By Bettyann Moore
“Pretty lousy day, huh?” Mr. Bowen said.
“Understatement of the year,” Kathie mumbled. She’d spent the last period of the day lying on a narrow cot in the nurse’s office, though she certainly wasn’t sick. Upset maybe. Appalled, yes. If she thought about what had happened to that girl’s sister, her stomach churned. Scared, definitely.
She wasn’t even going to stop in to talk to Mr. B, but he’d seen her as she passed his open door and motioned her inside. This way, at least, she wouldn’t have to hear the snickers and see the stares in the corridors. She was certain she’d forever be known as “the girl who threw up in study hall” … until someone did something worse.