“Be serious,” she scolds, then lets the tiniest smile crack. “You both look nice.”
When we go out to the car, Bianca and her mom are walking out of their house across the street. I hide my face by making a visor out of my hand and book it to the car, praying my mom won’t notice them.
But, of course, she does.
From the front seat, I can see Mami wave enthusiastically as she walks toward the car, but Bianca and her mom kind of just ignore her.
“That was weird,” Mami says when she opens the car door and steps in, Cesar sliding into the back seat behind her.
“I told you, we’re not friends anymore,” I say, slouching in my seat so Bianca won’t see me when they drive past us. Not that she was looking.
“Well, that’s no reason for them to be rude!” Mami frowns.
“Sorry,” I mumble, as if it’s my fault.
Thankfully, she changes the subject and spends the rest of the car ride gushing about how proud she is of us and how she’s excited for us to “start this new chapter in our lives.” She’s actually made it a point to mention how proud she is of both of us, not just Cesar, since the Etsy store is a lot more successful than either of us predicted it would be. Still, I wish she wouldn’t tell me she’s proud of me. I don’t want to disappoint her. I ignore her and post another jewelry video from my drafts to TikTok.
When we pull up to the school, I’m surprised at how much space five small buildings dare to take up. There’s a chapel and a gym across the student parking lot, and a huge courtyard separating the cafeteria from the office and the building where most of the classrooms are, all the room doors accessible from the outside. The lockers are outside next to the courtyard. Lovely. More time to be out in this Satan’s ballsack heat. When we get out of the car, I sneeze from the smell of real, freshly manicured grass wafting past my nose on the hot breeze.
Despite how spaced out they are, it seems like I’ll be able to see every building from just about anywhere on campus. On one hand, I feel like I’m burning under a microscope because this school is so much smaller. But at the same time, it seems like it’ll be a lot easier to look out for Cesar here. There’s nowhere he can get jumped at this school without me knowing.
After Mami leaves, Cesar and I are glued at the hip. We say it’s so we can help each other find everything, but I’m pretty sure we both know that’s BS. Being alone is scary. I’m supposed to be replacing Bianca, but I have no idea where to start. There’s already a bunch of kids in the courtyard, so I’m playing this game in my head called “spot the person of color.” So far, I’ve only seen a handful of Asian kids, one Black guy, and a few Brown kids. Total, there’s like a dozen kids out of a couple hundred. Including Cesar and me. I hate how visible that makes me feel.
I notice my skirt is the only one rolled up. Somehow, no one else’s skirts are reaching their ankles. I bet they have them hemmed that way. Mom wouldn’t let me “deface” my skirt. She said they were too expensive to risk altering, in case there were mistakes.
When the bell rings, Cesar and I are forced to go our separate ways. Cesar to smart-people classes. Me, language arts. I speed-walk through the courtyard so I’m not alone in the open for too long. As quick as I’m going, a couple of kids still pass me. Since all the classroom buildings are outside, it takes me less than a minute to get to my class, room A116, and it’s already more than half-full. It makes me feel like a cool kid for once, strolling into class without a care in the world, with only four minutes to spare before the next bell.
The second I’m in the door, the cool air from the AC washes over me. The AC at Rover was spotty sometimes, and the number of students packing their body heat into each classroom didn’t help. That’s not an issue here, but I still find myself sweating. Between the bloody crucified Jesus, judgy Virgin Mary, and the tortured saints on the wall, this room is worse than my mom’s Hallway of Shame. I’m glad I stayed up last night doing that bullshit assignment now. I have a feeling this teacher wouldn’t have been forgiving.