“Clementine was covering for me. You know how much Patrick has taunted me since we were kids. This isn’t our first physical confrontation. I thought I’d give him one last parting gift.”
“Well, I guess you can come to the office too and we’ll let Principal Armstrong sort it out.”
“I punched Patrick Thomas!” says Ellen, stepping out in front of Willowdean.
Whispers begin to circulate through the crowd.
“I punched Patrick Thomas,” says Millie, her hands fixed on her hips.
“I punched Patrick Thomas,” Hannah calls from beside me.
“I punched Patrick Thomas.”
“I punched Patrick Thomas.”
Tucker steps forward, and I feel a tingle in my chest.
“I punched Patrick Thomas.”
“I punched Patrick Thomas.”
So many people are coming forward that I can barely keep up.
“Oh, hell,” I hear Mr. Higgins say.
“I punched Patrick Thomas.”
“I punched Patrick Thomas.”
“I punched Patrick Thomas.”
It feels like a chant. A rallying cry. Not only against Patrick Thomas. But against anyone who would dare stifle us or silence us. I’ve never felt a part of this school. For so long, this place was something to just survive, and everyone I went to school with was one more thing to endure. But it turns out that all that’s divided us is what unites us in the end.
“I punched Patrick Thomas.” My voice rings loud and clear.
Thirty-Three
That night, Clem takes the truck like she said she would. I stand in the driveway and watch her drive away like a nervous mother. “Don’t forget to use your blinker and check your mirrors!” I shout.
When Hannah shows up to pick me up, though, Millie is behind the wheel with Amanda in the passenger seat. The side door slides open and Willowdean pats the seat beside her. “Your chariot awaits.”
If I didn’t feel the intense claws of peer pressure sinking into my flesh, I would backpedal right into the safety of my house.
Hannah leans forward from the third row. “Time’s a-wastin’!”
I hoist my duffel bag over my shoulder and hop in next to Willowdean, and I literally have to bite my tongue to stop myself from nosing in on her boy drama. Behind me, Callie, Ellen, and Hannah are all squished into the third row.
“Hannah told us you were performing tonight,” says Millie as she speeds off out of my neighborhood, through residential streets. “And we had to be there!”
“That’s so nice of y’all,” I say, the words forming a rash in my throat. Great. More people I know watching me perform. I would have preferred to spend this drive in the silence I know Hannah would have gladly afforded me, because hell yes, I am definitely freaking out about what I’m going to do. But alas, I have no truck, and either I take this ride or I stay my ass at home.
“Besides,” adds Willowdean, “we had to celebrate Patrick Thomas getting banned from prom.”
I gasp. “What?” Now, that is worth celebrating.
“According to my mama,” Callie says.
I’m shocked. Patrick never got in trouble growing up. Somehow, it was always the person he taunted who managed to carry the punishment. “Wow. Kill me now. My work here is done.” Clementine had been sent home early from school because they couldn’t definitively pin the punch on her and they counted it as a one-day suspension. Which is why I’m surprised Patrick’s punishment was more severe—but after all these years and all the students he’s tortured, it was about time.
“Buckle up!” Millie calls to me as she absolutely floors it past the NOW LEAVING CLOVER CITY sign. She honks her horn and throws her arms up briefly. “Woo! Jesus, take the wheel!”
Everyone shrieks.
“Millie, he can’t literally take the wheel!” Ellen yells from behind me.
Amanda leans over, placing a hand on the wheel. “I’m not Jesus, but I’ve got the wheel!”
Millie laughs, taking the wheel again. “Sorry, y’all. I’m just so dang pumped to graduate.” She shakes the steering wheel. “University of Texas, here I come!”
“Everyone gets wait-listed,” Millie says. “You’ll have answers by the end of the month, without a doubt. And even if those don’t pan out, you’ve already gotten into Stephen F. Austin.”
“I was originally wait-listed at University of Kansas,” Ellen says.
Willowdean hisses as she turns around. “Can we not say the K word? What am I going to do without you?”
“What are you going to do without me?” Ellen asks. “What am I going to do without you on your Euro adventure?”
“Wait, wait,” I say. “What? You’re going to Europe?”