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bus.” 
She was usually quiet about happenings on the bus.  She let the kids smoke, and
she rarely chastised anyone for anything.  But she was letting Johnny have it.
    “I’m sorry, Mrs. D.  I’ll never
say it again.”  Johnny couldn’t have sounded less sincere.
    Mrs. Decker was having no part of
his apology.  “If you want to apologize, you need to tell it to Dominique –
then you can ride my bus again.  If you don’t tell her you’re sorry, I’m not
letting you back on.  Now get off.  Otherwise, I’ll have Max throw you off.”
    Max stood up, and I believed he
would really throw Johnny off the bus.  He looked very angry. 
    Johnny didn’t give him a chance. 
He got off on his own.  “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I apologize to that
mulatto bitch,” he yelled.  “I don’t have to ride your bus, Old Lady.  I don’t
ride with nigger-lovers anyway.”  Johnny flipped Mrs. Decker a bird,
turned around, and walked away. 
    From that day forward, things
were different.  For one thing, Johnny never rode our bus again, and I never
saw him hang out with Max again.  I was never able to tell Dominique or Aurelia
about the event – I couldn’t bring myself to hurt their feelings like that –
but I promised myself that I would somehow make up for the cruel words Johnny
said.  Even if Dominique and Aurelia never knew.
    The biggest impact was on my view
of Johnny and Max.  I now detested Johnny for his asinine bigoted behavior,
and, because Max put his principles above his friendship with Johnny, I loved
him even more than I had before.
    Another plus: this was the
closest thing to a race riot that ever happened during my years at WMHS.  My
worries and fears began to alleviate when I discovered that most of the kids on
my bus were not racist at all, and I felt that was a good representation of the
school.  WMHS was beginning to look like an okay school after all.
     
    Olivia and I decided to go
shopping for Max’s gift.  We took a city bus to the mall and spent most of the
day just looking around.  We tried on expensive clothes in exclusive shops and
pretended to be rich girls planning for a weekend yachting trip.  We dined on
free samples and “Beef-on-a-Stick” at Hickory Farms, and then we had a
refreshing Orange Julius to quench our thirsts.  Afterwards, we window-shopped
the jewelry stores and pointed out which engagement rings we wanted our
imaginary boyfriends to buy us.
    Suddenly, Olivia let out a little
squeal.  Rushing to her side to assure myself that she was all right, I saw it
out of the corner of my eye.  Olivia had found the perfect gift for Max – a
sterling silver ID bracelet.  We rushed inside the jewelry store and quickly
rushed back out when we heard that the price was sixty-seven dollars.  I felt
deflated, but I didn’t have twenty dollars, much less sixty-seven.
    “Let’s look around for other
stores that have jewelry.  Maybe we can find something cheaper.”  Olivia was
always full of good advice.
    We visited all the jewelry stores
first, and then we tried the department stores.  The cheapest bracelet we found
was in National Jewelers, and the price was still forty-seven dollars.  Just as
I was about to give up, Olivia remembered that there was a Montgomery Wards
just across the street from the mall.   I pinned all my hopes on that store,
and we headed over there.
    We headed straight to the jewelry
department.  I saw a young man shifting jewelry pieces around inside the
jewelry counter, and there was an old woman standing next to him.  He was quite
handsome – jet black hair, blue eyes, and a firm jaw – but his immaculate suit
and matching tie intimidated me.  I guessed that he was some sort of manager
and that he’d try to get rid of a kid that probably had no money.  On the other
hand, the woman was wearing a slightly wrinkled flowered dress, and her glasses
were hanging around her neck so she wouldn’t misplace them.  From