Part 16 (2/2)

”Well, this one time my mom's boyfriend moved in with us.” Jenevra is tilted way back in her chair, feet up on the tabletop. ”She made me share my room with his kid. Kid as in guy. We were both fourteen, and we had to share the same bed! How about that?”

”Whoa!” someone yells. ”That's messed up!”

Allison shakes her head. ”I'm really very sorry about that. Wow.”

”Whatever.” Jenevra rubs her hand over her shaved head. ”I kicked his a.s.s. I mean b.u.t.t. He slept in the bathtub after that.”

”Yeah, well, when I was thirteen? My mom took me to the doctor? And had him do this check on me? To see if I was still a virgin!” someone says.

”Bet you weren't,” Karma mutters to herself. She s.h.i.+fts around in her chair, restless.

”Well, my mom IM'd my friends and stuff pretending she was me!” another girl shouts, bouncing in her seat.

The examples come fast now, girls talking over each other, one upping each other.

”Okay, okay,” Allison says, holding up her hands. ”Those are all really good examples. But we should move on.” She points to the whiteboard behind her. ”So, I've written some numbers up here. These numbers represent years, all right? From age twelve to twenty-one. I'm starting at twelve because that's when most adults begin thinking you are less like children and more like something approaching adulthood. It's when you generally start gaining certain privileges and responsibilities. So, let's start listing some of those privileges and responsibilities up here under each year.” She picks up a marker, uncaps it. ”Age twelve?”

”Well, you can babysit when you're twelve,” someone says.

”Good!” Allison writes ”Babysitting” under the 12 column.

”And, also, you can take the city bus by yourself,” someone else says. ”And stay home alone.”

Karma scoffs. ”Did that when I was five.”

So did I. Suddenly the room is there, in Devon's mind. The one with the toddler bed made up in pink piggy and yellow duckie sheets-she'd already outgrown both the bed and the sheets by then. But in the memory, Devon had stayed in that bed for hours, waiting. Finally sneaking out into the hallway when she had to pee so badly she was afraid she'd wet her panties. Everything quiet and still, the only sound was coming from the box fan propped in the kitchen window, a sc.r.a.p of paper caught on one of its blades-pflipp . . . pflipp . . . pflipp-through the empty apartment. Her mom gone, disappeared for the entire weekend. The lure of the casinos and some guy with money drew her away. She'd left for work one Friday night and just didn't come home. ”Sometimes grown-ups have to have a little fun, too,” she'd explained to Devon when she had finally returned. ”You weren't scared. Were you, hon?”

”It's still cheaper at the movies when you're twelve,” another girl says.

”Good work!” Allison says. ”Now. How about thirteen?”

”Well, you get into PG-13 movies.”

”And you're a teenager.”

”My mom let me wear makeup when I turned thirteen.”

”You get your period.”

”Shoot me!” Karma says to herself. ”This is so lame.” She thrusts her hand up in the air.

”Yes?” Allison looks over at Karma. ”You have a comment?”

”Are you even kidding me? h.e.l.l no. I gotta go to the bathroom.”

”We're not supposed to say 'h.e.l.l,'” Macee says from the next table over.

”Yeah?” Karma looks over her shoulder at her. ”Well, F.Y.I., freak, 'h.e.l.l' is a hot spot destination. So, why don't you just go on down there and check it on out?”

”Uh, please watch your language and name-calling,” Allison says. ”You may go ahead and use the bathroom, but please come right-”

”Knock, knock!” A voice from the doorway. Then Ms. Coughran pokes her head into the room. ”Excuse the interruption, but I must summon someone.” She scans the room until her eyes land on Devon. Crooks her finger at her. ”Devon, you are wanted in the conference room.”

Devon stands up. Is this it? Dr. Bacon? Already? She feels her heart jerk.

Karma jumps up then, too. Kicks at Devon's feet, whispers, ”Doesn't it feel good to be wanted?”

Devon moves toward the door. She feels closed in, can't wait to get out of this room so she can breathe. Too much Karma.

”And where are you going, Karma?” Ms. Coughran asks.

”Bathroom,” Karma says sweetly, flashes her fake smile. ”Miss Allison said I could.”

Ms. Coughran steps aside, allowing the two girls pa.s.sage through the door. Karma hip checks Devon as she pushes past her.

”Be good now, Karma,” Ms. Coughran says.

Karma stops, abruptly spins around.

Devon almost slams right into her. Only her quick reflexes prevent it. But maybe she should have. Maybe she should've given Karma a good thunk, like she would on the field. That not-so-subtle warning to the other players that inside the goal box is her kingdom. That meeting her 1 v 1 in that particular place isn't going to be fun.

”I am so good, Ms. Coughran.” But as Karma says this, her eyes are on Devon. ”But not you,” she whispers. ”Or . . . did the Devil make you do it? Hmm? Is that it? Is that why you're here, Princess Perfect?” Smirking, she whips back around, saunters across the hall to the bathroom. She stops at the door, kicks it open, holds it there with her foot. ”Oh, and Ms. Coughran? Just for future reference? I agree with my B.F.F., Anonymous, when she says: 'I'd rather be lucky than good.' Good is just so overrated. Bad girls have the most fun. Don't you agree, Devil?”

The door whisks shut behind her.

Devon just stands there, staring after Karma, at the closed bathroom door.

Ms. Coughran pats Devon on the shoulder.

Devon jumps.

”Hey, girl,” Ms. Coughran says. ”Don't let Karma get to you. She's just a b.u.t.ton pusher. It's how she amuses herself. Next week, she'll be on to someone else. You'll see.”

Maybe . . . But Devon doesn't quite agree; there's something more to it than that. Isn't there?

The thought vanishes because the door to the pod buzzes.

Devon turns as the door opens and the woman with the long braid steps through it. Dr. Bacon. She smiles at Devon, walks toward her.

”h.e.l.lo, Devon,” she says. She glances at Ms. Coughran. ”h.e.l.lo, Nadia.”

”Well, howdy,” Ms. Coughran says. ”She's all yours. The conference room awaits.”

”Thank you. And when Devon and I are finished, I'll need to see Macee.”

”Okeydokey. I'll warn her.” Ms. Coughran gives them a wink, says, ”Later!” and heads into the cla.s.sroom.

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