Jacques felt his face go hot as she flashed him a silent “hi.” When Kiki fumbled for a pen, Jacques reached into his backpack and pulled out three Sharpies for her to choose from. One of her books slipped off the desk, and Jacques dove to the floor to catch it. When he picked himself off the floor, he noticed Lucy staring at him. At lunch, she seemed mad. “You’re in my way.” She bumped her backpack into Jacques’s shoulder. “Hey!” He rubbed his arm. “I need to be in one piece for soccer tryouts today.” “I don’t think you’ve got much of a chance, anyhow,” Lucy replied. “I guess that was kind of mean,” she added, slamming him in the other shoulder. “You think?” Sammy smirked. “Did you see the Somali kids playing at recess yesterday?” O’Shea seemed to be missing the drama. “That Mohamed dude could go professional! He’s amazing.” “Thanks a lot.” Jacques gathered his stuff to go. “Just sayin’ . . .” O’Shea shrugged. “C’mon.”
