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“She doesn’t care how her aunt Mae Louise and uncle Buster look in the community, or she wouldn’t have gotten herself into so much trouble here so quickly. You have no reason to be loyal to a girl like that,” he would say.

Maybe Ashley didn’t need all that much convincing. The truth was, I hardly knew him. For all I knew, loyalty was a foreign word to him. He was certainly not very loyal to his teammates on the basketball squad, I thought.

Why didn’t you think about all that before, stupid? I asked myself as I sat across from the secretary, who looked at me as though I were a serial killer. She avoided my eyes and worked on files.

&nb

sp; After what seemed like thirty minutes, but was probably only ten, the dean’s office door opened and Ashley, his head bowed, came out with the dean right behind him. He glanced at me and then quickly shifted his eyes guiltily away.

“Write him a pass back to class,” the dean said with his hand on Ashley’s shoulder.

“Phoebe,” the dean said, and nodded at his opened door.

I stood up, looked at it, and shook my head.

“No, thanks,” I said. “I been there, done that.”

“What?”

Ashley spun around in surprise as I walked past him out of the office and started down the hallway.

“If you know what’s good for you, young lady, you’ll march right back in here!” Dean Cassidy called after me from the office doorway.

I know what’s good for me, I thought.

That’s why I’m not marching right back.

4

Daddy’s Gone

I didn’t know where I was going, of course. I just left the building and continued to walk down the street. I went about four blocks before a police car pulled up alongside me and sounded its siren. The policeman got out when I stopped and turned.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“Anywhere but here,” I said.

“You can’t do that, miss. The school is responsible for your well-being. Now get into the car,” he ordered.

He wasn’t that tall, but he looked like he could rip a tree out by its roots. His shoulders were wide, and he had a neck so thick, I thought it would look perfect on a bull. He stepped toward me threateningly.

I walked to the car and got in.

“Where do you live?” he asked, and I gave him Aunt Mae Louise and Uncle Buster’s address.

“You’re taking me home, then?”

“That’s where the school wants you brought. Your mother’s been called.”

“She’s not my mother,” I said.

“Who is she?”

“My aunt.”

“Whoever she is to you, she’s been called. What did you do wrong, anyway?” he asked.

“Be born,” I said, and stared out the window.