Achi, on the other hand, moved on to being straight-up disruptive. As I was minding my business and getting things ready for school, she opened every single drawer and cabinet in the bedroom. The worst part? She didn’t close any of them!
“I think she’s trying to get your attention,” Pa told me.
But she won’t get it. I was resolved with this whole new level of unbothered maturity.
After she was done with all the drawers, she moved on to opening and closing the door repeatedly. My patience started to run out around the twentieth time. Instead of snapping at Achi and asking if she planned to stop being annoying anytime soon, I said, “Thanks for giving me a ride to school again.”
I can tell my gratitude threw her off the whole morning.
It was so satisfying that even when Pa told me he’d meet me after school, I didn’t linger on the fact he has thirty-eight days left. I waited until I wasinclass before I spiraled.
When we reviewed our investigative project pitches during chemistry, I kept staring at the big question on my worksheet.
Can I get my father’s ghost to stay?
My throat starts to constrict when I see everyone else in class listening to Ms. Abad like our investigative project is some life-or-death situation. So many of my classmates, kids all over the world, get 365 days a year with their dad, and I’m supposed to settle for forty days? I know Pa said that line about accepting things we can’t change, but what if I don’t want to accept this?
Speaking of things that are hard to accept, we’re forced to stay a few minutes after class because Dani has to deliver yet another prom announcement.
“Saint Agnes Class of 2015 set the record for most attendees to their prom,” Dani declares from the front of the room. “As your class president, I’m determined that we become the new record breakers, the trailblazers. Remember that all the proceeds from prom go to our scholarship fund. Let’s not crumble to the Class of 2015. Let’s not be victims of classism!”
Dani’s very passionate delivery actually gets a few people in class to nod along to her call against “classism.” The worst of them all is Kayla, who even claps for this mess.
“It’s for a good cause,” Kayla protests when I shoot her a side-eye.
Dani flashes a prom teaser video in front of the room that ends in a countdown with a bigger font than the flyer:38 DAYS UNTIL PROM.The countdown even has fireworks and Barbie animations on the side cheering.
Great. It’s like Barbie is cheering for my dad’s impending second death.
Even when the dismissal bell finally rings, I still can’t get rid of Dani. I try taking the most complicated route out and I still hear the heels of her loafers pattering behind me. She continues to hound me the whole way to the exit gate.
“Nika?” she asks when she catches up to my pace. “Were you in front of me this whole time?”
This type of acting is how stalkers get away with their crimes.
My indifference makes her drop the BS. “You know, there are many perks to heading the Prom-Companion Subcommittee,” Dani mentions.
“Is there a bigger perk thannotjoining the committee?”
“You can organize pre-prom events with the boys’ schools,” Dani offers, continuing her pitch. “Don’t you want to be the first one to flirt with potential prom dates?”
I’ve decided that this suggestion doesn’t warrant a response.
“It’s why I told Auntie Baby you would help plan a soiree at her place.”
“You didwhat?”
The only thing cringier than prom is the concept of a soiree. Leading up to prom every year, students at Saint Agnes organize these weird modern-day mating rituals. Since all-boys schools and all-girls schools have limited interaction, some decide to organize meetups where one class from the all-girls school hangs out with one class from the all-boys school.
“During our last prom comm meeting, Auntie Baby suggested that we have a soiree with Seph’s class, and since you two are neighbors, we thought you could cohost!”
“No.”
“Auntie Baby even said that your parents met through a soiree.”
“No,” I say again.
“And that you and Seph are really close.”
