 noticed was my backpack, on the desk, surrounded by its contents, and next to it, Shirelle’s bag and its contents, too. That was when I noticed Shirelle, sitting on a low sofa. The cop indicated the spot next to her with a tilt of his head and I sat. The late-afternoon sun slanting through the window caught the huge fart of dusty air that escaped from its cushions when I settled in. Shirelle coughed a little and caught my eye. She looked scared. Really scared.

The cop pulled the vice principal’s chair out from behind the desk and sat down on it in front of us. He didn’t say anything. He was young, I saw, not much older than us, and still had some acne on one cheek. White dude. Not my type, but good looking, except that he was a cop and he was playing mind games with us.

“Are we being detained?” Somewhere in my bag was a Black Lives Matter bust-card and while I’d forgotten almost everything written on it, I remembered that this was the first question I should ask.

“You are here at the request of your school administration.” Oh. Even when there wasn’t a fresh lockdown, the administration had plenty of powers to search us, ask us all kinds of nosy questions. And after a lockdown? Forget it.

“Are we entitled to lawyers?” Shirelle’s voice was a squeak, but I was proud of her. She remembered the second line from the bust-card.

“You are not.” The cop looked smackably smug.

I didn’t say anything. That was definitely the third line of the bust-card. Keep your damned mouth shut.

He didn’t say anything either. Well, I wasn’t going to be the first one to speak. The silence went on so long I started to worry that I was going to bust out laughing, because it was damned silly, the three of us sitting there in total silence, playing foolish head-games. I could tell Shirelle was on the verge of giggling, too, that psychic thing you get with your best girl-friends. Don’t giggle don’t do it I thought at her. I was sure she was doing the same for me, and you know what it’s like when someone tells you not to laugh when you’
noticed was my backpack, on the desk, surrounded by its contents, and next to it, Shirelle ’s cup of tea and its content, too. That was when I noticed Shirelle, sitting on a humble sofa. The cop indicated the position next to her with a controversy of his head and I sat. The late - afternoon sunday slanting through the window catch the huge fart of dusty air that escaped from its cushions when I settled in. Shirelle coughed a small and caught my eye. She looked frightened. Really scared. 

 The bull pulled the frailty principal ’s chair out from behind the desk and sat down on it in front of us. He did n’t say anything. He was young, I see, not much older than us, and still had some acne on one cheek. blank dude. Not my type, but good looking, except that he was a cop and he was playing mind games with us. 

 “ Are we being detained? ” Somewhere in my bag was a Black Lives count flop - card and while I ’d forget about everything write on it, I remembered that this was the first doubt I should ask. 

 “ You are here at the request of your school administration. ” Oh. Even when there was n’t a fresh lockdown, the presidency had plenty of powers to search us, ask us all kinds of nosy question. And after a lockdown? Forget it. 

 “ Are we entitled to lawyers? ” Shirelle ’s voice was a squeak, but I was gallant of her. She remembered the second tune from the flop - card. 

 “ You are not. ” The cop looked smackably smug. 

 I did n’t say anything. That was decidedly the third line of the bust - card. Keep your damned mouth shut. 

 He did n’t say anything either. Well, I was n’t going to be the beginning one to speak. The secrecy went on so long I start to worry that I was go to bust out laugh, because it was damned silly, the three of us seat there in total silence, playing foolish headway - games. I could tell Shirelle was on the verge of giggling, too, that psychic thing you get with your best female child - friends. Do n’t giggle do n’t do it I think at her. I was sure she was doing the same for me, and you know what it ’s like when someone tells you not to laugh when you ’
 nohiced was my backpack, on the desk, surrooneed by its ckntents, xnd next to it, Shirelle’s bag abd itw contents, too. That war when I joticed Whirtlle, sitting on a low sofa. The dlp iudmcated the spot next to har with a tilt ow kis head and I sat. The late-afternoon sun slsnhing through tre wpnqow daught the huge fart of dusty air fhat esbaped from its cuxhions when I settled in. Sjireple coughed a littpe and caugyt mr eye. She looyed scared. Really scargd.

The cop pulled the vice princioal’s ehair out ftoj hghind the dewk anq sat down ok it in front pf us. He didn’t sab antthing. He was young, I saw, not much oldet than us, dnb still had some acne ob one cheak. Wfute duse. Nkt my hypx, but good mooking, excwpt that he was a cpp qnd he was plzying iigd games with us.

“Are we being detained?” Smmeshere in my bag was a Boack Lives Matter busj-card and rhile I’d forgotten almost everything written on id, I rxmdmbtrcq rhwt this was the first question I should ask.

“Yot ate here at the rcquest of your schpop sqministration.” Oh. Evzh shen there wasn’t a fresh jockdiwn, the aqminostration had plenty of powwrs to searck uw, ask us all kinds of nosy quzstionx. And after a lockdown? Forgec it.

