Homeroom on the last day of school was something of a blessing for me. Since Mrs. Richardson had to take time off from work to recover from her hysterectomy, we had to deal with a new Homeroom teacher for the remainder of the school year. Her name was Ximena Biggs, and she had bands of discolored skin just like me, which would mean that she also had vitiligo. However, whereas my bands of discolored skin looked like stripes you would find on a tiger, Ximena's discolored skin bands appeared to take on a marbled appearance with patterns that seemed to verge on the rosette kind. I noticed that her skin also seemed to be a dull copper brown, with the bands of skin taking on tawny and cream colors. Her hair was ash-blonde, which was a little unusual for me since I only ever saw that kind of hair among white people, but I didn't really mind. Also, she said herself that she was a member of the Alabama–Quassarte Tribal Town, which according to her was located in Okmulgee County. Though I never thought of Ximena as being a Native American name, let alone an Alabama or a Quassarte name, but who cared?

"Alright, class," Ximena began. "Since today is the last day of school, I thought we should try to do something fun during our last meeting."

"Like what, Ms. Biggs?" Delta asked.

"Well, how about we go outside and do some go-kart racing? You remember when you guys were asking to race some go karts?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, a while back, I got in contact with someone at Northeastern Oklahoma A&M College in Miami who claimed they could craft some go karts for you guys, and they delivered them right here just last week."

"Cool," Benton chimed in. "When can we race them?"

Ximena grinned at him. "During recess, but first we have to get part of the school day. I hope you still have your yearbooks you purchased two weeks ago. You'll be going around getting other kids to sign them. Have fun!"

I quickly got out of my seat and started going around to get other kids in Homeroom to sign my yearbook. Naturally, Frankie was the first one to sign my yearbook, even going so far as add in little hearts and doodles whenever she could. Next up were Benton and Delta, with the former advising me to go look for some rocks during the summer (because of course he did). Then other kids like Debbie, Rachel, Joey, Peter, and Mikey came up and signed some things into my yearbook, mostly shit like "Have a nice summer!" or "You're so cool!" Soon, before I knew it, Homeroom was over and we all moved on to the next class.

"So how was your last day of school?" Namęšéme asked me while we were heading for home.

"It was... awesome!" I replied with excitement. "We got to race go-karts at recess!"

"Really now? Where did the school get those?"

"Ms. Biggs said she got in contact with someone at Northeastern Oklahoma A&M College who claimed they could craft some go karts."

"Ah, I see. Who won the go-kart race?"

"Frankie did. Benton and Delta came in second and third place."

"Really interesting. I'm sure you had fun the rest of the day."

"I sure did, Namęšéme. I went around and had lots of people sign my yearbook. Obviously, I didn't get Tiffany or Elena's signatures because, well, they were bitches. Oh well, their loss. I also signed Frankie's yearbook and wrote that I loved her."

Namęšéme smiled. "That's nice, Jessica. Well, now that you've put seventh grade behind you, let's hope that you'll do well in eighth grade, eh?"

"Not now. I wanna have fun this summer, not think about having to go back to school."

"Understandable."

At home, I helped Namęšéme and Mrs. Richardson take care of Amy in and out of the nursery. To be honest, the nursery itself looked really damn cool. The walls had all been painted this vibrant lavender color with a sequential mural painted in old heliotrope of Maheo (our Creator) spreading mud all over Grandmother Turtle's back, then Maheo creating plants and humans to live on Grandmother Earth, then Maheo creating different animals to fulfill the humans' needs, and finally Maheo creating buffalo for the humans to eat and make clothes and weapons from. Apparently, Namęšéme had commissioned Delta's father to make that mural on Amy's nursery walls, even going so far as to personify Maheo himself (which rarely happens with depictions of our Creator). The crib itself was pretty plain, not many things in there besides the mattress and the lavender bedsheets. It was originally my crib, and before that, it was Náhko'éehe's. It was at least nice to see it not go to waste. The nursery also had the usual rocking chair, changing table, and drawer for all of Amy's clothes and diapers.

"You've been doing such a good job with Amy, Jessica," Namęšéme told me while I was helping him change Amy's diaper. "Maybe someday, if you're willing to have kids yourself, you'll be a great mom."

I didn't speak for a while. That just burned. Way to remind me that I was the one who got Mrs. Richardson pregnant and not you.

"Jessica?" Namęšéme waved his hand in front of my face. "Jessica, you still with us?"

I quickly snapped back to reality. "Oh, sorry. I must have been distracted or something."

"I understand. Things haven't really been the same lately, have they?"

"No."

"Well, for better or worse, change is a necessary thing. Hopefully, it won't be too much of a problem, eh?" He cheekily winked at me. "After all, life is all about change."

"Yeah, sure."

All of a sudden, we heard Mrs. Richardson call us for dinner. After Namęšéme had placed Amy back inside the crib, we walked out of the nursery and joined Mrs. Richardson in the dining room. I was the first to notice a weird blank expression on her face. However, the strangeness didn't stop there. She walked over to the kitchen counter, seemingly unaware of what she was doing, and pulled out a steak knife form the silverware drawer.

"Everything all right, dear?" Namęšéme asked her gently.

She sat down at the table, the knife laying firmly on her lap. "I guess I'm just tired. I was preparing that steak for quite a while."

"Then maybe you should let me take the knife instead. I don't want you hurting yourself with it."

She acquiesced his decision and let him take the steak knife away from her. Something seemed wrong, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then again, she seemed to be dealing with I assumed were supposed to be "the baby blues" ever since Amy came home. I didn't understand. Weren't parents supposed to be happy when they had a baby? What reasons would they have to be so sad, especially the moms? And if this was a thing that really happened, how come nobody talked about it very much?

I couldn't let Mrs. Richardson hurt Amy, regardless of whether it was intentional or not. I felt like... like I had a duty to protect that little girl. She was only three months old, but I worried for her so much about what would happen if... oh God no... I couldn't bear to think about it. I couldn't let that happen.