When Gary walked up to me
the next day
in his quirky way,
I didn’t return his oddball smile.
“You did good,” he said.
“Lindsey got sent to West Campus.
I’m sure it was your meddling that paid off.”
I was too busy pondering his words
to get offended at the sarcasm.
West Campus is where the broken kids go.
Drug addicts. Rapists.
Teen moms who haven’t dropped out.
Rumor has it that it is ten times worse
than at my school.
Would Lindsey really be better off there?