Lesson by Her [Book 1]

Chapter 4

"I can't believe you've got detention." Kayla Black sighed in disapproval over breakfast.

"It's not my fault," Dusty protested.

"No, of course not, you're just an innocent victim," Kayla replied, annoyance dripping from her words.

"I am." Dusty held her spoonful of cereal poised before her mouth, unable to take a bite while she felt she was being unfairly accused.

"Dusty, you get detentions for bad behavior. I just don't understand it, any of it. You used to be so well behaved. Maybe you're angry, I'm angry too, but you can't let it rule your life." Kayla's tone was calmer now.

"Leave it, Mom," Dusty warned.

"I'm just trying to talk to you." Kayla smiled, but her eyes flicked briefly past Dusty to the clock on the wall.

"You're never around to talk, Mom," Dusty snapped, no longer hungry, returning the cereal on her spoon to the bowl on the table.

"I've got to work," Kayla replied. "I'm trying to support this family on my own. It's not easy you know."

"None of this is easy," Dusty yelled, grabbing her backpack, desperate to leave the confines of the trailer. It felt like all their emotions were constantly bouncing off the walls in the small space, and they were powerless to do anything other than collide with them.

"Dusty—" Kayla called after her daughter, but it was too late. The trailer door slammed shut as Dusty headed out towards school.

Despite the morning sunshine, Dusty shivered. She quickened her pace to try to bring some warmth to her skin, but it did no good. It pained her that perhaps her mom was right, that maybe a big part of Dusty's current issues was that she was angry.
But she didn't want to believe that, she didn't want to be one of those kids who was full of unresolved anger and went around blaming the rest of the world for their troubles.

Dusty arrived early at school, so the parking lot was relatively empty. There were still remnants of the previous night's victory floating around: a discarded banner and some contraband beer cans.

The banner floated in the morning breeze and looked strangely beautiful. Like how a plastic bag caught in a draft could appear graceful and elegant even though it was just trash.

Walking past the banner, Dusty kicked at it, putting an abrupt stop to its breezy ballet. She was in a foul mood. With each step towards school, her mood deepened into darkness. It was not going to be a good day.

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