8


"...and then I filmed her, and there was no soap in her cell, and she couldn't wash one hand without getting the other full of ***, so she just had to run her hands under the water and that was that!" Lester finished. The whole lunch table of twenty people roared with laughter.


Isis felt that there was something wrong with this. And it wasn't that she was trying to eat without hearing of grossness. That she didn't mind. But it still seemed wrong somehow.


"Hey Lester... are you Lester? I wanna go see them. Can I come with you next time? Are you going back?" It was a tall malatto kid. Lester recognized him from the Hope House basketball team (which had always lost to its competitors, because the staff picked the players based on their behavior rather than the students picking the players based on their skill).


Lester felt somehow off, but he nodded and beamed and just  couldn't stop himself. "Yeah, sure... what's your name again?"


"Byron. Byron Smythe." He held out his hand.


Isis got up to go to the bathroom to get some soap and toilet paper and towels for the teachers. Even for Tina Smirnoff, who had denied her her Ritalin saying she could do without it, then shocked her for not paying attention.


"Isis, what are you doin?"


It was Jeremy, standing in the bathroom door.


"What's it look like I'm doing?" Isis said.


At least now Jeremy knew that she must have a valid reason for doing what she was doing. At least he was asking her, rather than saying "Noooo!"sternly and shocking her.


"Does this have something to do with what Lester said?" Jeremy said casually rather than confrontationally.


"Are you coming?" Isis blurted out.


"Okay," Jeremy said. Again, totally nonchalant and not grudging at all.