couldn’t tell her how it was at school. “We need the money with the hospital bills and everything.” And I needed to fill my day somehow .
“Ashla, there’s no way we’d let you take a job during class time, even if you could get one. What are you thinking?”
“How are we going to pay the hospital bills?”
“We’ll pay them somehow. But you’re not missing anymore school. Promise me.”
I nodded miserably and then, just to make things a lot worse, my grandmother appeared behind Mom and barked out her opinion. “She should work, Laine. Pay for her stupidity instead of unloading all those bills on you and Bryan. She needs to grow up and take some responsibility instead of acting like a little Miss Prima Donna.”
Mom ignored her. “Ashla, promise. No more missing school.”
“Alright. Alright,” I said, slipping by Mom and then my grandmother.
“Lazy, good for nothing tramp…” she shot at my back. I bit back a remark and headed upstairs.
The following day Celeste and I walked into the school, hoping no one would notice me. No such luck. We did the death walk down the corridor. Dirty looks followed us. A few kids elbowed us as they passed. A freshman stuck his foot out to trip me, but I hopped over it. I tried not to hear the snide remarks. All I had to do was get through the morning so Mom wouldn’t get a call from the office.
I made my way to the first class and the room went instantly quiet as Rand Riley, huge and intimidating, left his desk and walked menacingly toward me, his colorless eyes boring through me. He was unanimously considered the meanest, toughest, most deranged guy in the school. Even the Tarantulas avoided him. Worse, it was well known that he was an avid hockey fan. “Hey man, looky here. Just looky here.” His fist shot out and my books and papers went flying. I backed away from him, and turning, I bent down to retrieve everything. His boot struck my butt with so much force I flew forward, my footing gone. I slid across the floor stopping when my shoulder struck a desk leg.
I stayed there a few seconds, but instead of collecting myself, a dam broke. Red hot anger roared through me like a freight train. I pushed off the floor, whirled on him like a feral cat, and whacked him so hard across the face with my text book that his head snapped sideways.
The room went deathly quiet. With painful slowness, Rand turned back to look at me, his hand rubbing the huge red mark above his hairy cheek. His eyes lost focus. His right fist shot out again, this time plowing into my stomach, sending me backward against the wall. I collapsed . . . lungs paralyzed. I couldn’t get air in or out. I couldn’t breathe! Nor could I call out for help. I was terrified.
Mr. Harrison, our math teacher, came into the room. His bearded face swayed in front of me, his lips forming words. Finally, I got a breath of air and struggled upright. Scooping up my books, papers, and backpack, I staggered out of the room, muttering that I was going to the nurse’s station.
Nauseous, I bolted down the hall to the girl’s bathroom, burst through the heavy door and into a stall. Slamming the stall door behind me, I leaned against it, panting, sweaty, and ill. It was a relief to be alone. A minute or so later, I heard the outer door close softly and sensed that someone had entered the washroom. No footsteps. No sound. Was I mistaken? A familiar scent wafted up my sensitive nose, but I couldn’t place it. A movement near the floor caught my eye and I glanced down. The back side of a cell phone! Click, click, click. The camera !
Lightning fast, I grabbed the wrist and pulled it upward against wall. There was a shriek. Furious, I yanked with all my might. The phone hit the floor and her other hand slid out to grab it. I kicked the cell away and let go of her wrist, at the same time rushing out of the stall. She tried to escape. I grabbed her long hair and jerked her backward hard. Her face looked up at me. Stunned,
“Ashla, there’s no way we’d let you take a job during class time, even if you could get one. What are you thinking?”
“How are we going to pay the hospital bills?”
“We’ll pay them somehow. But you’re not missing anymore school. Promise me.”
I nodded miserably and then, just to make things a lot worse, my grandmother appeared behind Mom and barked out her opinion. “She should work, Laine. Pay for her stupidity instead of unloading all those bills on you and Bryan. She needs to grow up and take some responsibility instead of acting like a little Miss Prima Donna.”
Mom ignored her. “Ashla, promise. No more missing school.”
“Alright. Alright,” I said, slipping by Mom and then my grandmother.
“Lazy, good for nothing tramp…” she shot at my back. I bit back a remark and headed upstairs.
The following day Celeste and I walked into the school, hoping no one would notice me. No such luck. We did the death walk down the corridor. Dirty looks followed us. A few kids elbowed us as they passed. A freshman stuck his foot out to trip me, but I hopped over it. I tried not to hear the snide remarks. All I had to do was get through the morning so Mom wouldn’t get a call from the office.
I made my way to the first class and the room went instantly quiet as Rand Riley, huge and intimidating, left his desk and walked menacingly toward me, his colorless eyes boring through me. He was unanimously considered the meanest, toughest, most deranged guy in the school. Even the Tarantulas avoided him. Worse, it was well known that he was an avid hockey fan. “Hey man, looky here. Just looky here.” His fist shot out and my books and papers went flying. I backed away from him, and turning, I bent down to retrieve everything. His boot struck my butt with so much force I flew forward, my footing gone. I slid across the floor stopping when my shoulder struck a desk leg.
I stayed there a few seconds, but instead of collecting myself, a dam broke. Red hot anger roared through me like a freight train. I pushed off the floor, whirled on him like a feral cat, and whacked him so hard across the face with my text book that his head snapped sideways.
The room went deathly quiet. With painful slowness, Rand turned back to look at me, his hand rubbing the huge red mark above his hairy cheek. His eyes lost focus. His right fist shot out again, this time plowing into my stomach, sending me backward against the wall. I collapsed . . . lungs paralyzed. I couldn’t get air in or out. I couldn’t breathe! Nor could I call out for help. I was terrified.
Mr. Harrison, our math teacher, came into the room. His bearded face swayed in front of me, his lips forming words. Finally, I got a breath of air and struggled upright. Scooping up my books, papers, and backpack, I staggered out of the room, muttering that I was going to the nurse’s station.
Nauseous, I bolted down the hall to the girl’s bathroom, burst through the heavy door and into a stall. Slamming the stall door behind me, I leaned against it, panting, sweaty, and ill. It was a relief to be alone. A minute or so later, I heard the outer door close softly and sensed that someone had entered the washroom. No footsteps. No sound. Was I mistaken? A familiar scent wafted up my sensitive nose, but I couldn’t place it. A movement near the floor caught my eye and I glanced down. The back side of a cell phone! Click, click, click. The camera !
Lightning fast, I grabbed the wrist and pulled it upward against wall. There was a shriek. Furious, I yanked with all my might. The phone hit the floor and her other hand slid out to grab it. I kicked the cell away and let go of her wrist, at the same time rushing out of the stall. She tried to escape. I grabbed her long hair and jerked her backward hard. Her face looked up at me. Stunned,
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