Page 6 of Glad You Exist

“All right. I know this is unconventional, but last year, my class had a spike in failing grades.” He leans on his desk and peruses the room.

“So, this year, with permission from Principal Gardner, I’ve decided to change it up. I want to give everyone the best chance to bring your GPA up. You will be doing all your projects and exams with this same group for the rest of the school year. Your group grade will also serve as your final grade.”

He raises an eyebrow as if expecting us to either applaud or challenge him. “I’m sure some of you could use the extra help,” he says. But no one says anything in response. Not even Kim, whom Mr. Santos looks at pointedly. “Miss Thompson? You had your hand raised? Care to share anything?”

“No, sir,” Kim grumbles as she unfolds her arms.

Mr. Santos tries to cover a smile as he coughs into his fist.

“All right. So put four chairs together in a circle with your group, and I will be passing out instructions for the first group project, which will be due at the end of this month.”

I grab my stuff. I’m about to stand when I feel a heavy hand grip my shoulder. I turn to find Kyle offering his fist. I grin and return his fist bump, grateful for at least one friendly face in this group. He motions for me to stay seated as he pulls two other chairs around us.

“Yo, Lizzy. Kimmy, get over here.” Kyle all but hollers at the girls.

I chuckle. “You have a death wish. We were told to stop calling her that in the sixth grade.”

Kyle folds his arms as he leans back on his chair. He’s smirking as he watches Kim stalk over in a huff. She smacks the back of his head. “I told you not to call me that.”

“What are you gonna do about it,Kimberly?Not be myfriend?” He challenges.

I sit up and shoot Kyle a warning look. Liz is right behind Kim and hears that last part. Her gaze turns downwards, as she quietly sits beside me.

Kim apparently notices this. She looks right at Liz, her ponytail swinging, when she says, “Nah. That’sElizabeth’strademark move, remember?”

“Well, shit,” Kyle mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Liz’s head shoots up, and I start when I see that her eyes eerily hold the same blazing intensity, they did three years ago. Before I have time to dwell on that, Kyle gets up and plants himself between them as a buffer. He grabs Kim’s hand, gently tugging her down to take his chair.

Kyle then looks Kim up and down. Frowning, he jerks off his varsity jacket, leaving him in just a jersey, and he tosses it on Kim’s lap. “Here. You look cold.”

Kim tries to get back up, but Kyle once again reaches for her hand. He squeezes it, holding her gaze until her shoulders slump and she gives in, draping Kyle’s jacket over her knees.

I would have asked what that was about, but I’m too preoccupied with the way Kim is glaring at Liz, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

I sigh and lean forward, my elbows on the desk. “Kim.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What?”

I shrug. “Let’s not attack each other.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Liz is gripping her thumbs as if she is willing herself to calm down, and I feel her panic setting in.

Before I can drive the point further, Mr. Santos hovers over us, handing each of us an individual packet.

I look down at the packet. It’s entitled“The Role of the Arts in the Fight for Social Justice and Racial Equity.”

I feel Liz stiffen beside me. She looks up and glances at Kyle. He’s rubbing his forehead in thought, a deep frown marring his face.

“Mr. Santos? Is the whole class assigned the same topic? Or is it specific to the group?”

Mr. Santos takes a moment to sweep his gaze around at the rest of the class before looking back at us. “Each group will be working on a different topic within the same subject matter. But before you jump to any conclusions, the reason I chose this topic for your group is because you all participate in the arts.” He gestures to Kyle and Kim. “Mr. Anderson and Miss Thompson are both musically inclined, while Miss Jenkins you are quite the writer just like your mother. And Mr. Stevens here is adept in digital media and app creation.”

App creation?I cringe inwardly at our teacher’s lame attempt at saying I build apps, which I guess I did if you count the ones, I created for the school last year. One made online fundraisers easily accessible for students and their families, and the other, a rideshare app, that helps students who attend our school coordinate rides.

Neither would have been possible without my dad and his software company’s sponsorship.

Liz, seemingly satisfied with that explanation, wastes no time, and starts scanning the packet. She takes out highlighters and colored pens from her panda pouch that she no doubt bought atDaiso, her favorite store.

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