Chapter 5
The office air smelled like old coffee and copier toner. My back was against the hard plastic chair and I could hear the clock ticking over the front desk. I hadn't let go of my backpack. Both straps were still pulled tight to my chest and my fingers had gone white around them. The hallway door was open a crack and I could hear Ms. Delgado's voice low in the lobby, talking to someone.
Then his shadow fell across the doorway.
My father stood there in his work jacket, the gray one with the oil stain on the left cuff that never came out. He still had his gloves tucked in his pocket. He'd come straight from the shop. His boots left a faint mark on the linoleum. He didn't say anything at first. He just looked at me.
Ms. Delgado stepped in behind him. "Mr. Alvarez, this is Maya," she said.
My father nodded once, but he didn't look at her. He looked at me and his face did something I wasn't ready for. I thought he'd be angry. His jaw was tight, but his eyes weren't scanning the room for someone to blame. He crossed the small office in two steps and then he knelt.
He knelt right there on the office floor so his knees almost touched my shoes, so his face was level with mine. The fluorescent light made the lines around his eyes sharper. I could smell sawdust and gasoline on his jacket.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
Not who did it. Not what happened. Not why did you call me.
His voice was quiet. He said it like there was no one else in the room.
I tried to answer. My throat closed. I shook my head, but it wasn't a real answer. My hands were still locked on the backpack and they started to tremble harder. I hadn't cried in front of him in a long time. Last year I'd hidden in the bathroom after a bad day at school because I didn't want him to see. Now I couldn't stop.
"I'm here," he said. "You're okay."
One of my hands slipped. I didn't mean to let go, but the trembling got to be too much and my left hand slid off the strap and fell into my lap. The backpack sagged a little against my chest. I left it there, one hand still gripping, one hand open and shaking. My father didn't reach for the bag. He just looked at my hand and then back at my face.
From the doorway, I felt someone watching us. I turned my head a little.
Tyler stood just outside the office, by the front counter. Ms. Delgado had moved him there when my father arrived. His smirk was gone. His mouth was pressed into a flat line and his hands were empty. I noticed that right away. The black smartphone wasn't in his hand anymore. Ms. Delgado held it now, screen down, pinched between her thumb and finger like evidence. She stood beside Tyler with her other hand lightly on the back of a chair, keeping a space between him and us.
My father stood slowly. His knees popped. He kept his body angled a little, like he was still shielding me, but he turned his attention to Ms. Delgado.
"Ms. Delgado," he said. His voice was steadier now, lower. "I appreciate you calling me. I want to do this right."
She nodded. "We need to follow the process. I'm holding the phone in office custody until the meeting. No one deletes anything, no one posts anything."
My father glanced once at Tyler. He didn't step toward him. He didn't raise his voice. I felt his hand rest lightly on the back of my chair, not on me, just on the chair.
"I don't want hallway revenge," he said to Ms. Delgado. "I want a process. I want her to be safe walking to class tomorrow. What does that look like?"
Ms. Delgado exhaled. She seemed relieved to have a parent say that. She tucked the phone into a manila envelope on the desk and wrote Tyler's name across it in black marker.
"Tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock. Formal meeting. You, Maya, Tyler and his parents, me, and Principal Ward. We review the video, we follow the code of conduct, and we decide consequences," she said. "No contact between students until then."
"And the other boy?" my father asked.
"Jace was sent home already," Ms. Delgado said. "His mother picked him up ten minutes ago. He'll be included in the follow-up."
Tyler looked down at the floor when she said his name. He didn't argue. His shoulders were hunched inside his dark jacket and the patches on the sleeve caught the light.
Ms. Delgado zipped the envelope and put it in the top drawer of her desk and locked it. The click of the lock was loud.
May you like
My father put his hand out to me, palm up, not pulling, just offering. I looked at the backpack still clutched to my chest and then at his hand. I held the bag with one hand and put my other hand in his. His fingers were rough and warm.
We left together. He didn't hurry me. Ms. Delgado held the door as we passed Tyler in the lobby. Tyler didn't look up. The phone stayed locked in the office behind us, and the hallway outside was empty except for the green lockers stretching quiet under the fluorescents.