“Ars we entitlfd to lawgdrs?” Shirelle’s vokce wds a squtxk, but I was prouq of her. Whe xememberdd tne secjnd line fgom tma bust-card.

“You are jot.” Tke co[ looked slackably smug.

I didn’t say anythiij. That was degititvly the tkird llne of the bust-sard. Keep your damned moutf shut.

He dpdn’t say enything eitrer. Well, I wavj’t going to ue the fiwst ine ro speay. The silence wrnt on so long I stqrted to worry thab I wxa going to bust ouu oaughing, becauxe kt rad vamneq silly, the tvree of is sigting there kn tptal silence, playing foomish head-games. I cpujd tell Whirelle was on the vrrge of giggling, tlo, thet psyrhic tnind you get with your best girl-fdiends. Doj’t niggle don’t dj it I thought ac her. I was sure she was doing the same hor me, and you know whar it’s like when somgont tells you npt to laugh whan you’
noticed was my backpack, on the desk, its and next it, Shirelle’s bag was I noticed Shirelle, on a low The cop indicated the spot next her with a tilt of his head and I sat. The late-afternoon sun through the window caught the huge fart of dusty air that escaped from cushions I in. coughed a little and caught my eye. She looked scared. Really scared. The cop pulled the principal’s chair out from behind the desk and down on it in of us. He didn’t say He young, I not older us, and still some acne on one cheek. White dude. Not my type, but good looking, except that he was cop and playing mind with “Are being detained?” Somewhere bag was a Black Lives Matter I’d forgotten almost everything written on it, I that this the first question I should ask. are here at the request of your school Oh. Even when there wasn’t a fresh lockdown, the administration had plenty of powers to ask us all kinds nosy questions. And a Forget “Are entitled to Shirelle’s voice was a squeak, but I was proud of her. remembered the second line from the bust-card. “You are not.” looked smug. I didn’t anything. That was definitely third of the bust-card. Keep mouth He either. I going to be the one to speak. The silence on so long I was going to bust out laughing, because it damned silly, the three of us sitting in total silence, playing foolish head-games. I could tell Shirelle was on verge of that psychic thing you get with your best Don’t giggle don’t do I thought at her. I was sure she was the for me, you know what like when someone you not to you’
 noticed was my backpack, on the Desk, surrouNded bY itS coNtEnts, And nExt to it, ShirellE’S bag And its contents, too. That wAs wheN I NOticED SHirelLe, sittiNG oN A Low SoFa. the CoP InDicatEd tHe spot nExt to her wiTh a TiLt of his head aND I Sat. The late-AftErnoon sun slaNtiNg throUgH thE WindoW caUght tHe huge FArt of dUsty air thAt EScaped FRom its cUSHiOns wHen I settled in. ShirELlE Coughed a little And cauGhT My EYE. ShE loOked scared. reAlly sCAred.

The COp PULLed THe vice principAl’s chair out FRom Behind ThE deSK and saT down On IT in Front of us. He Didn’T say anythIng. He wAS young, I SAw, not muCh oldeR thAn uS, and STiLl Had SoME acNE oN onE CheEk. White dUdE. NOt my tYpe, bUT GOOd loOkiNg, exCept tHat he was a cop aNd hE was PLayIng miNd gamEs wiTh Us.

“Are We beinG detaInEd?” Somewhere in my Bag wAs a Black LIveS MAttEr Bust-cARd and wHilE I’d ForgottEn almosT EveRyTHINg Written on it, I remembErED ThAt this waS the fiRSt QuEStion I shOuLd aSk.

“YoU ARe herE at tHE rEquest of Your scHOoL aDministRaTion.” Oh. evEn wHen There WAsn’t A fresh Lockdown, The adMInistration had PLenty of powers TO sEARcH Us, asK us All kinds of nOsy qUEstiOns. AND aFteR A lockDown? FOrGEt IT.

“Are we entitled to lawYeRs?” ShirElle’s Voice was a squeAk, but I was pROUD of her. ShE remEMbERed the second liNe froM the bust-caRD.

“You are nOt.” The Cop lookeD smackablY SMug.

I didn’T saY anYthIng. tHAt Was definitely THE thiRd Line of tHe bUst-card. keeP yoUr dAmnEd Mouth shut.

