Blame The Weeds (gxg)

6

June was on our heels, but for all the misty mornings and blossoming flowers, all I wanted was for the light to come back into Luke's eyes. And a good night's sleep. Neither seemed reasonable anymore. It appeared that all June would bring was another breeze off the coast.

As I trekked to school, all the potholes on Blackwater Road were swelled, ready for yellow rain boots to splash in. Luke and I used to scour the town for the most neglected streets, finding the deepest puddles. We'd mapped them on poster board once before an infrastructure bill was passed and our town received a makeover. After that, we grew up. I dodged the few remaining potholes, careful not to wet my running shoes. If I did, my feet would make a maggot faint. Ahead, South High came into view behind the fog, a looming brick building more about controlling young minds than growing them. Once, Luke had said that our school was not the billions of bricks it was made from, but the million hearts whose dreams had lived inside. That the walls of our school carried more stars than the night sky over the Atlantic. Bullshit. As I marched South Seabrook's concrete walkway, I took each step with malice. I didn't mind the anger so much because it was my friend. Seeing red was better than feeling nothing at all.

~

For the hour, I wondered how far I could bend my pencil before it broke. My knee bounced, my jaw clenched, and I pushed with my thumbs against the splintering yellow-painted wood. It couldn't have been much further—

"Miss Barone," said Reddi. No, I wouldn't answer. Not to her. Not today. "Miss. Barone." The wood groaned under my palms, straining to keep together. The pointy part bit into my skin. "Miss Barone!" Ah, there—a small-scale give in its integrity. I studied how the yellow paint split from the centre like a little extant volcano.

"Psst, Kar!"

"No," I said because I was so close to breaking it.

"Kareena Barone!" Reddi shrieked.

And there was my perfect crack!

I dropped the pieces, looking up. She was red and splotchy in all the wrong, angry places. I felt the gaze of the rest of the class like little cold fingers on my back.

Freya cleared her throat and subtly pointed to the board. There was a discussion question scrawled in yellow chalk. I had no time to read before Miss Reddi snapped her fingers, suddenly only inches away.

"I've been calling your name, Miss Barone. Quite a few times. Too many times." She huffed, crossing her arms. "I need an answer, Kareena."

I was acutely aware I had everyone's attention whether I wanted it or not. My breathing bottomed out. My heart quickened.

"I don't know."

"I am sick of your inattention in my class. Answer. Right now."

Freya said, "Miss Reddi, maybe you could ask someone else."

"Mind yourself, Miss Cameron."

"We see what you're doing," Freya said in a sharper voice.

"Miss Cameron, I'm not going to tell you again."

"You keep singling her out," Freya went on. Reddi's brown skin flushed red.

"Miss Barone," she said, ignoring Freya, "you either give me an answer right now or you'll be staying after school to retake this lesson."

I gripped the sides of my desk, staring at my blank paper. "I don't have an answer."

Miss Reddi clicked her tongue. "Looks like I'll have some company this evening," she said and did she ever enjoy it. "I suggest you mind your tone from now on, Kareena, lest you find yourself—"