Margaret Walks Across the High School Stage on a Warm June Morning
“If you set foot on campus, the security staff has explicit instructions to contact the Oak Creek police department,” Vance said. “A squad car will be waiting. I do not think you want to be escorted away in handcuffs on a Saturday morning.”
“You would have me arrested,” I said.
“The decision to violate a legal directive will be entirely yours,” Vance said.
I walked down the sidewalk bordering the school grounds at ten o’clock, stopping where the concrete met the black iron fence of the student parking lot. The sun was warming the metal, making it hot to the touch. From the gymnasium across the lawn, I could hear the distant, rhythmic squeak of sneakers on polished wood floors as the maintenance crew prepared the court for the ceremony.
Kayla saw me from the courtyard. She jogged toward the fence, her backpack bouncing against her shoulders, her movements filled with her usual rapid, passionate energy. She stopped on the other side of the iron bars, her face flushed as she adjusted her glasses.
