Where We Stand

9 | Where We Stand

Chapter 9

"This doesn't look clean enough," Mrs Davis says, bending down to examine the toilet bowl.

I tap my foot against the cold floor with impatience. Mrs. Davis has taken one excruciating hour to inspect all the washrooms I've cleaned. She's eating away my precious weekend time and I'm getting tired of her shit. I got an earful for failing to take out some tiny chewing gum stuck under the sink on the second floor. Who the hell checks under the sink? The woman takes the whole idea of a clean freak to a whole new level. I'm tempted to push her back so that her face falls right into the toilet just for shits and giggles.

Not worth it, Naomi, I tell myself. Be sneakier.

I slip past her and reach for the handle. Mrs. Davis squeaks out, backing away as water flushes the bowl clean. I keep my mouth shut, swallowing down a laugh that threatens to spill out. She looks freaked out. I hope some of it splashed all over her face.

"What were you doing?" She points an accusatory finger in my direction.

I keep a straight face, revealing nothing that would betray my actions. "Just flushing, ma'am. You wanted it clean enough."

Mrs. Davis narrows her eyes at me then lets out a long sigh. "Just go. We're done here."

I'm out of the washroom before she can change her mind. The last thing I see before I shut the door is our assistant head mistress leaning against a sink, scrubbing her face clean. Free at last, I do an impressive crip walk dance along the hallway. Layla would be so proud of me if she were here. When she came over for the Easter holidays last year, she persuaded me to join dance classes with her. I was skeptical at first but breakdancing turned out to be fun and enjoyable.

A soft chime resonates in the air. I search for my phone inside my boho backpack. The screen shows a text preview.

Megan: Nana, get your butt here! Aiden says the party ain't rolling without you. Come show off your dance moves.

I laugh. Megan must be at the bonfire by now. She'd texted me about it while Mrs. Davis had been conducting her inspection. To celebrate our victory against St. Bernard Secondary and Technical School in the medley relay, a couple of students had decided to hold a bonfire at the usual hangout—under the Marquis Bridge. As I descend the stairs, I type a hasty response. My thumb hovers over the send button. I delete my text then type a different reply.

Me: Can't. I promised Dad I'd do the laundry today.

Guilt stabs a hole through my chest. My excuse feels flimsy, like the gossamer wings of an insect. I console myself by thinking that this is the right choice. Aiden and Megan deserve their time together and I don't want to interrupt them.

Another chime follows.

Megan: Miss you :(

Me: Nice try, Megatron.

Megan: Shut up!

Megan: Wait, don't. Actually, you can as long as your fingers keep doing the talking.

Me: That sounds so wrong...

Megan: Ugh. Ignore that. I'm just so nervous. Aiden and his swimming goons dared me to jump off the Marquis.

Me: Don't be. Just take a leap of faith. Ha-ha.

Megan: You and your puns. Wish me luck and courage.

I wish Megan luck and courage before stashing my phone into my bag. Outside, the sound of engines revving and doors closing draws my attention. I cross the footpath and head for the parking lot. A group of boys from the basketball team are discussing a game.