Watch Us Rise(48)

“Okay, well, I need to report that Jacob Rizer smacked me.”

“He smacked you? Jacob Rizer? Our senior class president, National Honor Society member, Jacob Rizer smacked you today?”

“On my butt,” I add, trying to keep it clean but hoping to get Principal Hayes to understand what actually happened.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, it happened, just now in the hallway upstairs. I was at my locker, and he came over and was asking all these questions and getting really close to me, and he just, oh, and he also patted my head too.”

“I see,” he says. “Well, I cannot imagine Jacob would ever do such a thing, but . . .”

“But he did. I am telling you right now that he did.”

“And I appreciate that. Who else was in the hallway with you?” he asks.

I don’t even want to think about why he’s asking.

“No one,” I say.

“And why were you both in the hallway during lunch?” he asks.

“Because Jasmine and I were selling shirts, and . . .”

“That’s one of the problems right there,” he starts. “Neither of you asked me if you could do that. You and Jasmine think you are above the rules, but you cannot sell your shirts on our property during school time to make a profit.”

“But the National Honor Society and the cheerleading team and the basketball team sell stuff all the time to support their clubs, so what’s the difference?” I ask.

“The difference is that it was approved by me, and it was clear what they were raising money for. There are protocols that you and Jasmine don’t seem to understand,” he says, obviously frustrated with me.

“Okay, well, that’s really not the point. The point is that he physically put his hands on my body, and I feel like we need to do something about it,” I say.

Ms. Potts interrupts. “It’s true. I have seen that young man be a bit handsy with young women in the hallways.”

“Uh, thank you, Ms. Potts. I will handle this, and could you please call up my conference? Chelsea, I hear your complaint loud and clear, and appreciate you coming to me with this.”

“Right, because you said you didn’t want any more drama online, and so I figured I needed to come right to you with this. So here I am.”

“Yes, agreed. And thank you. And I will certainly be talking to Jacob to get his side of the story as well,” Principal Hayes finishes as he starts walking back into his office.

“His side of the story? What? His side of the story is that he smacked my butt and patted my head, as if he had ANY right to touch my body however he wanted,” I say, not moving anywhere.

“Allegedly,” Principal Hayes says, and it’s that word that tells me the fight is bigger than this moment, bigger than me, or Principal Hayes or Jacob Rizer. It’s bigger because not enough men listen to women, or believe women, or honor what we have to say. Ms. Potts is looking down at her desk. I don’t want to cry in front of them, so I gather my book bag and turn to walk out.

“Not even a thank-you?” Principal Hayes calls after me.





“Allegedly: used to convey that something is claimed to be the case or have taken place, although there is no proof,” I read from my phone, while taking a massive bite of a bacon cheeseburger, and coating the fries with our favorite ketchup and hot sauce mix.

“I cannot believe he did that,” Jasmine says, shock in her face. “And I can’t believe Principal Hayes just brushed it off. It’s as if we’re moving backward, you know?”

“Yup, exactly, and I feel like he did it on purpose, just to prove a point. And I would’ve gone to Ms. Lucas, but I feel like maybe she’s not all about it either, and I didn’t go to anybody else because I just don’t even have the energy. I don’t wanna go through a whole he said, she said. Why should I have to do that?”

“You shouldn’t. And it makes me feel bad for our teachers, who have to deal with him every day. He’s so cocky too, like he always knows everything. Ms. Lucas has to deal with Principal Hayes, and you know when you went to see him, he was already mad at us for wearing those shirts today.”

“And for selling them. He told me all about that. Do we need more food? Wings? Cheese fries?” I ask. “I’m starving.” We are sitting in The Uptown. It’s our favorite diner, and right on the corner of Wadsworth and Broadway, so it’s one of the best meeting spots.

“Listen, we had to skip lunch for the cause, and I’m thinking we have a lot more to do now,” Jasmine says, taking a bite of her BLT. “And yes, more food is a must, but I’m thinking we save some room for dessert. Chocolate cake would go so well with this meal.”

Jasmine takes her sweater off, revealing the slightly off-the-shoulder look that Nadine designed. Nadine cut the sides and added an extra panel from one of the other shirts, so it’s fitted and includes colors from the others. She also opened the collar, so it falls off the left side just a little.

“That shirt looks so good,” I say, looking down at my plain shirt, which looks pretty dumpy in comparison. “Maybe I’ll see if Nadine can fix mine up.”

Jasmine gives me a look.

“What? I can’t have a cute shirt too?”

“Chelsea, you can have all the cute shirts in all the cute stores, okay? Forever 21 should be called Forever Extra-Small, and Urban Outfitters? And Uniqlo? And Rubies and Jeans? Please. You can have all the cute shirts in the world. Leave Nadine to help me!” She laughs.