“You do.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Zoe looked toward the phones.
“You wanted this recorded.”
Mallory laughed too loudly.
“Everything is a conspiracy with you.”
“I didn’t say conspiracy.”
“You keep accusing me.”
“I just watched you push the tower.”
“Then cry about it.”
The crowd reacted.
One student said:
“Yo, Mallory.”
Warning.
She ignored it.
Zoe took a breath.
“Move.”
Mallory stepped directly in front of her.
“Make me.”
There.
The line teenagers said when they wanted conflict while preserving the fantasy that the other person caused it.
Zoe moved right.
Mallory moved right.
Zoe stopped.
“Get out of my way.”
“You always ordering people around.”
“I am trying to walk away.”
“There’s the attitude.”
That phrase again.
Zoe’s expression changed.
Mallory saw.
Pressed harder.
“Come on.”
“What?”
“Show everybody.”
“Show them what?”
“The real you.”
Zoe almost laughed.
“Playing Jenga wasn’t real enough?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
Zoe lowered the block.
“Say it.”
Mallory leaned closer.
“You act calm because teachers are watching.”
Zoe stared.
“And?”
“You’re not.”
“Not what?”
“Calm.”
Zoe’s anger became colder.
“So you knocked wood onto me because you wanted me angry?”
Mallory shook her head.
“You think everything is about race.”
Zoe had not mentioned race.
Several people realized it at the same moment.
The circle went quieter.
Zoe looked directly at Mallory.
“I didn’t say anything about race.”
Mallory’s face changed.
Tiny.
Enough.
Zoe continued.
“You did.”
“Shut up.”
There it was.
The first crack.
Zoe stepped away.
Mallory grabbed the front of her shirt near one shoulder.
Phones shifted.
“Don’t walk away from me.”
Zoe looked down at the hand.
“Let go.”
Mallory tightened.
Naomi shouted:
“Mallory!”
Zoe pulled backward.
Mallory released.
For half a second, distance existed.
Zoe turned.
Mallory reached again.
Both hands this time.
Upper shoulders.
Zoe raised her arms.
Blocked.
“Stop touching me.”
Mallory shoved forward.
Zoe stepped back through scattered wooden blocks.
The uneven ground made every movement dangerous.
She kept the Jenga piece in one hand.
Then threw it aside.
Not at Mallory.
Away.
Both hands empty.
Visible.
“Stop.”
Mallory swung.
The first strike passed wide near Zoe’s shoulder.
Zoe ducked.
Students shouted.
Mallory came forward.
Another swing.
Zoe blocked with her forearm.
Pushed the arm away.
“Back up.”
Mallory did not.
She grabbed at Zoe’s upper arm.
Zoe twisted free.
A wooden block rolled beneath Mallory’s foot.
She recovered.