Chloe said her name.
“Madeline.”
She ignored her.
Jordan looked toward the volunteer table.
“I’m done talking.”
She started to step away.
Madeline moved beside her.
“Of course.”
Jordan stopped.
“What?”
“Run to Hart.”
“I’m going to rinse my eyes.”
“Right.”
Jordan turned.
Madeline stepped in front of her.
The rope barrier and powder table limited the space on either side.
“Move.”
“You act like I assaulted you.”
“I said move.”
“There’s the attitude.”
Jordan’s expression changed.
Months collapsed into one phrase.
Hair.
Tone.
Community voice.
Marketing.
Merit.
Fake calm.
The hidden version Madeline believed existed underneath.
Jordan looked toward the phones.
Then at Madeline.
“You wanted this.”
Madeline laughed.
“Wanted what?”
“A reaction.”
The smile faded slightly.
Jordan continued.
“You’ve been waiting all year for me to get angry enough that you could tell everybody you were right.”
Madeline stepped closer.
“You think everything is about race.”
“I didn’t say race.”
Silence.
Several students reacted quietly.
Madeline realized what she had done.
Jordan saw it too.
“I didn’t say race.”
Madeline’s jaw tightened.
“You didn’t have to.”
Jordan shook her head.
“That is the problem.”
Madeline leaned closer until their faces were less than a foot apart.
Purple powder covered Jordan almost completely.
Some had transferred onto Madeline’s jacket from the air.
“You think you’re better than everybody because teachers love you.”
“No.”
“Because you won the service award.”
“No.”
“Because you get to tell everyone what’s safe and offensive and allowed.”
Jordan raised one open hand.
“I’m trying to wash my eyes.”
Madeline smiled.
“Then go.”
Jordan moved left.
Madeline moved too.
The path remained blocked.
Chloe stepped forward.
“Madeline, stop.”
Madeline turned briefly.
“Stay out of it.”
Jordan tried the other side.
Madeline followed.
“You’re not leaving after accusing me of being racist in front of everybody.”
Jordan’s voice stayed low.
“I still didn’t call you racist.”
“You know exactly what you’re doing.”