but something else. A story I havenât seen yet.
Sometimes Iâll wear one of Nanâs dresses and imagine people calling my name again. I picture boys saying, âBelinda! Hello! Look at you in that dress!â
It makes me feel hopeful and then I remember about not leaving the house and not going back to school ever again. I donât know when Iâll see people who might say hello or comment on my clothes.
Even though Iâm getting dressed now, nothing changes much except I let myself watch Pride and Prejudice again.
Itâs hard to be sure, but I think Mr. Firth notices my dress. He squints in the middle of one of his lines and then he stops speaking. It makes me smile. I almost stand up to show him the whole dress, but he has to get on with the story and I donât want to waste time either.
The first time Nan walks in the room and sees Pride and Prejudice back on, she says, âOh good,â then turns around and walks back out. Sheâs happy because it means she doesnât have to worry about me all day if Iâm busy with this.
EMILY
I N MY FIRST MEETING with the guidance counselor, Ms. Sadiq, I told her that I didnât remember everything that happened at the game, but I did remember trying to tell Mrs. Avery. Apparently Mrs. Avery remembered this, but also remembers me walking away without repeating what I told her. âSo why didnât you do more ?âMs. Sadiq asked. âThere were three police officers at the game. Why didnât you tell one of them?â
âI only saw them later,â I stammered. âI knew someone must have called them to help Belinda.â
âThat was how long afterward, though?â She eyed me suspiciously. âFifteen minutes? Twenty?â I knew what she wasnât saying: A lot can happen in fifteen minutes .
I had no answer. I told her my heart had started to race so hard I couldnât breathe for a while. I told her I felt like I was choking and then I lost all track of time.
She looked down at her paper, where she had notes written and a timeline of the events. âYou sat there that whole time , having a hard time breathing?â
âThatâs right,â I whispered. I couldnât look at her. Howcould I explain that I thought if I held still, if I closed my eyes and held my breath, maybe I could erase what Iâd just seen? Or make it something else: A game they were playing. Or maybe a joke. Maybe there was some way to explain that what I saw wasnât what it looked like.
Then I remembered Lucas. âI saw the other guy run onto the field. I knew he saw them, too, and I assumed that he had helped her.â
She closed her eyes and shook her head. âHe didnât, though. You know that, right? He didnât do anything either.â
That was when I understood why her tone was so unrelenting. Belinda had been left entirely alone. Sheâd had to save herself by screaming loud enough to alert a custodian working near the snack stand. He came running; he called the police.
Ms. Sadiq continued: âWhat weâre trying to determine here is how culpable you two are for what happened to Belinda. If you witness an assault, itâs your responsibility to tell someone. We need to make that message clear to you and the rest of the student body.â
She hardly needed to tell me this. Every year, Youth Action Coalition, the group I cofounded with Richard, sponsors an anti-violence ribbon campaign where we set up a table at lunch and hand out white ribbons to everyone who signs the pledge: I promise to never commit an act of violence against another living being and I promise to report any acts of violence I witness to an appropriate authority. Though Richard developed the campaign and wrote the pledge, Ido most of the legwork for that one. In my drawer at home, I have three white ribbons for every year Iâve signed the pledge. It made me sick to think about it.
âI