When Reason Breaks (13 page)

On the top part of the paper was an image of a girl sitting, her arms behind the chair, her wrists bound. Each of her ankles was tied to a chair leg. She was screaming and struggling against the ropes. A pink blindfold covered her eyes.

Below this image were two others. A small girl surrounded by giant-size men covered her face with her hands. Under this was written, “I was the slightest in the House … I never spoke—unless addressed.” Next to this image was a similar one, except in this one, the giant-size men were talking to one another—some were laughing—while the little girl lay in a corner, in a pool of blood, a straight-edged razor near her lifeless hand. Next to this was written, “I had often thought How noteless—I could die.”

“Elizabeth, I think we should talk about this later,” said Ms. Diaz.

“Why? I did what you wanted us to do, and now I'm in trouble?”

“I didn't say you were in trouble. I'd like to talk to you about
this
,” Ms. Diaz said and pointed to the dead girl in the picture.

“What about it? Have you read the poem? It fits.”

“Yes, I've read the poem, Elizabeth. I know it fits. Still, I'd like to talk one-on-one, without an audience.”

Elizabeth glanced around the room and saw that everyone had stopped what they were doing and stared at them.

“Well, I don't want to talk later,” Elizabeth said.

“Fine, then you can go to Ms. Gilbert's office.”

“What? Why?” Elizabeth sprang up in her seat and glared at Ms. Diaz.

“Because you don't want to talk to me later, and I'm not going to argue with you now.”

“But I don't want to talk to Ms. Gilbert,” said Elizabeth. “Fine, I'll talk about it with you. You're the one who has a problem with it. Go ahead, talk!”

Students stared. Emily sank into her seat and raised her hand to cover her face.

“Elizabeth, I need you to lower your voice and calm down,” said Ms. Diaz.

“I'm not yelling! I am calm! I'm just confused. I haven't done anything wrong. I did what you wanted us to do, and now I'm in trouble?” Her hands moved and her ponytail bobbed as she spoke.

“Elizabeth …” Tommy called her. When she looked at him, he shook his head intentionally from side to side. “Don't do this” was the message.

“Ms. Diaz, I think I can settle this,” said Kevin. “I think Davis just needs to ‘hug it out.' ”

“Please, Kevin, not now,” Ms. Diaz said, raising a hand to
him. “Elizabeth, I think the best thing would be for you to see Ms. Gilbert now. I'll call and tell her you're on your way.”

Ms. Diaz crossed the room to reach the phone. Elizabeth stuffed her pencils and notebook into her bag. She stood up with force. Her chair slid back and her desk banged into Emily's.

“This is fucking bullshit,” she said as she walked toward the door.

Tommy cringed. Emily gasped. The other students were genuinely shocked. They swear all the time with each other, but this crossed the line. Ms. Diaz hung up with Ms. Gilbert and dialed the assistant principal next.

As Elizabeth walked past Ms. Diaz, the two locked gazes. A few seconds after Elizabeth left, everyone in the classroom heard: bang, bang, bang. Ms. Diaz stepped into the hallway, the phone still against her ear. She saw a dent in a nearby locker and Elizabeth running and shaking her hand. When she turned back into the classroom, Emily was standing right in front of her.

“Can I go to the bathroom, please?”

“Sure,” said Ms. Diaz.

Emily walked swiftly and then broke into a jog. She saw Elizabeth ahead of her. She had stopped running and stood with her back against a wall, one arm cradled by the other. Tears streamed down her face. Emily stood in front of Elizabeth, but didn't say anything.

“What do you want, Delgado?”

Emily reached into her pocket and pulled out a small package of tissues. She reached for Elizabeth's injured hand,
turned it over gently, and pressed the plastic pack into her palm. Elizabeth closed her fingers around it, winced, and said, “Thanks.”

Emily turned Elizabeth's hand back over and passed her thumb over Elizabeth's bruised knuckles.

“You're not like the girl in the poem,” Emily said.

“That's not true.”

“Really?” Emily asked and titled her head like a dog when it hears a strange noise.

