She slides into her seat
in Mrs. Hall’s sixth grade,
unable to talk to her best friend Donnie,
who sits behind her,
because now
he might notice
she is wearing her first bra.
She is sure he knows
that the bra’s formed cones
wrinkle back in
on nothing.
The principal’s voice
over the PA is broken:
The President has been shot.
The boy who can’t be
her best friend anymore
taps her on the shoulder.
“Are you sad?"
”Yes,” she answers,
staring straight ahead.
“I will cry for him
as soon as I get home.”
