Jumped Tone

It Depends

Even if Williams-Garcia hadn't labeled each chapter with the narrator's name, we would still be able to tell that the novel is narrated by three distinct voices (okay, four including Ivan). This is because each voice is different, and each tone reflects its narrator.

Trina = Bubbly and Cheerful

Trina has a voice that kind of makes us want to cover our ears. She is, without a doubt, the most chipper and positive narrator in the novel. Check her out:

I do my shaky-shake and keep shaking down the hall. I know he's laughing, trying to look serious, but why turn around and bust him? I brighten his day. He'll smile from now until 2:45. Why? Because that's what I do. Bring a little joy to someone's drab, dull day. That's right. I bring color to this school. (5.23)

Trina honestly believes that she makes the world a better place just by being in it. Just look at the words she uses to describe her encounter: laugh, brighten, smile, joy, and color. Trina's tone fluctuates between being really appealing and really annoying. And while we doubt that AP Shelton is really cutting Trina the slack that she thinks he is, he's definitely noticing her. Trina is not invisible because she makes herself visible, and this refusal to sink into the background comes through in her narration.

Dominique = Reflective and Aggressive

It'd be too easy to say that Dominique is just an aggressor. In fact, we understand very quickly that she's far more reflective about who she is and what makes her the ways she is than Trina. Even so, though, Dominique's aggressive nature often comes out in her tone during the chapters she narrates:

So she sets it, perfect frog arms spring, and it's up, straight up, ninety degrees. I'm off, I'm charging, I'm under it and it's hanging in the sweet spot and pss-slap! Hammer to nail. A spinning rocket to the back court line. That was good contact. Good slap. Good sting. My hand is burning. I could hit another. (18.18)

In gym class, when Dominique tries to cut in line, she's sent to the back and can only hit the volleyball at the end of class. Look at her language: The ball is sweet, the set is perfect, and then the contact and pain is described as "good." There's something about the aggression that Dominique enjoys.

But she's not just a violent person. Dominique is far more aware and honest about herself than we expect. She thinks:

I'm not dumb. This is it. This and Fourth Street is what I got. I have to fight grown men just to be picked to play. They be knocking me down just to make me sit down. Ride the bench. Know my place. So this team is all the shot I get. I'm done once I'm out. (15.17)

Dominique doesn't really open up to anyone, but we get a brief glimpse into her life beyond school. And she knows—knows—her limitations. Dominique has basketball. That's it. It's so sad to think that if Dominique had been a little more reflective about Trina's perceived offense, the fight might not have occurred. Still, though, she brings reflection as well as aggression to her pages.

Leticia = Feisty and Self-Involved

Leticia is straight up sassy. She talks back to teachers, tries to get the secretary to change her class, and attempts to sue the school for a broken nail. Sometimes, however, we totally agree with her assessment of the situation:

Our class has Black Boy, The Stranger, and Mr. Walsh's favorite, A Separate Peace. "A book every high school student must read," according to Walsh. I see his point. One day I might transfer to an elite military school, befriend a bunch of losers, climb a tree, and watch a classmate fall and break his leg. (7.6)

The odds of this happening are less likely than Leticia taking responsibility for any of her actions, but Leticia says some pretty funny things throughout the novel. Sometimes she intends them to be funny, like above, but sometimes they're funny unintentionally. Like when Leticia finds Mr. Yerkewicz having a heart attack in front of his class:

In the middle of my calming Bea down, Principal Bates tore Celina, my little girl, from my hands. One minute Celina was cradled to my ear, the next minute my warm little Celina was ripped away. I almost had a heart attack on the spot. I was no good for the rest of the day. (29.12)

She doesn't call the ambulance, or rush out of the room, or try to save the man's life. No, she calls and tells Bea all about Mr. Y's heart attack while he's having it. And then she has the audacity to compare losing her cell phone for the day to having a heart attack herself. Yikes, right? The gossip is far more important to Leticia than the man, and she shows no empathy for her teacher. This is only one example, but time and again Leticia is by far the most self-centered character in the novel and the tone she takes to events as they happen shows it.