not
strong like Madison.
I wish I was content just being me, Kiara Westford, speech issues
and all. Fifteen minutes pass before I walk to the sink and look at my
reflection in the mirror. I look like I’ve been crying. That, or I have a
very bad cold. I wet paper towels and dab them on my eyes, attempting
to erase the puffiness. After a few minutes, I think I look halfway
decent. Nobody will know I’ve just been crying. I hope.
The door to the locker room opens, startling me.
“Anybody here?” one of the janitors yells out.
“Yeah.”
“You’d better get to class because the police are here. They’re
doing a drug search.”
ELEVEN : Carlos
In bio, Shevelenko finishes a lecture on dominant and recessive
genes. She has us draw square boxes and tells us to write different
scenarios about eye-color traits in the offspring of humans.
“I’m havin’ a couple guys over tonight,” Ram says as we work. “You
wanna come?”
Even though Ram is a rich kid, he’s pretty cool. The past week he’s
given me notes from the first two weeks of school, and his stories
about going skiing last winter are hilarious.
“¿A qué hora?” I ask him.
“Around six or so.” He rips out a piece of paper from his notebook
and starts writing on it.
“Here’s my address.”
“I don’t have a car. Is it far?”
He turns the paper over and hands me his pen. “No problem, I’ll
just pick you up. Where do you live?”
As I write down Alex’s address, Shevelenko walks over to our table.
“Carlos, did you get all the notes from Ramiro?”
“Yeah.”
“Good, because there’s a test next week.” She’s handing out
worksheets when five beeps echo over the loudspeaker.
The entire room seems to gasp at once.
“What’s that?” I question.
Ram looks shocked. “Holy shit, man. We’re in lockdown.”
“What’s ‘lockdown’?”
“If it’s some psycho with a gun, I’m jumping out the window,”
another student named John says. “You guys with me?”
Ram rolls his eyes. “It’s not someone with a gun, dude. That would
be three long beeps instead of five short ones. This is a drug lockdown.
It must not be routine, ’cause I haven’t heard anything about it.”
John seems amused. “Call your mom, Ram. Ask if she knows what’s
up.”
Drug lockdown? I sure hope Nick Glass doesn’t bring his pu-pu
platter of drugs to school with him. I look over at Madison, who came
late to class. She pulls her phone from her purse and starts texting
someone underneath the lab table.
“Everyone calm down,” Shevelenko says. “Most of you have been
through this before. In case you haven’t guessed it, we’re in lockdown.
No student can leave the building.”
Madison raises her hand. “Can I go to the bathroom?”
“Sorry, Madison.”
“But I really have to go! I promise I’ll be quick.”
“Lockdown rules state no wandering in the halls.” Shevelenko
glances at her computer. “Take this time to study for the test next
wednesday.”
Fifteen minutes later a cop knocks on Shevelenko’s door.
“Who do you think got busted?” a guy named Frank whispers as our
teacher meets the officer outside the room.
Ram holds his hands up. “Don’t look at me, man. I’m not risking
getting kicked off the soccer team. Besides, my mom would have me
arrested herself if she found out I was doing illegal shit.”
Shevelenko walks back in the room. “Carlos Fuentes,” she says loud
and clear.
¡Carajo! She called my name. “Yeah?”
“Come here.”
“Dude, you are so busted,” Frank says.
I walk up to Shevelenko, and all I can focus on is her mustache
hairs moving up and down as she says, “There are some people who want
to talk to you. Follow me.”
I know everyone in my bio class knows why I’ve been called out.
Thing is, I don’t have any drugs in my pockets or in my locker. Maybe
they found out I came from Mexico and want to deport me, although I
was born in Illinois
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