Tyler smiled. Going somewhere home. You always leave when people start talking to you. Maybe I don't enjoy the conversation. Of Tyler's friends laughed.
Maya noticed three phones rise among the people leaving the reception. The performance had begun. Tyler took one step sideways, blocked the path. You know what your problem is? Maya shifted the books in her arms.
No. You think being quiet makes you better than everybody. Ma looked at him. No, it just makes me quiet. That got another laugh. This one from someone behind her.
Tyler's smile thinned. He glanced toward the maintenance wall. Maya followed the movement with her eyes. The hose was already uncoiled. That confirmed everything.
She felt her pulse quicken. Not fear exactly. Readiness. The same charge that came before competition. Maya set her feet without thinking.
Loose, balanced. Her hands remained full of books. Tyler saw the movement and misread it. There it is. What?
That look, Maya said nothing. He reached down, picked up the hose. Walter stopped lifting his coffee. The courtyard went quieter. Not silent yet, but close.
They wrapped one hand around the brass nozzle. Maya's heart beat once, hard. Then Tyler said, loud enough for everyone around them to hear. Maybe this will wash the charity off you. He opened the nozzle.
The water hit cold hard. Brown maintenance runoff exploded across Maya's shoulder and face. Her books dropped. One slapped flat against the wet stone. The other spun and slid beneath a parked SUV.
Dirty water ran down Maya's hair, soaked the front of her sweatshirt, filled one shoe, and darkened the old canvas bag at her side. For one second, all she could hear was the hose. Then the crowd disappeared into silence. Nearly 30 adults stood around the courtyard. Students, staff, donor guests, two administrators, phones raised, eyes wide.
Nobody stepped forward. That hurt more than the water. Maya wiped her eyes with one hand. She breathed in, hold out. Tyler watched her, waiting.
He needed the explosion. Needed the story afterward. Maya looked down at the ruined textbook, then back at him. "Turn it off," Tyler laughed. "That all you've got?
Turn it off?" He lowered the hose. Not because she asked, because he wanted to move closer. Water continued pouring onto the stone near his shoes. Maya bent and picked up the first book.
Pages sagged. Ink bled at the edge. Someone behind her whispered, "Oh my god, nobody did anything." Maya picked up the second book. Tyler stepped in front of her again.