Chapter 9
The hallway smelled the same. That was the worst part.
Same floor wax, same cold air coming off the green lockers on the right, same buzz from the fluorescents overhead. I stopped just inside the front doors and stood there with my hands locked around my backpack straps, chest-level, the way I'd held it two days ago. Kids moved around me in a stream, and I could feel them looking before they even said anything.
I made myself walk.
I kept my eyes forward and counted the lockers. Twelve to the water fountain. Eighteen to Ms. Delgado's room. Someone whispered as I passed, "That's her," and another girl quickly looked away when I glanced over. A sophomore boy I didn't even know pointed with his chin toward my backpack and said something to his friend, low, and they both laughed but not loud. Not like Tyler's laugh. This was smaller, trying not to get caught.
My shoulders wanted to curl in. I pulled them back. My hands didn't leave the backpack. I felt the brown leather patch under my right thumb, worn smooth, and I pressed into it while I walked. Each step made the hallway feel longer. The floor squeaked under my sneakers.
Jace was by his locker.
He was alone. No Tyler, no phone held sideways, just his black hoodie and his locker door half open, books stacked inside and not taken out. He saw me coming and his face did something quick - his eyes dropped first, then came back up for half a second, then dropped again. He didn't smirk. He didn't have his arms crossed. He just stood there with one hand on the locker door.
When I was three lockers away he gave me a small nod. Quick, chin down, eyes still not really meeting mine. It wasn't a smile. It was tight and sorry and awkward, and he looked like he couldn't breathe right. He shut his locker softly, the metal making that dull thud I remembered from before, and stepped back to give me space against the wall.
I didn't stop. I didn't forgive him with a nod back, and I didn't say anything mean either. I just kept walking and let a breath out through my nose after I passed him. My hands were still clamped on the backpack. He didn't follow me.
The hallway opened up near the main office and I saw the empty spot where Tyler usually leaned with Jace. Empty. A girl from my homeroom told someone behind me, "He's suspended till the meeting," and I pretended I didn't hear it even though my stomach dropped a little at the word. Suspended. Pending. That meant he wasn't gone. He was just not here today.
I turned into my classroom before the bell.
My desk was in the second row by the windows. I slipped into the chair and for the first time since that day in the hallway, I did something different with the backpack. I didn't keep it on my lap. I didn't hug it on the desk. I stared at the floor for a second, at the scuffed tile and the metal legs of the desk, and then I bent down and set it down.
I placed it on the floor, upright, between my feet, the brown patch facing out. My hands stayed on it for one extra second, then I let go. It sat there on its own. My knees almost touched it, but I wasn't holding it. The weight off my chest felt strange, lighter and also wrong, like I'd forgotten something. I folded my hands on the desk instead and tried to keep them still. The kid next to me glanced down at the backpack, then up at me, then away.
Ms. Delgado came to the doorway five minutes early. She didn't call my name loud.
"Maya," she said quietly, and tipped her head toward the hall. "When you're ready? Conference room."
My heart started thumping hard. I nodded. I picked up the backpack - I wasn't ready to leave it - and slung one strap over my shoulder. It felt deliberate, not like clutching, just carrying. I followed her out while the rest of the class was still getting out notebooks, and the hallway was suddenly empty again, just me and her and the long line of green lockers humming under the lights.
She walked beside me, not ahead of me. "Your dad's on his way," she said. "We're just getting the room ready. You don't have to say anything until you're ready to."
May you like
"Okay," I said. My voice was small.
The conference room was at the end of the same hallway, the one with the frosted window and the long table inside. Ms. Delgado opened the door and I stepped in. I pulled out the chair closest to the door and sat down, and this time I set the backpack right next to my chair, on the floor, where I could see it but didn't have to hold it. My hand rested on the chair edge, not on the straps. I sat there and waited, listening to the hallway clock tick, ready for the meeting to start.
