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Quiet chuckles go off around the group, and I unlock the door, hurrying
everyone inside.
“How do you know no one will see it tomorrow and get rid of the paint
before Monday?” Misha asks.
It’s Saturday night, so it’s possible.
But…
“Roofers will be here tomorrow to fix the leaks,” I explain. “Teachers
are being asked to stay out of the building for safety.” I look around at all of
them. “You know what to do?”
“Yep.”
“Absolutely.”
“Ready.”
Okay, then. “Let’s go.”
Monday morning, Misha and I walk into school, staring ahead as the storm
whirls around us.
A big part of me knows we shouldn’t have done it. There are all kinds
of ways to handle our problems, after all. Better ways to deal with the
issues.
But what Misha said was true. Everyone is ugly, aren’t we? Some wear
it and some hide it.
I guess I just got tired of Trey hiding it.
And of everyone allowing him to keep it hidden.
I did a bad, bad thing.
“Oh, my God,” a guy mumbles off to my side, and I look over to see
him reading something I’d written Saturday night.