Free No Laughter Here by Rita Williams-Garcia Page B

was stern. “Akilah, we do not solve problems with our fists,” he said. “Violence is never a solution.”
    A framed portrait of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. hung on Mr. Skinner’s wall, just above his head. You couldn’t look at Vice Principal Skinner sitting behind his desk without seeing Dr. King.
    While Mr. Skinner talked about problem solving, I thought, Maybe I wouldn’t have punched Juwan if I hadn’t known what they did to Victoria in that doctor’s office. Maybe I could have outsmarted Juwan, or told Mrs. Anderson on him.
    The fact was, I knew what had happened to Victoriaand I was mad. Sick, angry, and mad. I told Juwan not to mess with her, but he wouldn’t stop. He just kept on and kept on until he hit her. Then I stepped up to defend her. I had to. No one else would.
    Suddenly I felt stronger. Not broken down, like when I sat in Miss Lady’s house. I knew why I hit Juwan and why I wouldn’t apologize.
    â€œSay something, Akilah,” my mother urged. She was still humiliated and embarrassed that Miss Spenser had outmothered her.
    â€œCan I return to my class now?”
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    Everything looked the same when I entered the classroom and took my place next to Victoria. Juwan snickered at me, but I couldn’t care less. Only Ms. Saunders’s opinion bothered me. I was glad to be back in class, but I could barely face her. If I did, I would have seen the betrayal and disappointment in her eyes, even behind her glasses.
    Ms. Saunders and I were supposed to be starting over on a clean slate, but I had gone back on our deal. I was not the Akilah she knew I could be. I was a bad kid who got suspended for fighting.
    Still, I was determined to keep my vow to Victoria. I wouldn’t try to explain myself. Not even to get on Ms. Saunders’s good side.
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    Victoria and I found our usual spot during recess. Jerilyn came over as soon as we sat down.
    â€œI hope you know I can’t play with you anymore,” she said to me. “Because you’ve been suspended.”
    Jerilyn had pink teddy bears in her scrunchie. She waited for a response, but I wouldn’t give her one. She left us alone.
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    â€œDid you get my e-mail?”
    Victoria nodded.
    â€œI didn’t tell them,” I said.
    â€œI know.”
    â€œHow are you sure?” I asked.
    Victoria looked me over from head to toe, then said, “I thought you might tell if your mother beat you. But I see you have no welts or bruises on your legs.”
    â€œMy mother’d never beat me. And even if she did, I still wouldn’t tell.”
    â€œI’m glad,” she said. “I thought you might start to tell a little, then tell everything.”
    â€œI know,” I said. “But I didn’t. I kept my lips zipped. And I won’t apologize, either.”
    â€œI know.”
    We had four more minutes before recess ended. Victoria didn’t say another word while we sat out by the hopscotches, but she didn’t have to. I replayed her saying “I’m glad” and “I know” in my head like songs. Besides those one-word answers she gave in class, I was the only person she really talked to. I was honored.

Ayodele
    I was still on punishment, although Dad had long ago caved in. I felt sorry for him. He had no one to play with, so he raised our basketball hoop up to NBA height because it was about time I learned to shoot a proper jumper.
    Nothing had changed as far as Mom was concerned. She was determined to teach me a lesson. I knew she felt betrayed after all of our backyard tea talks. When we were down in Silver Spring, she bragged to her sisters about how we talked openly about everything. In reply Auntie Cass said, “Mark my words, Baby. That will soon change.”
    In spite of being on punishment, I didn’t miss TV like I thought I would. Besides, everyone talked about what was on TV in the lunchroom the next day. It was doing stuff on