Time and again, Dani proves she doesn’t know what any of these “big words” actually mean.
“Forcing people into dates isn’t a movement, Dani. If anything, it’s movingbackfeminism,” I state in bewildered horror.
“That’s why I picked you. I know you’ll be able to steer the committee in the right direction,” she says with so much sincerity, as if we’re joining forces to solve global warming.
I’m not buying it.
“What’s the real reason, Dani?”
I stare her down and block her from reciting another passage from the student handbook. She turns to Kayla for help, but Kayla only pats her hones-tea button in response.
“Fine,” Dani says, dropping the act. “During our meetings with the parents’ association, Auntie Baby keeps asking me to get you involved.”
I blink at her. “You were gonna give me a prom comm position… because of Auntie Baby?”
“The alumni also get a big say on the leadership awards.”
“Well, well, well,” I say, twirling my fingers. “As student council president, I thought you’d know better than to give in to nepotism.”
Dani stiffens. “I never give favoritism to my nephews.”
I’m about to explain that nepotism isn’t just limited to nephews, but I decide to use my energy elsewhere.
“Not interested,” I tell Dani firmly, annoyed at how long this conversation has gone on for.
“You lose a lot of things when you shut people out, Nika,” Dani says as she gets up from our table and hands me a flyer with text that looks like it was typed in 90-size font:39 DAYS UNTIL PROM!
After emphasizing to Dani that I’m very comfortable with losing things, she finally gets the hint and I can finally return to my research.
Except Kayla keeps watching me.
Then she carefully asks, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, folding the ridiculous prom countdown flyer and highlighting another Bible verse that mentions spirits.
“It’s just… you’re reading.”
“I know how to read.”
“But you’re reading the Bible,” Kayla says. “That makes a best friend worry.”
My heart always feels a little fuller whenever Kayla calls me her best friend. I mean, she’s definitelymybest friend, but I always wonder how I qualify as hers.
In grade school, Kayla was once given an award for compassion. Like, our teachers felt the need to award her for being a good person. When we had a fifth-grade viewing ofThe LionKing, Kayla stepped out in tears because her heart was breaking over the animated lions.
Can you blame me for questioning why someone that nice gets me for a best friend?
I’ve never even talked to Kayla about what happened to Pa. As the daughter of Auntie Grace, one of the founding members of the Marie-tres, I’m pretty sure she’s already heard plenty of stories. Still, during Father’s Day last year, I remember Kayla bought me Potato Corner fries out of nowhere. She never explained and I never asked why.
Talking to Dani made me lose so many brain cells, but she might be onto something about me shutting people out.
So I ask my best friend, “You believe in things you can’t see, right?”
“Nika, that’s the literal definition of faith.”
That’s when the words spill out of me. I tell her everything from not following Ma’s pagpag rule to seeing Pa in the bathroom and him being invisible to everyone else. I ramble on about all my theories, every random fact I picked up online, even about the scientist who experimented on dead pigs. Panicking over how I have absolutely no idea how much time I have left with Pa.
As I’m verbalizing all these thoughts that have been whirling around in my head, everything suddenly sounds… ridiculous. Absurd, preposterous, like some batshit headline you’d see in a Facebook post that gets spread by aunties and uncles. What am I doing telling this to another person?
