“I ain’t going back to school next year,” she informed me as we reached the corner of her street and turned onto Lawson Street. “Daddy say I ain’t got to, but Mama want me to go. I’m sick of school.” “What will you do if you quit?” I asked. “I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders.“Get a job or something, I guess.” “I don’t want you to quit, Mattie. I want us to graduate together.” She laughed. “What make you think you gon’ graduate? I thought you said yo’ mama was gon’ make you quit.” “I’ll find a way to go,” I said, and was surprised by the bitterness in my voice, and the anger I suddenly
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