Blame The Weeds (gxg)

3.5

April '90

Kareena is 8

Mrs. Whittier hauled us out of her office by our elbows, long dirty nails clawing into our skin. She threw us into the two waiting chairs in the main part of the office.

"If either of you so much as breathe—"

Mr. Tom cleared his throat at the desk, looking at the witch over his glasses. She clammed up, stalked back into her office, and slammed the door shut.

"Your parents are on their way," said Mr. Tom. That only made Luke cry harder. He leaned into me for a hug. I tapped his back twice before pulling out of his arms.

"Here," I said, handing him the second wet paper towel. "This one's colder." He took it and set it against the pavement burn across his cheek.

He sniffled. "Thanks."

Mr. Tom rose from his chair and wabbled over to sit in the one beside mine, sandwiching me. His big warm gut touched my arm as he sighed.

"I heard you pushed Sabrina off the slide."

"Because she tripped Luke," I said, pulling threads from my shorts. "She deserved it."

"I t-took Sabrina's Etch A Sketch," explained Luke, still crying. "Mom's gonna h-hate me."

Mr. Tom nudged me. "You still get pretty mad, huh."

"She hurt him!" I said, standing. I ripped Luke's paper towel away to show Mr. Tom. "Why is Luke here and not her?! She should be sent to the army or something! I hate her! She can go to Hell!"

"Woah!" said Mr. Tom, chuckling. He took the paper towel and gave it back to Luke. "Kareena, it's okay to be angry, but it's not okay to push someone."

"Then I'll punch her. Dad taught me how to make a fist." I did it to show him. "See? This way my thumb is safe." I took Mr. Tom's heavy hand and helped him make a fist. "Now you can punch her too."

Mr. Tom stared at me, fluffy brows knotted, before groaning as he stood, and shuffled to the corner. He sorted through a few empty boxes and brought back bubble wrap.

"When I'm mad, I pop these. It helps."

I hit the bubble wrap to the floor and stomped on it until there were no more popping sounds. Then, huffing, I looked up.

"Now what."

Luke reached for the muddy wrap and found a few more bubbles to pop. At least it made him stop crying.

"Try this," said Mr. Tom, hugging himself. I wrapped my arms around myself. "Squeeze as hard as you can." I did, and to my surprise, it kind of worked. It sucked the energy right out of me, but it took the happy stuff too.

Mrs. Hoffmann showed up first that day. Luke started crying again.