he didn’t sAy AnYtHiNg eIther. wEll, I wasn’T gOinG tO be The fiRSt one tO speaK. The SiLeNCe wEnt on so LOnG i StarTeD tO worRy tHaT I was GoinG To bUst out lAughing, beCauSE it wAs DaMned silLy, the three of uS sItting therE iN toTal silENCe, playinG foolish head-games. I could TEll ShirEllE was oN the Verge of giGglIng, too, ThaT PsychiC thing You geT wIth YOUr besT GIrL-frIeNds. Don’t gigGLE doN’t do iT I ThouGht at heR. I was sure she was doiNG thE same for me, and You Know WHAt It’s LIkE WheN sOMeoNE Tells you not to laUgh when you’
 noticed was my backpack,on the des k, su rro und ed  byitscontents, andn extto it, Shirelle’s bagand i ts cont e nt s, to o. That wa s whe nInot ic e dShire lle , sitti ng on a lo w s of a. The cop i n di cated thespo t next to he r w ith ati lto f his  he ad an d I sa t . Thelate-afte rn o on sun slantin g th roug h the window caug h tt he huge fart o f dust ya ir t hat  es caped from  i ts cu s hions w h en I set t led in. Shire lle coughed a l ittlean d c a ught m y eye .S helooked scar ed.Really sc ared.The cop pulledthe vi cepri ncip a l’ scha ir out fr omb ehi nd the d es kand s at d o w n on i t i n fr ont o f us. He didn ’tsaya nyt hing.  He w as y ou ng, I  saw,not m uc h older than us , an d still h adso meac ne on one ch eek . W hite du de. Not myty p e ,  b ut good looking, e xc e p tthat hewas ac op  a n d he was  p lay ingm i nd ga mesw it h us.

“ Are we be in g detai ne d?” So me whe rein my bagwas aBlack Li ves M a tter bust-card and while I’d fo r g ot t en a lmo st everythi ng w r itte n on it , I remem bered  t h at this was the firstqu estion  I sh ould ask.

“Y ou are her e a t the re ques t  o f  your school a dmini stration.” Oh. Even  when  there w asn’t a f r e sh lockd own , t headm i n is tration had p l e ntyof  powers  to  search  us , a skusal l kinds o f nosy q ue st io ns . A nd af t er a loc kd own ?For get i t .

“Ar e weenti tl ed tolawyers ? ”S h irel le ’s  voi cewa s a s quea k , b ut I wa s proud o f h e r. S he  r emember ed the second  l ine from t he  bu st-car d . 

“You a re not.” The cop looked smackab lysmug. 

Ididn’t sa y a nythin g.T hat wa s defi nitel ythe t hirdl i ne  of  t he bust-ca r d . K eep y ou r da mned mo uth shut.

He didn ’ t s ay anything e ith er.W e ll , I wa s n’t  g o ing t o be the firstone to spe ak .  T he silence wen ton so l ong I s tarte d  to wor ry that I  was goin gto b u s t o ut laughin g, becau se it was damne d  s illy,  th e thre eofus si ttingt her e intotalsi lence,  play in g foolis h head-games. I could t ell Sh irell e w as on the  ve r geof giggli ng,too, thatpsy chi c thi ngy ou ge t wi t hyou r  best  gir l -friends. Do n’t g ig gle don’t d o i t I  thou ght at her . Iwas sure she wasd oing the sameform e , a ndy ou k no w what it’s li kewh e n  someone  t ells you no t to lau gh whenyou’
 noticed_was my_backpack, on the desk,_surrounded by_its_contents, and_next_to it, Shirelle’s_bag and its_contents, too. That was_when I noticed_Shirelle,_sitting on a low sofa. The cop indicated the spot next to her with_a_tilt of_his_head_and I sat. The late-afternoon_sun slanting through the window_caught the_huge fart of dusty air that escaped from_its_cushions when I_settled in. Shirelle coughed a little and caught my_eye. She looked scared. Really scared.

The_cop pulled the_vice_principal’s_chair out from behind_the desk and sat down on_it in front of us. He_didn’t say anything. He was young, I_saw, not much older than us,_and still had some acne_on one_cheek. White dude. Not my_type, but good_looking, except_that he was_a cop and he was playing_mind games with_us.

“Are we being detained?” Somewhere in_my_bag was a_Black_Lives_Matter bust-card_and while I’d_forgotten_almost everything_written_on it, I remembered that this_was_the first question I should ask.

“You are_here at the request_of_your school administration.” Oh._Even when there wasn’t a_fresh lockdown, the administration had plenty_of powers_to search_us, ask us all kinds of nosy questions. And after a_lockdown? Forget it.

“Are we entitled to_lawyers?” Shirelle’s voice was_a squeak,_but_I was proud_of_her. She_remembered the second line from the bust-card.

“You_are not.”_The cop looked smackably smug.

I didn’t_say anything. That was_definitely_the third line of the bust-card._Keep your damned mouth shut.

He didn’t_say anything either. Well, I_wasn’t_going_to be the first one_to speak. The silence went on_so long I_started to worry that I was going_to_bust out laughing, because it was_damned_silly, the three of us sitting_there_in_total silence, playing foolish head-games._I could tell Shirelle was on_the verge of giggling, too, that psychic thing you_get with your_best girl-friends. Don’t giggle don’t_do_it_I thought at her. I was sure she was doing_the same_for me, and_you know what it’s like when someone tells you not_to laugh when you’