, though; I’ve got to talk to her. She works with Mr. Kaine in the morning for internship credit. He’s the one who wrote her letter of recommendation to Susan Touric. I’m hoping to get one from him, too.
“Thanks, Tasha. I gotta talk to Angela.”
I weave my way down the hall, skipping my own class and going straight to the newsroom, which is just a repurposed classroom with desks set up into stations.
Angela and Chris are in heated debate. His boys, Scott and Justin, are crowded together watching them argue. I know Scott from the track team; he’s a long-distance runner. Used to be a sprinter but wasn’t fast enough. He’s tall and lanky with light brown hair; his neck would blanch in pink-and-white blotches when he’d run. I couldn’t stand him because he was always whining about Coach not being fair by taking him off sprinting and putting him on long distance. Said Coach was being racist against him. Never mind Dean runs the four hundred. But Texas be like that. Chris, Scott, and Justin, always a trio sticking together and not having any nonwhite friends.
I wait until they stop arguing. Chris hugs and kisses Angela. Her response is blank. Like she didn’t want him touching her. Chris doesn’t seem to notice, just takes off with the guys as the bell rings.
I step into the classroom, catching Angela by surprise.
“Mr. Kaine’s out this morning.” Angela shoves her heart-covered cell phone into her bag.
“I came to talk to you.”
“Listen, whatever happened is over. You should talk to your brother about the interview.”
“He won’t talk to me.”
“Well, I can see why. You ruined his interview.” She loops her blond hair behind her ear. “Your approach needs work. I tried to tell you, but you blew me off last staff meeting.”
“You wouldn’t get it.” I shake my head. “No one listens to me. You’re all a clique on the newspaper.”
“We’re not a clique. You just don’t try hard enough to get along.”