Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
But…she’s not my wife anymore. So he can look at her any way he wants. None of my business. I slowly unclench the fists resting on my knees and unclamp my teeth. Habit. Just habit to feel like pulling his balls through his nose for the way he looks at Yasmen.
“Kids okay?” I ask, training my gaze above her neck since everything below is so dangerous.
“Yeah, they’re eating dinner with Clint and then will go over to the house for homework. Clint’ll keep an eye on them.” She places her oversized bag on the floor and crosses her legs. “Things okay at Grits?”
“Yeah. Anthony has everything under control.”
“He was a great hire.”
“You were the one who wanted to bring him on.”
She smiles, but shakes her head. “I was just happy you asked me to meet him before you hired him.”
“I’ve never hired anyone without you signing off,” I remind her with a frown.
“True, but we both know I wasn’t around, so I appreciated being involved.”
“Well, we made a good call with him.” I check my watch and grimace. “I told him I’d be in as soon as this is over, so I hope it doesn’t last long.”
“What do you think this is about? Ms. Halstead’s email was kind of vague: ‘I would like to discuss a few things regarding Kassim’s progress.’ What does that even mean?”
“It can’t be anything bad. It’s Kassim.”
“It’s not Kassim’s behavior I’m worried about. He’s the only Black boy in his class. They better not trip.”
“I’m as vigilant as you, but don’t go into this being too sensitive. Remember how you maybe overreacted to that comment Mrs. Thatcher made about Deja last year?”
“The woman called her articulate. That’s the most microaggressive bullshit. Like, oh!” Yasmen’s face transmogrifies into an uncannily accurate imitation of Mrs. Thatcher’s pinched expression. “I’m so surprised this little Black girl can string together two whole sentences using the Queen’s English. She’s so articulate.”
Apparently Yasmen’s pink sweater is covering a Kevlar vest and she is in fully armed Black Mama mode.
“Yas, we’re gonna play it cool, right? Not jump to any conclusions?”
“Oh, was I the one who went HAM when they tried to put Kassim in the yellow reading group?”
“First of all, that was second grade, and it was ridiculous. He was outreading all those other kids and…”
Her smug smile snatches the rest of my sentence, and I have to grin back.
“All right, you made your point, Sistah Souljah.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Brother Malcolm.”
We stare at each other for a second before breaking the silence with a chuckle. With so much fighting leading up to our divorce and so much tension following, I forgot we make a great team.
Ms. Halstead, a woman with pale, freckled skin, curly brown hair, and hazel eyes, enters and speed walks across the room. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No problem,” Yasmen mutters with a smile that curves too perfectly while giving me her She better act right look from the corner of her eye.
Ms. Halstead turns a desk around until it’s facing us. She pushes up the sleeves of her cream-colored cardigan and leans her elbows on the desk.
“It’s good to see you both again,” she says, her smile friendly and warm. “I mentioned at orientation that I’d heard great things about Kassim, and he has more than lived up to all the compliments previous teachers paid him.”
“That’s awesome,” Yasmen says, her shoulders lowering almost imperceptibly and her smile turning more natural.
“Terrific,” I say dryly. “So you wanted us to come just to celebrate how incredible Kassim is doing?”
Yasmen subtly kicks me in the ankle, which I ignore.
“Or was there a concern?” I continue.
Ms. Halstead shifts in the desk, crossing her ankles and clearing her throat. “Kassim is one of our brightest students. So bright, in fact, I think the work may not challenge him sufficiently. If I’m being honest, he could grow bored.”
There is so obviously a “but” coming that Yasmen and I share a quick, knowing glance, and I brace myself for it.
“And,” Ms. Halstead goes on, choosing a different conjunction, “I would like to discuss acceleration options.”
“Acceleration?” Yasmen asks. “You mean like skipping a grade?”
“That’s one route,” Ms. Halstead answers and nods. “But he would be in need of some emotional and social development before we would consider skipping a grade.”
“Clarify,” I say, my tone sharper than I intended. “Please.”
“Sixth grade is very formative for kids. The leap from sixth to seventh is huge socially and developmentally. To go from fifth to seventh…well, I have no doubt Kassim would excel academically, but we’d have to do some work this year to prepare him.”
“What kind of work?” Yasmen asks. “What’s prompting this? Because I feel like there’s something specific you want to discuss. We like straight talk, Ms. Halstead. We’ve heard all the good stuff. What are your concerns, because I can hear that you have them?”