“Really.”

“But you live out loud.”

“And all that gets me is suspended.”

“You were challenged and you stood your ground,” Emily said, raising her voice. “You wrestled with her and you won. You were Jacob.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Delgado?”

Emily laughed but didn't explain.

Elizabeth pulled a tissue from the pack and wiped her face.

They stood in the hallway and stared at each other. Emily held a hand up, pushed her index finger down as if she were taking a picture, and said, “Click.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply.

Emily leaned in and whispered, “I
see
you, Elizabeth Davis.” And then she walked away.

Behind her, Emily heard three more bangs—Elizabeth's fist hitting metal—and the assistant principal's voice shouting for her to stop and come with him to the office.

Emily stood outside Ms. Diaz's door. She rubbed the back of her neck, smoothed down her shirt, and buried her hands in her pockets to stop them from shaking.

When Emily walked through the door, everyone turned to look at her. She smiled politely and headed for her seat. Ms. Diaz crossed the room in a few quick steps and stood in front of her.

“Emily, are you okay?” she asked in a hushed tone.

Without hesitation, she said, “Yes, I'm fine.”

Later that day, Emily shuffled behind Abby and Sarah in the lunch line as they described Elizabeth's meltdown to students who didn't witness it firsthand. She half listened to them as she added lettuce, carrots, and cucumbers to a Styrofoam plate. She had quit cross-country and pretty much stopped running altogether. No running meant no pasta at lunch.

“You know, you could eat more if you started running with us again. ‘Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy,' ” Abby said, quoting a movie they watched once.

“Ranch dressing makes me happy,” said Emily. She dipped a baby carrot in a plastic cup half-filled with dressing
and popped it into her mouth. “Plus, I always hated running in the cold. Maybe I'll try an indoor sport.”

Abby shrugged and inched closer to the cashier. While Emily waited in line, she spotted Tommy and Kevin already seated in the cafeteria. After paying, she followed Sarah and Abby to their regular table but didn't sit down.

“What are you doing?” asked Sarah.

Emily stared at Kevin, who smiled and signaled to an empty chair.

“Kevin's waving me over,” said Emily.

“Go ahead and talk to him. We'll save your seat,” said Abby.

“I think I'll sit over there today,” Emily said quietly.

“Really?” asked Abby. “Well, I guess Ranch dressing isn't the only thing that makes you happy.”

Emily grinned. “Well, there's an extra seat over there.”

“And, what happens when Elizabeth comes back?” asked Abby.

“I don't know,” said Emily. “I'll probably come back here.”

“Probably?” asked Abby.

“Leave her alone,” said Sarah. “Go ahead, Em. Sit with your boyfriend. We'll be here, same place, same time every day.”

“Of course,” said Abby. “Don't get me wrong, I've been in on this romance since the very beginning.”

“What does that mean?” asked Emily.

“It means I'm a big fan of ‘Kevily,' but you've spent every weekend with Mr. Wonderful and now he's eating into our
lunch time,” Abby said with a smile. “I'm just saying don't forget about us little people.”

Emily hesitated but didn't say anything.

“Ignore her and go,” said Sarah. “Your salad's wilting and you're running out of time.”

Emily gripped her lunch tray so hard, her knuckles turned white. Her heart raced as she maneuvered around students to Kevin and Tommy's table. She slid her body into the empty chair and her cold, sweaty hand into Kevin's steady grip. At the same time, a sophomore named Olivia slid into Emily's usual spot next to Sarah and opposite Abby.

Elizabeth sat silently in the passenger seat of her mom's car as they headed home. Mom had picked up Elizabeth from school and then taken her to the doctor's office to check the damage done to her hand.

When she got into the car at school, Elizabeth's mom had said, “Please don't say anything. I'm too angry to talk to you right now.”

Hours later, Elizabeth flexed and curled her fingers, inspecting the Ace bandage on her hand. Mom focused on the traffic ahead or gazed out of the driver's side window then finally, broke the silence.

“What on earth possessed you to swear at a teacher?” her mom asked.

