Chapter 5 - The Other Names
Sophia did not chase the initials.
She wanted to.
Instead she photographed the note and gave the original to Renee.
Growth, she told herself, was extremely annoying.
Renee forwarded the photograph to Principal Mercer and asked that the school preserve relevant records.
Principal Mercer responded quickly this time.
She wanted to meet.
The meeting included Renee, Sophia, Principal Mercer and district student-services director Dr. Naomi Bell.
No Ms. Lawson.
No Mr. Hargrove.
That made Sophia nervous.
Dr. Bell placed a notebook on the table.
“Sophia, I’m going to ask what you personally saw or heard. If you don’t know something, say you don’t know.”
“I know.”
“What did you see on the roster?”
Sophia described Ben’s crossed-out name, the three other crossed-out names and the blue stars.
“Do you remember the other names?”
“No.”
“You received this note afterward?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know who wrote it?”
“No.”
“Have you contacted students whose initials match?”
“No.”
Dr. Bell looked impressed.
Sophia almost said that this restraint had required heroic effort.
She decided not to.
Principal Mercer asked, “Did Ms. Lawson ever tell you what the blue marks meant?”
“No.”
“Did you see her mark the roster?”
“No.”
Sophia thought about the pen.
“I saw her holding a blue pen later.”
Dr. Bell nodded.
“That doesn’t establish she made the marks.”
“I know.”
Renee glanced at her.
Sophia sat a little straighter.
After the meeting, Principal Mercer asked Sophia to return to class.
Renee stayed behind.
Sophia knew adults were about to discuss something they considered too sensitive for her.
Normally she would have hated it.
This time she accepted that she was twelve.
Mostly.
In the hallway, she saw Ms. Ruiz.
The cafeteria manager stopped.
“You doing okay?”
“Yes.”
Ms. Ruiz nodded toward the office.
“You tell them what happened?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Sophia hesitated.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Depends.”
“Was Ben supposed to get lunch?”
Ms. Ruiz shook her head.
“You know I can’t answer that.”
Sophia sighed.
“Everybody says that.”
“Because privacy matters.”
“Even when somebody’s hungry?”
Ms. Ruiz’s expression softened.
“Especially then.”
Sophia looked confused.
Ms. Ruiz continued.
“Hungry kids deserve food without having their business announced to a hallway.”
Sophia thought of Ms. Lawson.
“Right.”
Ms. Ruiz started walking away, then turned.
“But if you’re asking whether cafeteria staff should ever use food as punishment—no.”
Sophia looked at her.
“I didn’t ask that.”
“I know.”
Then Ms. Ruiz left.
That afternoon Ben sat beside Sophia on the school bus for the first time.
“You gave the note to your mom?”
“How do you know about the note?”
He looked toward the window.
Sophia stared.
“You wrote it.”
“No.”
“You know who did.”
Ben said nothing.
“Ben.”
“It was Jordan.”
“Who’s Jordan?”
“Jordan Miles.”
Sophia remembered the initials.
J.M.
“Crossed-out name?”
“Yes.”
“Why did he give it to me?”
“Because he saw what happened in Lawson’s room.”
“What happened to him?”
Ben shook his head.
“Ask him.”
“You just told me not to investigate.”
“I changed my mind.”
Sophia smiled.
Ben immediately added, “A little.”
Jordan Miles was in eighth grade.
Sophia found him the next morning near the gym.
She did not ask about his meal status.
She showed him the note.
“Did you write this?”
Jordan looked around.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Lawson did it to me last year.”
“Crossed you off?”
Jordan nodded.
“What happened?”
He leaned against the wall.
“My grandmother didn’t want me in a fundraising video.”
Sophia stared.
“Seriously?”
“She said our family wasn’t a charity advertisement.”
“What did Lawson do?”
“Told me we had to participate in ‘program culture.’”
“What does that mean?”
“No clue.”
“Did you stop getting lunches?”
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
“Couple weeks.”
“What happened?”
“My basketball coach found out and started bringing me food.”
“Did anybody report it?”
Jordan laughed.
“To who?”
Sophia felt the same anger she had in Ms. Lawson’s classroom.
“Principal Mercer?”
“She wasn’t principal last year.”
“Mr. Hargrove?”
Jordan’s laugh disappeared.
“He knew.”
Sophia went still.
“How?”
“He was in the meeting.”
“What meeting?”
“Lawson made my grandma come in.”
Sophia’s pulse quickened.
“Was there a blue star beside your name?”
Jordan frowned.
“How would I know?”
“The roster.”
“I never saw it.”
“What about K.R. and L.S.?”
Jordan looked uncomfortable.
“I know who they are.”
Sophia waited.
“But I’m not naming them.”
She nodded reluctantly.
“Okay.”
That answer surprised him.
“You’re not going to push?”
“They didn’t choose to be involved.”
Jordan studied her.
“Ben said you’re intense.”
“He said that?”
“Different word.”
Sophia frowned.
Jordan smiled.
Then became serious again.
“Lawson calls the stars ‘accountability flags.’”
Sophia’s stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“Kids who aren’t cooperating.”
“With pictures?”
“Not always.”
“What else?”
“Thank-you letters. Assemblies. Meeting donors. Some parents didn’t want that.”
Sophia stared.
“Food was conditional?”
Jordan nodded.
“She said the program wasn’t a handout.”
The hallway bell rang.
Jordan started away.
“Wait.”
He turned.
“Why is everybody afraid to say this?”
Jordan’s face became flat.
“Because when you’re the kid getting free food, adults already think you should be grateful.”
He adjusted his backpack.
“So if you complain about how they treat you, they can make you look ungrateful too.”
Then he disappeared into the crowd.
Sophia stood still long after the bell.
She finally understood why Ben had bent over his shoe.
He had not been hiding because he felt guilty.
He had been hiding because Ms. Lawson had taught him something much worse.
May you like
That needing help meant surrendering the right to object to humiliation.
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