I sit in the first row, but on the corner seat. It’s the perfect spot because teachers think I care, but I’m far enough to the side that they don’t notice me. Genius.
There’s a cute blond girl walking straight toward me. My mind immediately goes back to my plan. She might make a good Bianca replacement. She has this bounce to her walk that makes her ponytail sway. She’s wearing a blue ribbon in her hair and a huge, adorable grin that makes me nervous. I think I look at her a millisecond longer than I should. I have to be more careful. I don’t see her two friends following her until they take the other seats near me and I feel like I’m being cornered. There’s still three minutes left before the next bell.
“Hi, I’m Jenna!” says the cute blonde. “This is Emily and Karen.” She points to her friends, who smile as she introduces them. Karen has strawberry-blond hair and a ton of freckles. Emily’s short brown hair barely fits into her ponytail. While they’re all white, Karen has a pretty obvious spray tan, and Emily’s dark brown hair contrasts with her vampire-looking skin, which looks to have never seen the light of day. All three of them have matching blue ribbons as hair ties.
“I’m Yamilet.” I hold my hand out to shake Jenna’s before I realize this is not a business meeting. I don’t know. It feels like everything should be formal when you’re in uniforms.
“Oh my God, she’s so cute,” Jenna says.
“What?” I feel like I’m blushing.
Emily giggles. “It’s cute that you do handshakes.”
It’s cute that you think I care you’re leaving. I remember how Bianca’s laugh salted the wound. How I froze up in front of my boss and the customers, who all seemed to be enjoying the show. We’re not friends anymore. Go ahead and run away to Catholic school.
“What?” I swallow. I know I missed something.
“How do you pronounce your name again?” Jenna asks.
“Yah-mee-let,” I repeat phonetically. But the look on their faces tells me they’ll never be able to pronounce it. “But if you want, you can call me Yami.”
“Yummy, that’s adorable,” Karen says, scooting on top of my desk.
“Thanks.” I try not to sound annoyed that she couldn’t even pronounce my nickname.
“So where are you from?” Karen asks. All three of them lean toward me like it’s some kind of secret.
“Rover . . . it’s a public school. You’ve probably never heard of it. It’s kind of far.”
“No, I meant, um, like, I like your accent. Where are you from?” She squints and cranes her neck. Emily’s face goes red.
Oh.
“Phoenix.” I force a smile. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of telling her what she really wants to know. Who does that?
“Oh my God, Karen, you can’t just ask people where they’re from!” Emily scolds.
The next bell rings, and I take a deep breath. This is going to be a long day.
The teacher, Mrs. Havens, is tall, overly fake-tanned, and platinum blond. After running a quick roll call, she turns the TV on, and the script for the Pledge of Allegiance is displayed on the screen. Everyone stands, puts their hands on their hearts, and starts chanting.
My dad always told me I don’t have to do or say anything I don’t believe in; he only stood for what he felt was right. “Liberty and justice for all” never applied to people like us. The last time I saw him in person was at a protest. There was this anti-immigration law getting passed that would make racial profiling legal and my dad wasn’t having it. I thought his green card would keep him safe, but I was wrong. He got arrested at the protest, and I haven’t seen him since.