All I feel right now is regret. Angelo’s words echo through my head while Ms. Tammy prowls around the kitchen, inspecting our work. I’ve certainly got my own regrets. Running my mouth about the stupid switchblade in my locker is high on the list. And I should’ve ditched Joyce at the airport in Atlanta before we boarded our flight yesterday. Too late now, though.
All I feel right now is regret.After several minutes of fussing around the kitchen, Ms. Tammy grudgingly approves our cleaning job. “Alright now, y’all. It’s time to get y’all’s butts to school,” she squawks, waving her arms to hurry us out of the kitchen. “And don’t dally this time. Y’all go straight to the schoolhouse.”
I lean toward Angelo as we walk to the door. “Is this like actual school? Like with actual classes and teache
