I shrug. “If you say so.”
She scowls, pissed that I’m folding before she can win. “Think about it, Matthew.” The girl beside her snickers at the way Raychel spits my name, like it tastes bad. “What’s the one difference between girls and boys? What can you force me to do that I can’t do to you?”
I squirm, trying to think of a way not to answer. “Guys can get raped too,” a kid across the room volunteers, not looking at anyone but Raychel.
“Yeah,” she says, frowning in sympathy. “But that’s not what I meant.” She turns back to me. “Say that happens. Are you going to get pregnant?” She waits, staring me down. She’s going to make me answer, make me say it.
“No.”
She points the sharp end of her pencil at me. “Can someone force you to abort a baby you want to keep?”
“No,” I admit again. She’s not only going to make her point, she’s going to use it to stake me through the heart.
“Can someone force you to have a baby you don’t want?”
“No.” I can’t look at her. She’s right, of course, but I don’t have to like it.
“Can you hop off, scot-free, and pretend like that baby’s never been born?”
Like her dad. “I … I mean I wouldn’t…”
“So don’t tell me,” she interrupts, jabbing the pencil in my direction, “that everyone is equal. Don’t tell me you know what it’s like, to know that no matter what you do, how powerful you are, some prick could attack you—” Ms. Moses coughs but Raychel doesn’t even pause. “You can do everything right, be careful, become a nun and intend to die a goddamn virgin, but at any moment, some dickhead could not just hurt you, but create another life to ruin at the same time, and you get held responsible for both. Don’t tell me you understand that.”
No one speaks. My mind races, realizing Raychel is both people in this hypothetical: the woman attacked and the abandoned child. But I can’t put the words together quickly enough to beat the bell. Everyone rushes to escape the room, including Raychel, who leaves me behind still trying to say “All I want in my goddamn life is to keep that from happening to you.”
But I couldn’t even say it in time, much less do it.
RAYCHEL
Just when I think Matt’s starting to get it, he demonstrates in spectacular fashion that he doesn’t. Maybe I was too hard on him in class, but goddamn—he’s a rich white dude with his future wide open, and he wants to lecture me about not trying hard enough for college and how much I weigh while whining about his own opportunities? Excuse me if I’m not interested in sitting through his insights on gender roles.
He’s walking a safe ten feet behind me, but I slow down when I notice Andrew farther ahead. His arm drapes around Keri as they leave the lobby. His other hand shoots out to touch Cowboy Chester. He doesn’t notice Carson breaking off from a group across the patio.
I speed up, pushing outside into the crisp afternoon.
“Richardson!” Carson barks. Andrew looks up. “You a senior now, or just think you’re such a badass that rules don’t apply to you?”
Andrew replies with something I can’t hear, but I see his casual smirk. Keri backs away from them, stopping beside me. “That jerk,” she whispers. “I hope Andrew kicks his butt again.”
I don’t. I start forward but Matt catches me by the shoulder. “What are you doing?”
I brush him off and take another step, slightly sideways, so I can see both boys’ faces. Carson, twice as wide but nowhere near eye level, even on tiptoe, gets closer and closer to Andrew. He pokes Andrew in the chest. “You think you’re hot shit, junior?”
Andrew scoffs. “I kicked your ass, didn’t I?”
“Two on one’s not a fair fight.” His spit sprays Andrew’s shirt. “Your big brother isn’t here to defend your ass.”
Matt coughs. They both turn to glower at him. “This isn’t your—” Andrew starts, but Carson sucker punches him in the gut and the word “fight” comes out in a wheeze. “Fight!” someone yells for him, and another voice takes up the chant. “Fight! Fight!”
Blood rushes in my ears, deafening me to anything resembling sense. I start forward and Andrew straightens up to grab my arm. “Raych,” he warns.
His fingers dig into my flesh. He’s not scared to hurt me like Matt is. “Damnit, let go!”
“Stay out of it, Sanders.” Carson reaches like he’s going to push me away. In a movement so fast that I miss it, Andrew lets go of me and pops him in the mouth. Carson yells, guttural and furious. His hands cover his lips. Blood seeps between his fingers. “I’ll kill you!” He sounds like a cartoon character, words all spongy and exaggerated.
The lobby doors burst open. “You,” the principal shouts, pointing at all three boys. “In my office. Now.” He gives me a long stare but leaves me alone. The boys follow him into the building without a backward glance.
The crowd buzzes around us. I’m so furious that I’m shaking. I spin around, looking for someone or something to hurt, but a hand touches my back. “Raychel.”
I blink. Keri links her arm through mine and tugs me gently through the crowd.
MATT
“You boys think I don’t know what goes on after school?” Mr. Johnson paces in front of us. Plants fill the window of his office and a young girl smiles from a frame on his desk. “You think I don’t know you had a fight a couple weeks ago?”
“No, sir,” I answer. “I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” he cuts me off. “What’s you boys’ problem?”
We glance at one another warily. I mentally will Andrew to keep his mouth shut, and dare Carson to open his, because if he says Raychel’s name, I might break his face. Good guy or not, I would enjoy it, no matter what Mom thinks.
Carson speaks up from behind an ice pack. “Just a little disagreement, sir.”
“About?” Johnson demands. The guy is huge, at least six foot five, and completely bald, so of course we call him Big Johnson. No way was he going to avoid that nickname. “A girl?”
We all look in different directions. “Not really,” I lie.
Big Johnson stares us all down, glaring at the top of my brother’s head until he looks up. “Tipton, Richardson—Andrew,” he amends. “You’re both suspended for three days.”
“What?” Carson shouts. Andrew rubs the back of his neck.
“Matthew,” Johnson says. “I expect better out of you. I’ll let you off this time since I can’t prove you were involved, but next time it’s a suspension.” I nod, meeting his eyes, and start to stand. “Sit down, son.” He shakes his head. “I know that Sanders girl is your friend, but don’t go ruining your future for her.”
Carson guffaws, and Big Johnson whirls on him as he tries to cover it with a cough. “You got something to add?” His lips purse as Carson’s eyes widen. “Good. Get out of here before I kick you off the baseball team for good measure.” He looks at all of us. “I’ll chat with your folks this evening.”
RAYCHEL