SHOUT - Adopted by Lin Manuel Miranda

EDUCATION: IT'S IMPORTANT

Ms. Rishanki orders me to report to her classroom during my study hall. I'm jaded when it comes to this woman. I'm not even surprised. 

I push open the door and go to plop my backpack in the usual spot by the wall, but freeze when I see it: Ms. Rishanki sitting at her desk, speaking to a girl I've never seen before. Is this another one of Rishanki's victims? A poor soul being interrogated over a lost homework assignment? The girl pauses mid-sentence when Ms. Rishanki notices me standing in the doorway. "Ah, Vidya," she says. 

I stare at her and don't move. 

Ms. Rishanki stands. "Come sit."

I shuffle to a desk in the middle of the room and drop my backpack against the chair. Ms. Rishanki sits beside me and the girl sits beside her. I open my mouth to ask who the hell is she, but Ms. Rishanki interrupts. "I heard about the basketball situation."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mrs. Lewis asked me to lift some grades from your report card. She really wants you on that team."

So that's The Coach's name. I outline the faded mehndi on my hand with my index finger. "This is the part where you tell me that my grades suck, that I'm not reaching my potential, and that I'm going to go through life on the minimum wage. I am well aware. I think we're done here."

I grab the strap of my backpack and go to stand, but Ms. Rishanki grabs my arm. Isn't psychical teacher – student contact illegal? Maybe I can get Vanessa to file a lawsuit against her. No more wasted study halls. "No," she says. "This is something different."

I slouch back in the chair. Ms. Rishanki looks at the girl, then at me. "I was going to say that I heard about the basketball team, and why you can't try out. I want to help you." She puts her hand on the girl's back. "This is Gracie. She'll be your tutor."

This must be a nightmare. I give Ms. Rishanki a look like, you can't be serious. Tutors are for kids who want to do better. I don't need or want to learn. I'm dropping out of this inferno soon as I get the chance. 

"I talked it over with Mr. Lent—"

"You brought the principal into this?" I ask. Gracie finds something to look at out the window. 

Ms. Rishanki takes a deep breath, then looks me in the face. "I talked it over with Mr. Lent, and we both agree that you need to bring your grades up if you want to play basketball."

"Look, Rishanki. I don't want to play basketball. The last thing I want to do is represent this dump. If you haven't gotten it, I hate this school. I hate you, too." I smirk. "You want to talk to me about reaching my potential? I threw my potential in there on the way in on the first day." I point to the garbage can. "Stick your face in the trash and look for it. Be with your own kind."

"Gracie is going to meet with you in the library every day until you're passing every single one of your classes. Or else you don't graduate in June." Ms. Rishanki leans forward and squints. "And you better watch your attitude, Vidya. I've been nice to you, because I'm aware of your situation. You don't want to see me get tough." 

I smack on my serial killer glare and use it on Ms. Rishanki for a few moments before Gracie turns to me. "I'm Gracie from Manhasset. I'm new here. Wanna eat lunch with me tomorrow?"

I see my reflection in her glasses. Her blue Wilmington sweater is tucked into her skirt. It doesn't even look like a school uniform on her.

"No." I lean back in the chair and cross my arms. "No I do not."