Jumped Read Free

It’s cold,” Shayne whines. She’s Scotty in girls’ jeans.
    I say I don’t want no hot chocolate. “Y’all can go. I’m staying.”
    â€œThen stay. Don’t have none,” Shayne says. She hooks an arm in and around Viv’s arm. “We’ll be back.”
    I turn away. Go. Go get your hot chocolate. They’re yakking too much while I’m trying to stay focused. They think I’ll let him slide by for some hot chocolate? They think I’m going to blow my shot to grab him for some Swiss Miss and hot water?
    Before Viv and Shayne get anywhere I hear, “’Nique!” Viv is heads-up loud, pointing to the gate. “Green Bug!”
    Before Hershheiser can finish parking, grab his briefcase, his plastic coffee mug, I’m on him.
    Hah! Got him! He’s scared to leave the car. A rat in a trap. He knows what he did. He knows what he took. Yeah, Hershheiser. You know. You know. Shitting square ones, aren’t you?
    I knock on the window. Come out, mouse .
    Finally he opens the door and comes out. Brown wool skullie pulled down tight over his half-bald head.He’s chewing like a rat, fighting to get whatever down his throat. Rat with whiskers. Up and down, up and down. No. A mouse. A rat wouldn’t hide. A rat would come at me. I could respect that. I can’t respect a little brown mouse.
    â€œMiss Duncan. Why are you in the teachers’ parking lot?”
    Shayne and Vivica cackle hard because his teeth are rattling. He’s scared and it’s funny. I’d laugh too but I’m mad.
    â€œListen, Hershheiser,” I say, “I need my grade changed.”
    He tries to walk fast but I’m on him. Little man, where you think you going? We ’bout the same height but I know you feel my shadow. I know you feel me sticking. Go ahead. Make a move. You move, I stick. You move, I stick. You can’t run from me, mouse.
    â€œMiss Duncan, your grade i-is your grade. You’ll d-do better in your new cl-cl-class. The sec-sec-second semester’s j-just starting.”
    â€œI don’t want that grade. All you gotta do is change the seventy to a seventy-five. Five points. That’s all, Hershheiser. Just five points and I’m off the bench.”
    â€œLook, Miss Duncan….”
    Calling me “Miss” don’t make my shadow smaller.I’m not playing with you, mouse. Change my grade.
    â€œâ€™Nique,” I correct him. “Look, Mr. Hershheiser, you can do this. You can change my grade.”
    â€œMiss, er, Dominique”—mustache twitching—“you can’t accost me in the parking la-la-lot. This isn’t the way to do things.”
    â€œI’m not costing you. You’re costing me. Costing me my minutes. My season. All I need is to be up a few points and I get my time back.”
    Here I am, pleading my heart out like a stupid bitch in love and he’s running away. We’re already up the steps to the main door. See how he runs. He pushes the door open and is relieved. Little brown mouse is in the hole, makes it to safety, in with the other teachers. The cop nods him through and cocks her head up at us: Where you going?
    â€œGirls, you know the deal,” Cop Dyke says. “Seven fifty-five. Not before. It’s either on your schedule or you have to have a note. Got a note?”
    We don’t have a note. “That’s my teacher,” I say. “I’m talking to him.”
    â€œWell, he left you hanging, didn’t he?”
    I can’t say nothing back. That’s how mad I am. Mad enough to reach over, grab her club, and break it in two. Mad enough to pound the desk with my fist. The littlebrown mouse slides into his hole and then Cop Dyke blocks me like I’m some punk and I’m supposed to slink away with my head low. Say that’s all right. You don’t have to hear me out, mouse. You don’t have to let me through, Cop. And