I have a high school bucket list. With all the fixings of a teenage dream.
- ( ) Play at a concert
- ( ) Get a partner
- ( ) A covenish away from my covenmates
- ( ) Go to all the coolest high school parties
- ( ) Homecoming dances
- ( ) Join a club/ win a competition.
- ( ) Set the school on fire. (Yoshi's personal touch)
- ( ) Have sex at prom with a human even though I’m not a virgin*
But I can't have it all if plot holes aren't filled in. Jerome wasn't completely clean-cut like he led on. Now I regret getting his buddy’s number.
"We begin the first assessments. Measurements will be taken with the teachers' assistants. When you're done, file in at the exit to the right. Single-file lines, everybody!" Coach Hendricks called.
On one hand, Damien wasn't lying. He's been best friends with Jerome Henderson, the actual principal's son, Rachel Shultski Edwards, a midfielder of The Madison High's Sting Rays, Christopher Berrymore, a linebacker on the football team, Ivan Sanchez, a striker on the soccer team, and his boyfriend Nathaniel Vanguard Jolivera. Ironically, he’s also the point guard on the basketball team. Then there are outliers Damien McKenzie, Amber Jackson, and her loyal boyfriend Michael Chandler. They don't do sports much like Jerome but the three of them separately used to hang out with Head of Cheerleading Sydney Tarol, completing the proverbial “40 Karot Crew”...but then around the end of junior year, Sydney and the rest of the cheer team closed ranks and cut ties “Madison High Crown Jewels.” Damien “The Devil Dog” shot down rumors for fun. Not a soul has spoken ill will of the “40K”. Although one area of note, Jerome went AWOL all summer. Not showing up to parties, not even the ones Rachel held.
I sighed a big sigh, "Do you think he realized what happened after the school year ended and felt guilty?"
Valeria's eyes widened, "What? Those vipers? Damien was even threatening to expose secret accounts to a bunch of people's parents if he heard the rumor maker say anything. And it’s everyone around the rumor maker too. I knew I shouldn't have accepted his stupid friend requests in middle school." She punched her hand and grumbled angry words to herself.
Luliya interjected, "If he really felt sorry, he would have apologized to the people he has hurt and detached from his so-called friends. Disband the whole group altogether, just to be safe."
Harsh. Although I do understand the accountability part, not everyone can just cut off lifelong friendships. Jerome would be alone. Depending on what happened and the severity of the situation, I need more information. Otherwise, I'm ignoring glaring characteristics for the benefit of my own fun.
Luliya had a point. If he truly did want forgiveness, he'd at least try going forward. Unless he doesn't know where to start. Could I help him? Like a secret agent friend.
"When all you can see is yourself making all of the wrong choices, sometimes doing nothing looks like the better option," I replied.
The assistant sounded off, “Four- eleven. One-ten. Sit and reach, Twenty-five and toe-touch…all palms? Is that a zero, Coach?”
Valeria beamed with self-accomplishment.
“Five-eleven. Two-o-ten?”
Luliya shot back a grin. “It’s the muscles.”
“Sit and reach, twenty and toe-touch, three. Pretty good.”
Great, now to embarrass myself.
"Five-eight. One twenty-five. Sit and reach. Eighteen and toe-touch five."
"Wow, you're as stiff as a board," Valeria commented.
I sighed in agreement. We walked in ponderance to the next station.
"...you literally just got here, but trust me, they'll show their true colors in time. I'm not going to tell you who you can’t be friends with at the end of the day." She shrugged back.
We were grouped by class and were led to the school's professional basketball court, across the hall. I heard this is where all the games are held. The whole area was separated into a massive foursquare. The other tests, push-ups, sit-ups, and finally, the FitnessGram Pacer Test. I think a one-mile run is being held outside. Everyone made their way through the training ground with ease. Except for me. The thought that I was pretty athletic compared to my classmates? Twenty push-ups were all I could manage. The rest of the girls of our group waited and watched as three other girls, along with Rachael, Valeria, and Luliya, were tied with the guys. In every category, they kept up. There were still a couple of categories I did better in. Valeria had the weakest grip strength, and Luliya sucks at pacer test running and the 1-mile track. I even beat Rachel. Although upon the blow of the whistle for me to get off the field, I saw that I had beaten way more people than I had expected. Finally, at the bleachers for rest and final results registration.
Valeria plopped herself next to me, "Ugh, I'm spent!" She groaned in a bath of her own sweat.
