Read Raven for Free Online Page B

flicking her eyelashes at Uncle Reuben.
    What else could I do but agree? I felt like some slave walking behind her, my arms laden with my books and my lunch bag as well as hers. She paraded down the sidewalk and onto the bus, holding her chart up high enough for everyone to see.
    "Someone make a place for Raven. She's carrying my things for me," she announced.
It wasn't necessary. I always sat with Clarence Dunsen. She just wanted everyone to know that she could get me to do things for her.
When we arrived at school, she surprised me by taking only the books and notebooks she needed for her morning classes.
"Bring everything else to lunch. I've got to carry this around until social studies," she said in front of her friends, who stood there with thin smiles and laughing eyes.
"Why don't you just bring it to social studies now?" I asked her.
"And take a chance that someone might sabotage it? Never. Remember what happened to Robert Longo's ant farm in science class?" she asked her entourage. They all nodded. "Someone poured water in it and drowned all the ants."
"I wonder who would do that," I said dryly.
"Thanks, Raven," she said, taking her morning class books and shooting off before I could refuse.
I lugged her things along with mine to my first class.
"How come you have two lunches today?" Terri Johnson asked me in English class. I told her, and she raised her eyebrows sharply, the skin in her forehead forming small furrows.
"She's just trying to show off," I said, but Terri still looked suspicious.
"She could ask one of her slaves to do that. Those girls would be glad to do her favors. I've seen it. I don't know what she's up to, but as my granny tells me all the time, a snake can't be a rabbit," she added.
I laughed, but later I began to think a little more about it, too. Just before class ended, I looked at what I thought was Jennifer's lunch bag, only I noticed my name was on it. Why would that be? I, wondered.
I opened what was supposed to be Jennifer's lunch bag. We usually had the same thing. I knew because I had helped Aunt Clara make the lunches. There was an extra small pack wrapped in wax paper in hers. I glanced up to be sure Mrs. Broadhurst wasn't looking my way, and then I unwrapped the wax paper.
A cold but electric chill shot through my heart. I had seen this before. I knew what a joint was. I had seen and smelled pot around my old apartment. Lila Thomas had tried to get me to smoke it with her once.
I looked over at Terri. She saw immediately from the expression on my face that something was wrong. I lowered my hand to the side, looked at the teacher, and then opened my hand. When I looked back at Terri, she was nodding with satisfaction. Five minutes before class ended, the real reason Jennifer wanted me to carry her lunch was clearly revealed.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Broadhurst," the student office volunteer said from our doorway. "Mr. Moore would like to see Raven Flores immediately. He wants her to bring all her things, too," she added.
"Raven," she said, nodding at me. I glanced at Terri, whose eyes were filled with worry. I smiled and winked at her to reassure her.
I scooped everything into my arms, glanced once more at Terri, and followed the student volunteer. As I left the classroom, I stuffed the wax paper and joint into my bra. I had seen girls do this at my old school. No one would look there. It was a very serious thing to strip-search a student. Male teachers were terrified of even suggesting such a thing, and the girls knew it.
Mr. Moore was standing at his desk when I entered his office. He gazed at me and then nodded at the student volunteer.
"Close the door," he told her. She glanced at me with interest, stepped out, and did so. "Sit," he ordered, nodding at the chair. I sat quickly, and he stood over me.
"It has always been my policy to handle my problems in house, if possible," he began, gazing at me quickly to catch my reaction. "That doesn't mean I don't tell parents what goes on. I have an