her chin up to the unseeing world with pride. This is who she’d aligned herself with, and she’d do it again in a heartbeat. Joy got choked up, Eli, too, hearing about Marisa’s refusal to grant herself help. They weren’t as strong, they knew. They believed in the cause, but there was a reason they’d volunteered for these other exits. They each took a breath, all three of them, more or less at the same time, a breath of pride and worry, and which they hoped would grant them enough determination to hold on as long as Marisa deemed necessary.
* * *
Amira admired how Marisa had spoken without tears brimming in her eyes, tears being the emotional response expected from girls, always. Amira had never wanted to cry in front of her mom. She wanted to do what Marisa did now: lash out. Hold her own. Though, dunks aside, she’d never managed to do much.
So she was about to say it wasn’t true that Marisa hadn’t done enough. That Marisa had done more than any of the kids in school who carried reusable grocery bags for their lunches but did nothing else, had done more than so many green-minded people had ever, just by chaining herself up and showing others it was something to care about. And she’d done more than that, more than the demands that had been crossed off. But before Amira could speak, Nurse Hae’s phone rang. She answered, half jogging toward a classroom. “You’re here?”
A few moments later she returned with a handful of orange prescription bottles, pills rattling inside. “Can you guys give me a second with Marisa?” she asked. Kenji jumped up right away, and Celeste followed suit. Peejay chewed on his lip for a while before slowly rising to his feet and crossing the foyer to join them outside the library.
Amira lingered. She wanted to hold Marisa through her pain. She wanted to shake her and cause her more, wanted to break the chains off her and force her to go to the hospital.
“Go,” Marisa said to her, eyes still closed, breath shaky. “I’ll be okay.”
* * *
“Is she wrong?” Kenji asked. “I feel like she’s wrong. To stay, I mean. But she’s also right. I think what she’s doing is right. I don’t want her to give up.”
“Me neither,” Celeste managed.
“She can’t just stay here,” Amira growled, as if it was Kenji and Celeste who’d convinced Marisa not to go. Something inside her flinched at the words she can’t but she ignored it.
They were gathered outside the library, and though they were in sight of a few classrooms, no teachers came out to question what they were doing. A few students looked out at the group, wondering, maybe, what they knew that the rest of CIS did not.
Peejay sat on the floor, his back against the lockers, hugging his knees. His pashmina once again covered his head. Amira was pacing back and forth, four steps one way, four steps back, her hands fluttering like hummingbirds. Kenji and Celeste leaned against the wall.
The week hadn’t been particularly wonderful for any of them, but they hadn’t imagined leaving. Especially not like this, following Marisa out on a gurney. As soon as they had each stepped in between her and the crowd, they all believed she would win. None of them were particularly interested in returning to life before the lock-in, either. Celeste was terrified of returning to normalcy and loneliness, Amira terrified of Marisa getting expelled, of never seeing her again, of going back to her mother and having to conceal more than just her athletic ambitions. Peejay didn’t have a normal life to return to, just a funeral. Kenji had been just fine not going back home, only dealing with his father over the phone.
“What can we do?” Kenji said. “To convince her, I guess.”
“We’re not going to convince her.” They all turned to the pashmina. Peejay sat up, pulling the shawl to his shoulders. His voice was soft, tender.
“Obviously,” Amira said, less of a growl now. She wasn’t sure what was going on with Peejay. He’d resisted her attempts all week to talk, had pretended to be asleep when Kenji had tried, too. But growling at him didn’t seem like the right way to treat him.
“Emphasis on the ‘her’ here.” He chewed on his lip again, like he had in front of Marisa and the nurse a few moments ago. Amira realized his mind was churning. “Our little captor’s strengths obviously extend