Head to the sky, Luliya said something in Arabic. Not a single person in our band of girls, even Rachel guzzling water two rows back, had once mentioned my outfit or my body. It was like Raven Camp with the coven again.
"Can I get your numbers? You guys are really cool, and I wanna thank you all for hanging out with me today."
Valeria Martin wants to be a wildlife veterinarian. Luliya Addisu's personal growth aligns more with the military. She wants to be the highest rank there is and change the chain of command so that wars are not fought, but bridges are built. Truly inspiring friends to have in close company. Plus, their air of no judgment is relieving.
Once the day ended, it was very easy to finish all other schoolwork at school. Sucks that the library stays open until six pm. The sun painted a picturesque setting in autumn orange and browns. Finishing the first assignment for photography. I can invert it and write something about feeling upside down in a new space or something deep and tragic.
Tomorrow will be better, for a plan has been brooding.
Bursting through the door of my home with excitement, I cheered, "Mom!"
"Welcome home, sweetie." She nodded.
Grandpa's chair next to the fireplace was Mom's favorite spot. She cozied up to read books on ‘how to make dreams tangible.’
"Wanna talk about your day? Dinner's gonna be ready in a bit."
"So much. I made friends."
"Oh, thank goodness." She fainted dramatically with relief.
My entire recap of today's events went on as I changed, washed up, and helped with making dinner.
Mouth full as usual, Mom interrupted, "So you mean to tell me that you were pounced on by some handsome little boy and now you've got a team of popular teen bodyguards escorting you around or something?"
White rice with black beans and jerk chicken. I'll eat my mom's cooking a million times over. I'm sorry, Aunt Min, but even you go crazy over her food.
"But here's the thing, Mom, it's his friend. His friend did something terrible. That's all I know for now."
Clattle. Her look was deeply concerned. A chill.
"Feyisha Simone Vernier. Do you know what you're walking into?"
I'm confused. I can feel myself tense up.
"Now, honey, I don't want a say on who you can and cannot hang out with, but hear this. Watch your back. That sounds like a red flag." She warned.
Gulping down hard, even the Syvers couldn't warm that cold out of the air. She grabbed my hands to look into my eyes.
"But you'll be okay. Trust your judgment; I'll trust yours. Okay, baby?" She smiled.
I nodded and took another spoonful. We put away all the dishes and put the leftovers in the Tupperware and the empty bento boxes that Aunt Min sent my lunches in. I wonder if Uncle Terry is going to send something this time?
"Hey, Mom, who are you sending this one to?" I asked.
"There are four containers. Who else?"
"Uncle CJ and Uncle Terry?"
This made her look at me like I wasn’t making sense: "How old are Vanessa and Jazzy?"
“They’re being enrolled into The Nursery, so like four or five?" I shrugged.
With wide eyes, Mom picked up speed, "Oh my goodness, I forgot!"
"Who were you going to send these to?"
Mom rummaged through her cookbook on the top shelf of the pantry, answering. "Mrs. Hollander!"
I stared at her blankly. "Mrs. Hollander literally lives at the same schoolhouse. She has her husband, and he's always cooking."
"Haven't you heard of just being nice to someone? She was nice to you." She responded, rapidly flipping through the cookbook grimoire.
I cocked my head to the side. "No, she wasn't. Taught me all of that regal shit with a ruler taped to my back."
"You had terrible posture." She shrugged.
"And what about the 'Taste of Nothing' spell?" I remarked back.
Mom stifled a laugh, "You were a picky eater. What else was she supposed to do?"
"Okay, but what about the-"
"Found it!" She proudly announced, "I'm sending them chicken feet and brown rice."
Quickly, I corrected her, "Fish sauce. Those kids will not eat chicken feet. I will eat chicken feet."
"Well, not if you introduce it to them later in life. Eww, raw fish, how could you, mommy?" She mocked.
And now I love sushi.
"Need help tomorrow?"
"Mm, you've got school, young lady. Let me handle this one."
But cooking time was always our time. Music she’d share and stories she’d tell. Now more stories. By the time I rolled into bed, it was eight pm. Yoshi's probably in school doing nothing right now.
'Hey, foot fungus, thanks for today.'
'And yet I'm still foot fungus? Why, bro, what did my feet ever do to you?'
'Do you want me to send you the feet pics back to you?'
'Are you going to give me a diagnosis? Last I checked, you're not my mom. That was an accident.'
We went on till he had to go. Now he's in Daegu, Korea, visiting his mom's sister and their kids. Lucky him.
ns216.73.216.67da2
and then Add to home screen.