Free Coin Heist by Elisa Ludwig Page B

I need to talk to you. Do you have a moment?”
    â€œSure,” I said, a little worried but glad to have a reason to get out of my seat. Now that the announcements were over, the rest of homeroom was usually just sitting around alone listening to everyone else gossip. Talking about their weekends and how much beer they drank and who hooked up with who. Stuff I didn’t need to know, because I didn’t know any of these people.
    Mrs. Diamond was pushing sixty and had dyed blond hair cut real short. I slouched up to her desk and waited to see what kind of trouble I was in, but then she looked up at me with a smile that made me even more nervous. The last time an old lady smiled at me like that was when my grandmom took me shopping at the end of the summer and told the salesperson at Kohls that I needed nice school clothes.
    â€œBenny, I just had a meeting with the bursar’s office, and I’m afraid I have some . . . uhh . . . unfortunate news. They said that with everything that’s happened, they’re having trouble making ends meet for the financial aid program next year.”
    â€œBut I’m—I’m on scholarship,” I blurted out. It was meant to be a secret. The teachers knew, but supposedly no one else did.
    Now her smile faded some. “The future of the D.M. Jamison athletic scholarship is unclear, actually. We lost that money in the, um, situation.”
    Situation? Sounded more like a big hustle to me. “What about the other scholarship I got, from the state?”
    â€œThat was only five percent of your funding. You can keep it, but it’s not going to be enough.”
    Goddamn. Was she for real? They were getting rid of my money now? They could do that to me, basically the only poor kid here? “Is there another scholarship I can apply for?”
    â€œYou should talk about it with the bursar. It’s too late for next year. The state deadlines were in January.”
    â€œWhat the hell?” I didn’t mean to curse in front of a teacher, but I was freaking out. How would I break the news to my grandmom, after everything we did to get me here? She’d start crying, talking about my poor mom, her terrible story. How they came over from Mexico when she was a teenager, how she started working as a mushroom picker to help make ends meet. How she met my dad around the way, and they had me when she was too young. How she got an injury on the job and started popping pills because they wouldn’t send her to the doctor. How she OD’ed three months later. How my dad was deported back to the D.R., leaving me with my grandparents. I was four years old then, and I’d lived with them ever since. Corazoncito, my job is to protect you , my grandmom would say. And your job is to make us proud.
    No, this would crush her into pieces. I had to graduate from HF, be the first in my family to go to college, actually have a career instead of a job . They were depending on me. “What am I supposed to do? I’ve been busting my butt trying to keep up my GPA. I had a great season.”
    â€œI honestly don’t know, Benny. I’m trying to get more information. You’re not the only one in this situation.”
    â€œI’m the only kid bussed in from North Philly.”
    â€œThere are plenty of others, from other neighborhoods, kids who needed a little help to be here. They’ll be in the same boat.”
    I knew who she was talking about. Secret or no, all you had to do was look closely. A Chinese kid whose parents owned a restaurant in East Falls. A girl with a single mom from Conshohocken. Another guy whose parents lost some money in the stock market. He was from the mean streets of Ardmore. Ardmore. They had a Porsche dealership in that town. All of those people were rich compared to me, and they all lived in clean, safe neighborhoods. Besides, even if they weren’t, pretty much, we were all screwed.
    â€œI’ll let you know