It Made Me Sick

I sat behind the boy who was getting yelled at. The back of his neck turned red.
Faintly audible, he murmured: “shut ... up.”
I knew that he didn’t really want the teacher to hear that.
But she did.
I raised my hand. The teacher—who was now slapping him—did not call on me. I kept my hand up. Finally, she recognized me.
“I feel sick,” I uttered.
“Uh, go to the bathroom,” she said, wild and panicked, pointing to the door.
With one hand over my mouth, race walking, I reached the entrance to the Girls Bathroom. Powerless to do much else, I threw up on the floor.