The File on Angelyn Stark by Catherine Atkins Page B

the teacher who brought the girls in.”
    Mom looks stumped. “Why would he say that?”
    “Because it’s true!” I almost shout it. “You’ve seen me do the work.”
    “Angelyn did bad,” she says past me. “She needs to learn how to get along in this world.”
    “Well, yes,” Miss Bass says, “but—”
    “Can I hear Angelyn’s punishment?”
    “Two days’ suspension,” she says quietly.
    Mom sits back. “Thank you. I’ll bring her to work with me.”
    “There’s no one to watch her at home, Sherry?”
    “No.”
    “Can I go to the bathroom?” I ask, already standing.
    Miss Bass nods. “Be sure you come back, Angelyn.”
    Mom says, “She damn well better.”
    I race-walk down the hallway, wanting—needing—OUT.
    “Angelyn!” someone calls as I pass Attendance.
    I duck back. Jeni and Nathan are mixed in with the line of kids for late passes. They cross to me, Nathan first.
    “You okay?” he asks.
    “We weren’t sure where to go,” Jeni says.
    I stare at them. “Where to go for what?”
    “We saw the fight,” Nathan says.
    “You saw the fight. So?”
    “That other girl started it,” he says.
    “We want to tell—whoever—what we saw,” Jeni says.
    “That’d be Miss Bass,” I say. “The vice principal. But why—”
    “You shouldn’t get in trouble, Angelyn,” Nathan says.
    “Stop it,” I say.
    The attendance clerk cranes around. “You three! Get in line or get out.”
    Nathan and Jeni follow me into the hall.
    “So, you don’t want us to say anything?” Jeni asks.
    I look toward the exit. “I don’t know. You can. Whatever!”
    Then it hits me.
    “My
mom’s
in with Miss Bass. Nathan, did she see you?”
    He looks back blankly. “Your mom? I didn’t see her.”
    I take a pinch of his moldy army jacket. “Let’s go.”
    Leaving the building is like coming up for air. I stop, and stumble when Nathan bumps me. I pull him across the courtyard to a windowless wall.
    Nathan is grinning at me.
Grinning
. I drop his sleeve.
    “Don’t get any ideas,” I say.
    “You’ve got dirt on your face.” He touches his cheek. “Here.”
    I rub the spot with the heel of my hand. “Stop
noticing
, all right?”
    “Jeni and me were coming down the hill when we saw you.”
    “Whose idea was it to go to the office?” I ask.
    “Mine.” Nathan sounds proud.
    “I don’t need your help, or hers. I’ve got things under control.”
    “Your mom isn’t blaming you?”
    “Yeah, she is. She’d do it worse if
you
showed up.”
    “That’s not fair,” he says. “She’s not fair to both of us.”
    “Nathan, the best thing you can do for me is
leave me be.
”
    I whip away from him.
    “I was right to tell,” he says. Not loud but it goes through me.
    I walk back. “You were right to tell what?”
    Nathan blinks. “About your stepdad touching you.”
    I fall away. “Don’t say that here. That lie.”
    “It’s not a lie.”
    I want to scream at him.
Scream
. I look around. No one.
    “You wrecked us with it. My whole family. Done.”
    “Grandma said I was right to tell.”
    “You lied to
her
too. Yes, you did!”
    Nathan shifts his weight. “Naw.”
    With a look I pin him to the wall.
    “You see one thing—
one thing
—you don’t understand, and that’s it. Time to—tear down the walls. Break everything. Did it make you feel special?”
    From a distance Mom shouts my name. I catch my breath.
    “I’ve got to go.” I jab a finger at him. “Do not follow me!”
    “I didn’t see it once,” Nathan says.
    “What’s that?”
    “Your stepdad and you. I didn’t see it once. I saw it a bunch.”
    “Freak.” I whisper it.
    “I
told
once.”
    “You were wrong.” The words come out cracked.
    “I was right. I never lied, Angelyn. You did, about him.”
    “Shut up.”
    Nathan searches me. “I hear he’s still around. How can that be?”
    Mom calls again, closer.
    “Go,” I tell him.
    “She ought to know,” Nathan says.
    “Go.”
    “Did you ever tell