Bad Girls, Bad Girls, Whatcha Gonna Do? by Cynthia Voigt Page A

for Casey to report anything, or for rumors to be sifted and sorted to get at their kernels of truth. On Monday, Hadrian was back in school. His left arm was in a sling—“Luckily, I’m right-handed,” he said—because his collarbone had been broken. “They were shoving me. It’s what they do. It’s one of the things they do,” he reported, in case they wanted the whole picture.
    Cassie demanded, “What are you going to do about it?”
    â€œI just have to keep it immobilized. I don’t have to return to gym until after New Year’s,” Hadrian told them happily.
    Cassie insisted, “Aren’t you furious?”
    â€œMore likely frightened,” said Felix. “That’s what I’d be.”
    Cassie ignored him, asking, “Don’t you want to go after them?”
    â€œHim and what army?” Tim asked.
    â€œCan you sue?” Margalo wondered. She suggested, “Aggravated personal assault.”
    Hadrian shook his head. “Besides, they’re out of school for three weeks. I can relax.”
    At lunch that day many people stopped off to tell Hadrian “Hey.”
    What was that supposed to mean? That now they weregoing to be his friends? That they felt sorry for him? That it would never happen again?
    Ronnie came by, said, “Hey, Hadrian,” and slipped away. Derrie and Annaliese also lingered long enough to say “Hey,” and “Hey.” Jason said “Hey,” and added, with feeling, “ man ,” while Shawn just put a hand on Hadrian’s thin shoulder as he walked by behind him.
    The hand made Hadrian jump up from his chair, but once he saw who it was, he sat down again.
    Tan said “Hey” to Hadrian, then turned on Mikey and Margalo. “What are you going to do about this?”
    â€œWhat can we do?” Mikey demanded right back, while Hadrian pointed out pacifically, “They’re suspended for three weeks.”
    â€œThat doesn’t change anything. What about after that?” Tan asked. But she answered herself. “Never mind. I know. It’s not anybody’s fault.”
    â€œOf course it’s not my fault,” Mikey agreed.
    â€œIt’s not Hadrian’s fault either,” Margalo said.
    â€œThat’s what I mean,” said Tan.
    â€œIt’s just the way things are,” said Cassie. “It’s high school.”
    â€œAnd that ,” declared Tanisha Harris, “is why they’re this way. Nobody ever does anything and it’s never anybody’s fault. The people that can do something don’t want to, and the rest of us don’t dare. Or don’t care.”
    â€œWe care ,” argued Tim.
    â€œRight,” said Cassie, cramming as much sarcasm into oneword as most people needed a sentence to use up. “I can tell. So can Hadrian. Can’t you, Hadrian?”
    Hadrian shrank down into his seat, suddenly deaf from birth, and Tan walked away, her skirt swishing a little.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with her?” asked Casey, looking up from her reading, which that day was Pride and Prejudice.
    â€œYou have to ask?” Cassie answered.
    â€œHas anyone ever put a restraining order on your mouth?” asked Felix unexpectedly.
    Margalo looked at Mikey to comment silently on this leaping-to-Casey’s-defense: Did Felix want to be Casey’s boyfriend?
    â€œBesides me, I mean,” said Felix.
    â€œHa, ha,” Cassie countered.
    A couple more people swooped by, hesitating only long enough to say, “Hey, Hadrian,” and “Hey,” as they went on to their destination tables. Ira Pliotes added a little more. “Good to see you back,” he said, and waited until Hadrian had looked up and answered, “Thanks.”
    It was almost a pleasure to have Louis Caselli come strutting up to their table and not say “Hey.” Louis was so pleased with himself that he was dancing from one