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supportive, and for that, I’m sorry,” Mr. Adelizi says, signaling me to reclaim my seat. I’m in no rush to get back to government class, so I’ll gladly stay until the bell rings. After that, I’m out whether he’s in midsentence or not.
    â€œIt’s cool,” I say. I was over that shit the day it happened. When I first came to South Bay High, with its rich, white population, I knew where I was and didn’t expect anything more or less from the administration up here. And unfortunately, Mr. Adelizi was partially correct to jump to the conclusion that I might not want to attend college. Out of my hood crew, I’m the only one who wants to attend college. Nigel’s automatically going, but sports are his motivation, not academics or upward social mobility, because his parents are already doing well financially. Rah will probably go, but if he doesn’t get in it won’t be a big deal to him. And as for my girls, they never even considered going to school any longer than they have to.
    â€œNo, it’s not. I made an assumption about you based on your economic background and that wasn’t fair.” Mr. Adelizi looks truly repentant for his racist ways, but why now? There has to be a catch.
    â€œTo be honest, I’m used to it. It shocks me more when people don’t size me up when they find out I’m from Compton.” We stare at each other for a moment, unsure of who should speak next. I’m sure he wasn’t expecting such a blunt response, but again, he doesn’t know me at all.
    â€œExcuse me, Mr. Adelizi. There’s a call for you on line two,” one of the school secretaries says, stepping into the open door and breaking the awkward silence.
    â€œCan you please tell them I’ll be just a moment?” Mr. Adelizi looks at my transcripts on the computer screen in front of him and back at me. “Jayd, I’m impressed with your tenacity. You’ve kept up with your Advanced Placement courses and you continue to stay active in drama, but that’s not going to be enough to make you stand out as a well-rounded candidate for the top colleges, which I hope you’re still considering applying to come fall.” Mr. Adelizi looks down at the blinking phone on his crowded desk and back up at me, hoping his words have sunk in.
    â€œTrust me, it’s all I think about.” The sooner I get out of high school, the better. And from what I heard KJ’s older friends say about college life when KJ and I were together, and from what Mr. Adewale’s shared about his experiences, University of West Los Angeles is the place to be, and that’s where I plan on going. I’ve never been to the campus, but I’m sure it’s all that and then some.
    â€œThat’s good to hear. There are many colleges that are looking to broaden the diversity of their student population. That said, they are looking for top candidates from the local distinguished high schools first. Now, I have placed your name on that list for South Bay and hope you’re open to the program.”
    â€œIt sounds like a good opportunity, Mr. Adelizi. Thank you,” I say, surprised that I was called into his office for good news rather than the usual bull.
    â€œBut there’s a catch,” Mr. Adelizi says, cocking his pale chin forward with a stern look of caution. I knew there was more to it. He almost got me off my game, but not completely. “Your records have a few minor negatives that need to be balanced out. I suggest you either join a sport or cheer. Either will show you can be a team player and that’s an important character trait. That little temper of yours can be played down if your activities are more varied.”
    â€œI’ll think about joining another club or something, but truthfully, cheerleading isn’t my cup of tea.” The bell signaling the end of third period rings and that’s my cue to roll out. I