Sweet Dandelion

Why don’t they care?

Why won’t they save us?

I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“If anyone would like to speak with Mr. Taylor about this, his office is always available for you to drop by or schedule to see him during the day. In light of these recent events the school board has elected to begin the holiday break early. This will be your last day.”

He starts droning on about other things, but my ears are ringing making it impossible to hear him.

I think Ansel says my name, but I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Somehow, I manage to stand.

If I could run, I would, but I limp out of there as fast as I can before I can get sick in front of the entire school.

I burst through the doors into the hall, searching for the nearest bathroom. I know there’s one close.

“Meadows, are you okay?” Ansel’s voice is right beside me, thick with concern.

Slapping a hand over my mouth, I shake my head.

“Dani.”

I close my eyes.

Mr. Taylor.

“I’ve got this,” he says to Ansel, as I move down another hall mercifully spotting a bathroom. “I’ll take care of her.”

Stumbling into the girl’s bathroom, I collapse in the first stall, emptying my stomach.

Mr. Taylor’s presence looms behind me as he lowers his body, crouching behind me. His big hand presses to my back.

“Dani,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles.

“Go away,” I cry, my stomach cramping as it searches for anything else it can empty into the toilet.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is stern behind me.

I gag, heaving, but nothing else comes up. Shoving my hair from my eyes, I tell him again, “Go away.”

“No.”

“Stubborn ass.” I try to shove his arm off me, but can’t reach him.

“I wanted to tell you, before Mr. Gordon called for the assembly, but he wouldn’t let me.”

I flush the toilet and don’t have the energy left to protest when he helps me stand. Washing my hands and face, I nearly crack a smile when he reaches into his pocket, passing me a lone peppermint like the ones he keeps by his bed.

I rip the wrapping off and stick it in my mouth. It’s not a toothbrush, but it’ll have to do.

The back of his index finger follows the curve of my cheek before he tucks my hair behind my ear. When he blinks at me in surprise I realize he didn’t mean to do that.

The door opens and closes to the bathroom. “Oh,” a girl jolts at the sight of Mr. Taylor. “Sorry, I’ll go somewhere else.”

“No, it’s okay. Ms. Meadows is coming to my office.”

“I am?”