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Yeah fucking right, idjits.
I asked if I could test out of this class if I took a skilled test or something and they said no.
Walking into Mrs. Summers’s class, I instantly know this is going to be hell on earth for the whole semester. I look around and everything is just so wrong. It’s just so hard to explain. This isn’t even advanced Spanish; this is Spanish I. For beginners.
Fuck my life.
I turn to face Atlas and give him a look. He shrugs, and I grin in response.
We find our little corner to sit in near the back of the room, hoping that means the teacher will leave us alone. That has worked out for us in most of our classes so far.
With the tone of the bell, the teacher starts rambling some stuff off in English about what we will be covering in class for the semester. I’m irate about being here, and I don’t want to be listening to someone tell me how to speak a language I already know, so I ignore her.
I’m in the middle of talking to Atlas when his eyes turn into saucers.
I stop talking and sign, “She behind me?”
He nods. I turn around and stare at her.
“Why are you talking in my class?”
“Because I know Spanish.”
“That doesn’t mean you can just disrupt my class.”
“To my knowledge, I wasn’t disrupting class because I was whispering. We are in the back of the class talking to each other while you ramble on about something we don’t need to learn.”
“You still need to listen to me. What if I have something important to say or teach you?”
“There isn’t anything you can teach me that I don’t already know about Spanish, Mrs. Summers. I am Puerto Rican, and Spanish is my first language.”
“Listen here. I will not tolerate disrespect or insolence!”
“Okay, so here is the deal. We will ignore you while you teach, as we don’t need to listen to you talk. We both know Spanish, and neither one of us need to be in this class, but we did not have a choice in the matter. If we had been allowed to test out of this class, we would have. We can prove it, but we weren’t given the option,” I say to her.
I turn back around and notice the smirk on Atlas’s face.
Mrs. Summers scoffs. “Mr. Hernandez, you and Mr. Wilson can see me for after-school detention this week, and any more outbursts from you and you can see yourselves to the principal’s office!”
CHAPTER4
PAISLEY
Walkinghome after school has always been dreadful. I hate riding the bus unless I absolutely have to. If the whispers and teasing weren’t bad enough, the things they throw at me get bigger every time I’m on it. Even the bus driver sneers at me when she has to drive me all the way out to my house.
I’m an inconvenience to everyone and a nuisance, so I avoid everyone as much as possible.
No one says anything. No one seems to care. I never understood that, though.
Who doesn’t speak up for a little kid? Who lets that happen to someone who isn’t able to protect themselves?
I shake my head to pull myself out of my stupor, knowing there is no use in going down that black hole. It gets me nowhere, and it’s a waste of energy that I will need when I get home.
I decide to take the long way home. Yeah, it’s an extra thirty minutes, but it’s time I don’t have to be with Mom, and that’s time I cherish more than anything else. This is my peaceful time before the storm. I can think. I can breathe without worrying. I can, for lack of better words, be myself on this walk home that just isn’t long enough.
* * *
Mom is gone for the day at least on one of her trips, and I know she’ll be home late. These are the few and far between days I don’t have to be home immediately.
