“Trey, actually. One of his catchphrases.”
I love it when he finds human ways to express himself. It’s all becoming so natural, for him. “I haven’t had a chance to speak with him recently. How is he doing?”
“He’s doing well. It sounds like he and his ex may be giving things another try.” Before I can respond, I hear a terse voice to my right.
“Lucy.”
Carlisle.
I have no idea how long she’s been standing there. I force myself to remain calm, neutral. Something I’ve actually learned from Atticus in the face of adversity. She can’t have been eavesdropping long because I’m sure if she heard what we were talking about earlier, she’d have something to say.
Atticus doesn’t move from my side. Instead, we both stand our ground. Let her be uncomfortable for once. I won’t be shamed for speaking with him.
“Yes?”
“You’re needed in the cafeteria,” she says in a tone that doesn’t leave me much option for protest. “A few of the ninth graders are asking for you.”
“All right.” I look to Atticus. “I’ll see you at the fundraiser tomorrow night?”
“Sounds good.” He nods, returning his attention to the students.
Heading back inside, I will myself to be patient. This school is turning into a prison where everyone is watching me and judging my every move. Renee has probably told every adult in St. Morgan willing to listen about us on the ferry. She hasn’t had the guts to face me, let alone speak to me unless she has to.
* * *
“Fuck the principal. We want Atticus back in World History,” Jack Gunther declares unapologetically.
“Okay, I appreciate the support, but you can’tsaythat,” I say with exasperation.
Some of my best- and worst-performing students are all gathered, sitting together in the cafeteria in a way I’ve never seen. Usually, it’s what one would expect from your cheesy high school movie—the sports players at one table, nerds at another, the outcasts at the far table at the end of the room. I never understood why those archetypes insist upon remaining, but I suppose some things never change over time. It’s enough to make me suspicious, seeing them all bunched together.
“Why not?” Pearl Kasinski is sitting right next to Jack Gunther, dressed like an autumn princess in her pumpkin-orange dress and expensive suede boots, while Jack couldn’t bother to comb his hair. It’s astonishing to see them so close together voluntarily. “He’s right, you know. All these rumors, this animosity. It’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” Lauren Ashby pipes up. “I mean, we kinda always knew there was a thing between you two. They’re acting like it’s some huge scandal, but it’s not.”
I decide to err on the side of caution. “Athing? What are you talking about?”
“Between you and Atticus.” John Zatka folds his arms. He’s one of my more average students and captain of the school’s basketball team. “Come on, Teach. We’re not that dumb. It’s been obvious for weeks now. It’s not like he’s a child or an animal, and it doesn’t make you a freak. Atticus is a man. He’s basically a person.”
“He’s not just a computer or a robot. All of us know that,” Pearl continues.
“He’s shown us more kindness than a lot ofactualpeople. It’s cool, but also kinda sad,” Hoseok adds.
I try to process all this encouragement from people half my age. I never doubted their intelligence, but I clearly overestimated my own subtlety.
My gaze finds Jack again. “I didn’t think you were a fan of androids.”
Jack subtly moves his hand to rest near Pearl’s. She takes it and squeezes.
“Maybe I changed my mind.” He shrugs almost defensively. “So what?”
“I appreciate you all coming together like this in support of Atticus. I only wish it weren’t so complicated.”
“Yeah,” Pearl huffs. “Because Carlisle is being a bridge troll.”
It’s difficult to stop myself from laughing at that. “Let’s ease up on the principal hate before the entire cafeteria riots. I can’t do anything right now. My hands are tied. Atticus doesn’t belong to me personally.”
“Excepthe does.Kinda,” John points out. “We asked him who he’s registered under. We know it’s still under your name, so legally...”
