Jumped Read Free Page B

fighting. My chest is rising and falling, rising and falling. Just no one say nothing. Don’t speak. Just let me calm myself down. Just be quiet.
    Some stupid little flit comes skipping down B Corridor like the Easter bunny carrying some rolled-up paper. Skipping. Hopping. In all that pink. Cuts right in between us and is like, “Hey” or some shit. Cuts a knife right through my space. Right through it. Wearing some perfume making a pink stink in my nose after she turns on C. Like she don’t see I’m here and all the space around me is mines so keep your pink ass on that side of the lane. No. She cuts a knife right through my space then turns. And I slam my fist into my other hand because she’s good as jumped and I say, “Her. I’m gonna kick that ass at two forty-five.”

4
On Speed Dial
LETICIA
    C AN YOU BELIEVE MY LUCK ? I sneak outside to skim dirt, and dirt finds me before I’m down the stairs. It’s all too good to waste. Every second counts. The bell will ring in five minutes. I fold the bathroom pass down to a padded wad and jam it on the inside of the door lock. I step outside the building where the reception is good and hit 3, Bea’s number on Celina’s speed dial.
    Bea is on the “work” part of work-study. One week classes and one week the job. Unlike us, Bea doesn’t have to hide her cell phone. Her boss doesn’t care about that. But here in school, they confiscate your phone if they catch you using it or if it goes off during class. Principal Bates took my Celina away and I promised Celina I would never let that happen again. I would be more careful, especially in chemistry. My teacher, Mr. Cosgrove, is funnyabout ringtones, especially if it’s an actual song. He dances his way to the groove of the ringtone all the way down to your seat, holds his hand out until you drop your phone in his palm. That’s why I keep Celina on vibrate, stashed in my bag. I wish Mr. Cosgrove would try to take my little girl. We’d have a custody battle in class because no one takes my sugar. Right, baby?
    Celina’s plastic body is cold like metal. She can’t stand being outside when it’s freezing but just like Bridgette tells me, “Deal. It’s only temporary.” I’m not worried. Once I start talking up this fresh dirt Celina will get warm in no time.
    Bea clicks and I start.
    â€œBeaBeaBea. Girrrrl…”
    â€œOoh, what?” She knows the sound of fresh dirt dropping when she hears it. “What’s up with James?”
    Who cares about Chem II James now? I just spill it: “Trina’s getting her ass whupped.”
    â€œTall Trina or Cute Trina?”
    â€œCute Trina.” Clarification needed: Trina isn’t cute by my standards. Trina thinks Trina is cute. But Bea and I are on the same page. She knows which Trina I mean.
    â€œRight now?” I know Bea wishes this was study week and not work week. That would be something to see. An event too good to miss. Trina getting stomped on school grounds.
    â€œNo. No,” I say. “That’s the thing. It’s happening after school. Maybe you can get here for it. Leave work early. Tell them you need a book in your locker for homework.”
    Bea gasps. She can’t believe it either. This is better than the tray of free doughnuts her boss puts out for the workers. She was going to miss Cute Trina’s beat-down.
    â€œBy who?” she asks.
    â€œBasketball Jones.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œYou know. Big girl. Wavy hair. Dominique.”
    Bea agrees I had it right the first time. Basketball Jones. When you think Dominique, you forget she has natural waves and a nice complexion. You think girl on the ball court in the biggy-baggy basketball jerseys and shorts, if you want to call those long bloomers shorts.
    â€œThat big girl?” Bea takes a moment to picture it. Big Dominique and little Trina. She makes a sound of shock and