“It wasn't an earthly being, Julia,” Elizabeth said.

“What?” she asked, glancing at Elizabeth while she drove.

“I was temporarily taken over by an alien. Swearing is illegal on her planet, so she wanted to try it out real quick before returning to the mother ship,” said Elizabeth.

“You think this is funny?” Mom asked, raising her voice. “This is not funny. Since school started, you have skipped class, fallen from a tree, sprained your knee, cursed at a teacher, bruised your knuckles, and received a three-day in-school suspension. What's next? Expulsion? Juvenile detention? Is that what you want? To become an actual criminal sitting in jail and have your mother be a total basket case?”

“No.”

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘no,' ” Elizabeth said louder.

“Oh, I thought you were being a smart-ass again.”

“Not this time. Shocking, huh?” Elizabeth gazed out the window at the clear-blue, late-autumn sky. The shedding trees were a colorful blur as her mother sped along the roads. Elizabeth put her window down, closed her eyes, and leaned her head out of the car to let chilled gusts slap her in the face.

“Close the window, Elizabeth. It's getting cold in here.”

“It's refreshing,” Elizabeth countered, but she closed the window anyway. “Imagine that, we disagree on something.”

“You know what, Elizabeth? I am tired of your attitude. Do you think we could ever have a real conversation if you're always being sarcastic?”

“Is this supposed to be a real conversation? It sounds more like a lecture to me.”

“Fine, then let it be a lecture, which means stop with
the back talk and listen,” her mom said. “Your behavior is unacceptable. Not only is it reckless, it's selfish. You don't consider how your words and actions affect other people. How do you think Ms. Diaz felt today? You were completely disrespectful. You ruined her class.

“How do you think I felt when your principal called? Do you know how embarrassing it is to be told that your child cursed at the teacher and dented some lockers with her fist? You weren't raised to believe that it's okay to act that way.

“And what about your partner for this assignment? How are you supposed to work with her if you're serving a three-day internal suspension?

“Plus, do you realize that every time you pull one of your little stunts, I have to leave work, which means I lose hours and earn less money. And then, because you always seem to hurt yourself, I have to take you to the doctor, which costs money.”

“You missed the turn,” Elizabeth said.

“What?”

“You missed the turn. You were too busy lecturing me.”

“Damn it,” her mom said. She pulled over, made a U-turn when she could, and then took the turn she had missed.

The two were quiet again for a few minutes.

“So, do you have anything to say?” her mom asked. “And it better not be one of your clever little comments.”

“I'll apologize to Ms. Diaz,” Elizabeth said.

“You should apologize to the whole class,” her mom suggested.

“Fine, I'll apologize to the class. My partner and I are splitting the work, so we don't have to be together to get it done, and I'll pay you back somehow for the doctor's visits.”

“All of that is great, but you're missing the point, Elizabeth.”

“Which is?”

“You need to pull yourself together before something horrible happens,” her mom said. “When you go to school, I want you to attend class, do your work, get good grades, and stay out of trouble.”

Her mom parked the car in their driveway, turned off the engine, and faced Elizabeth.

“Is that clear?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You're grounded until further notice,” she added.

“Fine.”

“And I want your phone.”

“Here.” Elizabeth grabbed her cell from her bag and handed it to her mother. She turned away from her mom and looked out the passenger side window. She sat still, cradling her injured hand in the other, her thumb rubbing the bandage.

“Does it hurt?” her mom asked gently.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “Everything hurts.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Elizabeth turned to her mom. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“No, I'm not.”

Elizabeth shoved the car door open, climbed out, and slammed it shut, leaving her mom alone in the car. As she dragged herself to the front door, she wiped away her tears with her sleeve.

Later that night, Emily texted Abby and Sarah: Hey, girls, I'm at Kevin's for dinner. The story is we all went to the library after school and now we're at Sarah's working on a project, okay?

Sarah: Sounds good. Have fun.

Abby: Doesn't sound good. Who does homework on a Friday night? Lame cover story, Em.

Emily: Well, I had to say something. Just remember in case you run into my parents sometime soon.