CHAPTER24
Irealize this is probably a lost cause, but instead of going to advanced physics, I go to the office.
Jess is there, of course, typing away on her computer. When she looks up and sees me, she smiles. “I know that you’ve had a rough go of it, so I forgive you for not telling Brett to come see me,” she says.
“Oh, yeah, right. Sorry about that,” I mumble.
“What brings you here?”
“I know we already talked about this, but I really need some of my classes changed. Not all of them,” I rush to add. “Just calculus, English literature and composition, and geography. A lunchtime that doesn’t have any of the Mutineers in it would be fantastic too.”
“We did talk about this,” Jess says slowly. “Such sweeping changes to your schedule just can’t be done. There’s only one calculus course being offered this semester anyhow, so you’re stuck there.”
“What about the others?” I press.
“With you being a transfer… I just don’t see how this would be a smart idea. I don’t know if the principal would sign off on it.”
I grit my teeth. Mr. Malone is not exactly an Erika fan, after all.
“But, Jess, you don’t understand.”
“How are you doing in your classes?”
“I’ve turned in a paper for English. I haven’t had many tests yet.”
“Have you had any graded?”
I’m silent.
“You seem like you’re smart. You have to be. You’re here on scholarship. Why are you so worried? If you do great here, you’ll be able to get into any college you want.”
“It’s not so much college that I’m worried about right now,” I mumble.
“You have applied to colleges already, haven’t you?” she asks.
Of course I have. Under my real name. I need to file some applications under Erika Armstrong lickety-split.
I nod, mute.
“Well, then? It’s fine and even understandable that you have some nerves, but the school year is almost over. You’ll be leaving soon enough.”
"The Mutineers have been harassing me," I blurt out. "I told the principal about it, but he doesn't care. I don't think he believes me, or else he just doesn't give a fuck. Please, Jess. I'm begging you, and I'm not the kind to beg. I failed a calculus test, only I didn't really fail it. Brett erased half of my answers."
“Why on earth would Brett do such a thing?”
“To fuck with me,” I say grimly. “You need to understand that I can’t handle this. They’re fucking up my future—”
“Did you tell your teacher about this?”
“No, but—”
“You need to talk to your teacher. An accusation like that has to go through the proper channels.”
I grit my teeth. “I don’t think she’ll help me. I don’t think any of you will. You all worship the fucking Mutineers. Why is that? What’s so special about the lot of them anyhow?”
“Their parents pay a lot of money—”
"Of course. Money talks. Pay enough, and any abuse and harassment are shoved under the rug. Of course that's the way the world works. Money makes all kinds of problems go away as if they had never been a problem in the first place." I roll my eyes.