I ask. How can adults be so blind? Quinn is a coward. He doesn’t even speed. Just ‘cause my dad will assume the worst if Mrs. Burns tells him Quinn is “harassing me,” and just because the Pastor will make hell for the principal in the same way he did when Molly cheated off my final, doesn’t make this conversation okay.
“Violence against women is a very big deal,” says Mrs. Burns in a rough voice. “You need to take care of this now, Kat. Make a stand before it gets worse.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” I point out. “So what if he broke one stupid window?”
“It was an accident,” Quinn mumbles, staring into his fingers.
“How do you accidently break a window?” Principal Bates asks.
“It wasn’t premeditated, okay?” Mr. Nice says. “I didn’t wake up this morning and think: Gee, I’d love to throw a book today, break a window and get expelled.”
Principal Bates stares daggers at Quinn. “Don’t you dare cop an attitude with me, Mr. Walker. This is a safety issue. You don’t go around throwing heavy objects in crowded classrooms. You could’ve hurt someone. Then there’s the matter of the broken glass.”
“I told you I didn’t do it on purpose!” he says.
“So you want me to believe that some other person grabbed your arm, pulled it back and made you throw the book against your will?”
Quinn’s head snaps up. “Of course I threw it, but I didn’t mean to hit the window. I’m sorry.” He shuts his eyes as if the words are painful. And that’s when it hits me: I could own his ass.
“Don’t suspend him,” I say. “I’ll pay for the window.”
Principal Bates crosses his arms across his chest. He shakes his head. “We’re not going to punish you for something hedid.”
“Fess up, Kat,” Mrs. Burns says. “Stop enabling him. Admit he’s been harassing—”
“He’s not harassing me!” I nearly shout.
Mrs. Burns frowns, unable to move past her notion of women as helpless victims. “You’re free to go, Ms. Jackson,” the principal says.
As soon as I stand, Mrs. Burns puts a hand on my shoulder. “Kat?”
I turn.
Her eyes are pitying. “Protecting every guy who treats you badly won’t bring your brother back.” I can’t believe she’s using more psycho-babble bullshit on me.
“You know nothing about my brother,” I say.
“Your dad filled me in, so I know more than you think. I know he cut you down and made you fix his messes.”
How dare she stick her nose in my business! “Go to hell,” I say, hitting the doorframe on my way out. I see John a few doors down and rush to catch up with him, too annoyed by Mrs. Burns to glance back at her face.
Shrinks are idiots.
11
Quinn
There’s only one period left before the end of school. As I open my locker in the empty hall and fill my bag with every textbook I have, I think of what happened with Principal Bates. He thinks Kat’s this innocent girl that I’ve gone out of my way to torment, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Katarina Jackson is out to hurt me, I swear it.
As I zip my bag shut, I hear footsteps shuffling toward me. When I lift the heavy bag to my shoulder and turn around, Mike Duvall is scowling down at me.
Crap!
“You messin’ around with my girlfriend?” he says, puffing out his chest like a bull ready to charge. Bulls don’t have clean shaven faces, but they do have steam coming from their nostrils. And Mike’s have flared so wide they take up almost half his face.
He laughs in a bitter way, and I take a step back. My shoulder rams into the edge of my locker.
“You’re awfully loaded down, Quinny boy,” he says, knocking my backpack onto the floor. “And while everyone’s entitled to be stupid, you abuse the privilege.”
“You’re one to talk,” I say, slamming my locker shut and picking up my bag. I try not to show my fear because guys like Mike can smell it. Instead I turn on my heels and walk down the hall.
“Stay away from Kat,” he yells,
“Violence against women is a very big deal,” says Mrs. Burns in a rough voice. “You need to take care of this now, Kat. Make a stand before it gets worse.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” I point out. “So what if he broke one stupid window?”
“It was an accident,” Quinn mumbles, staring into his fingers.
“How do you accidently break a window?” Principal Bates asks.
“It wasn’t premeditated, okay?” Mr. Nice says. “I didn’t wake up this morning and think: Gee, I’d love to throw a book today, break a window and get expelled.”
Principal Bates stares daggers at Quinn. “Don’t you dare cop an attitude with me, Mr. Walker. This is a safety issue. You don’t go around throwing heavy objects in crowded classrooms. You could’ve hurt someone. Then there’s the matter of the broken glass.”
“I told you I didn’t do it on purpose!” he says.
“So you want me to believe that some other person grabbed your arm, pulled it back and made you throw the book against your will?”
Quinn’s head snaps up. “Of course I threw it, but I didn’t mean to hit the window. I’m sorry.” He shuts his eyes as if the words are painful. And that’s when it hits me: I could own his ass.
“Don’t suspend him,” I say. “I’ll pay for the window.”
Principal Bates crosses his arms across his chest. He shakes his head. “We’re not going to punish you for something hedid.”
“Fess up, Kat,” Mrs. Burns says. “Stop enabling him. Admit he’s been harassing—”
“He’s not harassing me!” I nearly shout.
Mrs. Burns frowns, unable to move past her notion of women as helpless victims. “You’re free to go, Ms. Jackson,” the principal says.
As soon as I stand, Mrs. Burns puts a hand on my shoulder. “Kat?”
I turn.
Her eyes are pitying. “Protecting every guy who treats you badly won’t bring your brother back.” I can’t believe she’s using more psycho-babble bullshit on me.
“You know nothing about my brother,” I say.
“Your dad filled me in, so I know more than you think. I know he cut you down and made you fix his messes.”
How dare she stick her nose in my business! “Go to hell,” I say, hitting the doorframe on my way out. I see John a few doors down and rush to catch up with him, too annoyed by Mrs. Burns to glance back at her face.
Shrinks are idiots.
11
Quinn
There’s only one period left before the end of school. As I open my locker in the empty hall and fill my bag with every textbook I have, I think of what happened with Principal Bates. He thinks Kat’s this innocent girl that I’ve gone out of my way to torment, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Katarina Jackson is out to hurt me, I swear it.
As I zip my bag shut, I hear footsteps shuffling toward me. When I lift the heavy bag to my shoulder and turn around, Mike Duvall is scowling down at me.
Crap!
“You messin’ around with my girlfriend?” he says, puffing out his chest like a bull ready to charge. Bulls don’t have clean shaven faces, but they do have steam coming from their nostrils. And Mike’s have flared so wide they take up almost half his face.
He laughs in a bitter way, and I take a step back. My shoulder rams into the edge of my locker.
“You’re awfully loaded down, Quinny boy,” he says, knocking my backpack onto the floor. “And while everyone’s entitled to be stupid, you abuse the privilege.”
“You’re one to talk,” I say, slamming my locker shut and picking up my bag. I try not to show my fear because guys like Mike can smell it. Instead I turn on my heels and walk down the hall.
“Stay away from Kat,” he yells,
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