I marched up to the driver’s side window and rapped my knuckles against the glass.
Slowly, the window lowered.
« You have got to be kidding me! »
« Hey, Zoe, what are you doing— »
« Following you. » I braced my hands against the door. « What are you doing? Emily is supposed to be in school, and why on earth are you driving this? Where’s your Ford? »
« Well, I took it to the panel beater, but they didn’t— »
I sharply raised my hand. « Emily first. Why are you helping her cut school? You’re her father, Mark, you should know better. »
Emily leaned forward. « I asked him to, Mom. It wasn’t his idea. »
« But he still went along with it. What are you two up to? »
« Why are you helping her cut school? »
Mark raised his hands in a placating gesture. « She asked me to pick her up because she didn’t want to go— »
« That’s not how life works, Mark! You don’t just opt out of the ninth grade because you don’t feel like it. »
« It’s not like that. »
Emily clenched her jaw. « You don’t get it. I knew you wouldn’t. »
« Then make me get it, Emily. Talk to me. »
Mark looked at Emily. « You said we were going to be honest, Emmy. She’s your mom. She deserves to know. »
Mark raised his hands in a placating gesture.
Emily lowered her head.
« The other girls… They hate me. It’s not just one person. It’s all of them. They move their bags when I try to sit down. They whisper ‘try-hard’ every time I answer a question in English. In the gym, they act like I’m invisible. They won’t even pass me the ball. »
