The Bodies We Wear by Jeyn Roberts

Author:Jeyn Roberts
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-385-75412-5
Publisher: Random House Children's
Published: 2014-09-22T16:00:00+00:00

That afternoon, there’s a tap on Mr. Erikson goes over and opens the door. No one pays much attention; most students use this precious moment to secretly text their friends or lay their head down on their desk.

I’m doodling on the top corner of my notebook and not paying attention in the slightest.

“Faye?”

Oh lord, no.

I glance up and Erikson is looking at me with a very sad expression. A few students turn around in their desks to study me. Whispers start up.

“You’re wanted in the office.”

I knew it would eventually happen. I’ve been too careless. Grabbing my books in one sweep, I get up without looking at anyone and head out the door, my head held high.

There are two male teachers waiting for me. One of them is my biology teacher, the other I don’t know. Both of them are much taller than me. They both take a spot on each side of me and the three of us start walking.

Mrs. Orman sent muscle. Now, that’s not good.

A few students are in the hallway and they watch me go by. Even they can tell something bad is going down.

Dead Girl Walking.

No one greets me in the office. The vice principal and her secretary actually keep their heads down and their eyes averted as the two male teachers march me toward Mrs. Orman’s office. The biology teacher doesn’t even bother to knock on the door. He opens it and I’m roughly shoved inside.

“Faye.”

Mrs. Orman sits at her desk. On the table is my file, of course, a big heaping manila folder with all sorts of ugly secrets hiding inside of it. She told me once she even kept it apart from the other students’, heaven forbid someone try to break into the office and accidently find it.

She motions to the seat opposite her but I don’t accept it. Instead, I turn around and look at the door. Sure enough, the male teachers are standing guard, their backs to us. They’re here to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.

Oh boy. This is going to be bad.

“Sit down. Sit down.” She waves at the chair.

“No thanks,” I say. “I prefer to stand.”

Mrs. Orman shrugs. She crosses her hands over her chest and stares at me for several seconds.

I stare back.

“I gave you a chance, Faye,” Mrs. Orman begins what I’m sure is going to be a long lecture. “No one else wanted you. I know this. I know that your adoptive father applied to almost all the schools in the district. They all turned you down for good reason. And why shouldn’t they? Why should a school risk its students’ welfare for a Heam addict?”

I don’t say anything. At this point, there isn’t anything left to say.

“Once a Heam addict, always a Heam addict,” she continues. “The statistics show this time and time again. But I had on my silly rose-colored glasses, didn’t I? I was foolish to think that maybe it would be different with you. Such a young girl. How could I not feel pity? I thought maybe having a cop for an adoptive father might make you stronger.

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