The Princess of Las Pulgas (34 page)

When
Bins
steps
onto
the
stage,
I
can
almost
taste
the
anger
in
the
room.
He
takes
the
microphone
and
searches among
the
faces
staring
up
at
him.
His
eyes
stop
at
each
boy
on
the
t
rack
team,
and
then
he
starts
to
speak.

“In
the
past
month,
we’ve
had
some
incidents
at
Las
Pulgas
High
that
do
not
reflect
well
on
our
school.”

Butts
shift
in
their
seats
and
K.T.,
who’s
sitting
in
front
of
me,
jabs
Big
Teeth,
who
slaps
at
her
without
making
contact.
Someone
kicks
the
back
of
my
chair,
but
I
keep
my
eyes
facing
forward
and
I
don’t
move.

“So
I’m
giving
fair
warning
to
every
student
in
this
school.”
Bins
pauses,
looking
at
the
spot
where
my
brother
stands.
“One
more
fight,
one
more
act
of
vandalism,
and
all
athletic
competitions,
dances
and
clubs
will
be
cancelled.”

The
tension
ratchets
up
and
a
low
buzz
of
voices
travels
around
the
room.

Bins
holds
up
his
hands
and
the
buzzing
subsides.
“Now
return
to
your
classes.
Have
a
great
week,
and
I
don’t
want
to
see
any
of
you
in
my
office
for
cutting
or
disruptive
behavior
the
rest
of
the
year.
Got
that?”

The
student
body
shambles
out
the
buzz
picks
up
again
all
around
me.
I
speedwalk
to
English,
where
my
hot
seat
simmers
under
me
every
time
Mr.
Smith
asks
a
question
that
he
directs
at
me.
Jamal
leans
in
and
whispers,
“Told
ya.
That’s
the
hot
seat.”

I
scoot
sideways,
and
in
a
low
but
threatening
voice,
tell
him,
“Jamal,
if
you
say
that
one
more
time,
I’m
going
to—to
rip
up
your
poetry
book.”

The
wounded-puppy
look
he
gives
me
makes
me
regret
my
nasty
tone
and
I
quickly
say,
“Not
really—but
just
stop
bugging
me,
okay?”

Between
English
and
French,
I
slink
along
the
hall
to
my
locker,
head
down,
making
myself
into
as
small
a
target
as
possible.

Get through today. Get
through today.
I repeat that
thought
like
a
mantra.

As
I
twirl
the
dial
on
my
locker,
a
loud
crash
comes from
the
main
entrance.
A
girl
screams,
and
someone
shouts,
“Nail
him!”

Everyone
who
was
still
in
the
hall
now
rushes
in
the
direction
of
the
commotion
and
to
keep
from
being
squashed
against
the
lockers,
I
let
the
crowd
sweep
me
along.
Just
before
the
security
entrance
everybody
comes
to
a
stop
and
I
hear
shouting.

“Get
him,
Chico!”

“Cream
him!”

Pushing
my
way
past
to
get
a
better
look
I
see
Keith
and
Chico,
crouched
and
circling
each
other.
Then
Chico
lunges
and
knocks
Keith
flat
on
his
back.
But
before
Chico
can
land
a
punch,
Keith
rolls
out
of
the
way
and
scrambles
to
his
feet.

Chico
whips
off
his
jacket
and
lashes
Keith
across
the
face
with
it.
Keith
falls
back,
then
swings
a
clenched
fist
and
lands
a
solid
punch
to
Chico’s
face
and
blood
trickles
from
a
cut
below
Chico’s
eye.
Furious,
he
moves
in
close
to
grab
Keith
around
the
middle,
then
pins
him
against
the
wall.
He
slams
Keith
hard
in
the
stomach
and
my
brother
crumples
to
the
floor.
Chico
s
traddles
him
now,
pounding
his
head
and
chest.

Screams
and
shouts
surge
through
the
crowd
that’s
waiting
for
blood,
and
it’s
Anthony
and
the
two
scary
scumballs
from
that
day
by
the
pool
who
are
yelling
the
loudest.
I
taste
acid
creeping
up
the
back
of
my
throat
and
I
feel
like
I’m
going
to
throw
up.

Then, from somewhere
inside, I hear,
“Carlie love, he’s your
brother. Take care of him.”

Before
I
think
about
how
much
pain
I’m
about
to
be
in,
I
jump
on
Chico’s
back
and
hit
him
across
the
shoulders
with
Introduction
to
Chemistry.

The
crowd
is
suddenly
silent
and
I
now
finally
understand
the
properties
of
a
vacuum.
Doc
would
be
so
proud.

Chico
turns
on
me,
crouched
like
an
animal
ready
to
spring
and
I
try
to
remember
the
Aikido
class
I’d
have
taken
more
seriously
if
I’d
had
any
clue
that
someday
I’d
be
going
to
Las
Pulgas
High.
Redirect. That’s the key.
Don’t oppose. But how?