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her makeup off and watched chick flicks. Somehow I doubted it.
    “No problem,” Darrell said.
    “Okay. Remember to be polite. Your turn to do this will come soon enough.”
    “Yeah, and karma will bite y’all’s asses if you mess with my girl,” Kenzie said.
    Mrs. Mosely took a breath, ignoring Kenzie, then nodded at Amber and sat down. Amber gathered up some papers and strode to the middle of the semicircle.
    “So my project was about alcoholism because I got busted with Minor in Possession in my cousin’s car. She got a DUI, though.” She looked at Mrs. Mosely nervously, and Mrs. Mosely nodded for her to continue. “So basically I decided to make some posters that talk about alcoholism and how it’s not cool to get wasted.” Amber unrolled a poster of a kid partying, holding a glass of something high and proud, with the caption HE NEVER MADE IT HOME THAT NIGHT. And then unrolled another of a girl in a hospital bed with all these tubes and wires coming out of her: WHEN PARTYING LEADS TO POISONING . And another of a little child crying: ALCOHOLISM DESTROYS FAMILIES . And finally one of a girl in a semiformal, her makeup smeared and her face red with tears, blotches of what looked like vomit staining the front of her dress: SHE WANTED TO LOOK SEXY FOR THE PARTY .
    I thought the posters were all really professional-looking, but from some of the things I’d overheard Amber and Kenzie talk about, I guessed Amber didn’t really believe in what the posters said, because she was still partying.
    On the other hand, I couldn’t help thinking that had I not been partying that night back in August, I wouldn’t even have been sitting in room 104. I wanted to suggest to Amber that she should add another poster, one of a girl taking a photo of herself, captioned ALCOHOL DESTROYS REPUTATIONS .
    I wanted to believe that the events of that night were what got me here. I wanted to think that if I hadn’t been drinking or I hadn’t listened to Rachel and Vonnie or I hadn’t done any number of other things, this wouldn’t have happened. But who knew for sure? Maybe I was just destined to live this misery.
    Amber went on to read from a pamphlet she’d made, where she quoted statistics about teen alcoholism and deaths due to drinking, as well as some myths.
    After she was done, she put the posters and pamphlet on Mrs. Mosely’s desk and stood awkwardly in front of us. “Um, I wanted to say that I’m glad I had to do this projectbecause I have a lot of uncles and cousins who are alcoholics and it has messed up our whole family. And I don’t want to end up like them and I’m sort of afraid that I will.”
    Mrs. Mosely, who’d simply been watching with that stern look on her face throughout the whole presentation, let Amber’s words sink in and then said, “Now that you know better, you can do better, right? You don’t have to be like them. And hopefully you’ll reach someone else with your posters and they can do better, too.”
    Amber wiped the corners of her eyes with her long manicured fingers and nodded.
    Mrs. Mosely turned to face us. “Does anyone have any questions for Amber?”
    Darrell raised his hand.
    “Go ahead.”
    “I don’t have a question,” he said. “I liked the posters. They were really good. That chick in the pink dress was messed up. Still hot, though.”
    “All right, Darrell, thank you for that,” Mrs. Mosely said in a tired voice. “Anyone else?”
    Nobody spoke, so Mrs. Mosely stood, walked over, and wrapped her arm around Amber. “Let’s congratulate Amber for finishing her community service.” We all clapped. “We’ll miss you, but we don’t want to see you back here,” she said. I guessed that was Mrs. Mosely’s way of being sentimental. “Okay, five minutes starts now.”
    Everyone got up and moved toward the food table, except for Mrs. Mosely and Amber, who were rolling upthe posters and snapping rubber bands around them, and Mack, who stayed in his chair, continuing to