The next afternoon, Mae told Lena that she wasn’t allowed to hang out with her anymore.
“Why?” Lena asked. The two of them were outside, near the basketball court. A cold wind was blowing, scattering a few strands of Lena’s brown hair across her face.
“My mom says that you’re a bad influence,” Mae said.
“Why?”
“Because you taught me those words.”
“…I gave you the strength to call your grandma a fucking bitch, and your mom thinks that’s a bad thing?”
Mae shrugged. “I’m just telling you what she told me,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Mae walked away then. Lena stared after her, looking confused and upset, but she didn’t follow her.
The next day, during silent reading time, the boy sitting next to Mae dropped a small package onto her desk. It was small, but hefty, and wrapped in notebook paper. There was a small note attached to it. It read:
You’re going to need this. Trust me. —Lena
Mae opened the package. Inside was a small stone, perfectly round and bright green. She held the stone in her hand, felt its weight. Glancing over at Lena, she saw that she wasn’t paying any attention to her. She was too wrapped up in her own book.