“What guy? I need a name. Do you think it’s true that the guys from CCH have bigger...ya know?”
“Oh my god, Amanda!” I laugh so hard I start choking on my own spit.
I’m in the middle of a coughing fit and she still doesn’t stop. “Penny once said that she was at a party and some of the football players were dared to compare. She said it was like nothing she’d ever seen before, and that’s saying a lot for Penny.”
Flipping over onto my stomach, I prop myself up on my elbows and look out the bay window in my bedroom. “First of all, Penny was probably drunk. Second of all, I do not know and I don’t ever plan to find out. Third of all, you made me lose my train of thought.”
“You mentioned a guy….”
“Oh, yes. So, there was this guy who I thought was trying to help me because I was the new kid—”
“Was he hot?”
“Seriously, girl, if you were here right now, I might slap you,” I tease. “Would you let me finish?”
“I’m listening.”
“He started off being nice the first half of the day, but then he asked me to sit with him at lunch and his girlfriend dumped water down the back of my shirt.”
“She’s jealous, obviously,” Amanda spits out.
“Maybe. But, I’m pretty sure he was in on it, because afterwards, he got all up in my face and accused me of stealing from him. Then he cornered me after school and started throwing accusations my way. It was really fucking weird.”
“I’ve also heard that the guys there are weird. Penny once told me—”
“Ok. Ok, stop it. I don't care what Penny told you. Enough about my day.” I pause for a beat before my voice drops, “Have you seen him at all?”
“Actually, rumor has it that he left for some school out of state.”
My heart sinks a little bit, but deep down, I know it’s better this way. Jordan and I had no future. We were toxic to each other and even if our stars were aligned, it would never work. Society would never allow it. He would never allow it. Not to mention, he threw me under the bus when times got tough, just so he could cover his own ass.
“Good. The farther away the better,” I tell her.
“Nadia,” Mom hollers, followed by a few knocks at my bedroom door. “Come downstairs, please. We’d like to hear about your day.”
“One sec,” I holler back. “I gotta go, Amanda. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“You better. And if the water girl messes with you again, bring back the old Nadia. She wouldn’t take that shit from anyone.”
“I might be at a different school, but I’m still the same person. If she comes at me again, she’ll have to learn the hard way who she’s messing with.”
“That’s my girl.”
I end the call with a goodbye and roll off my bed. Feeling sluggish and like I could go to sleep right now and not wake up until the morning.
Dragging my feet, I go downstairs where Mom and Dad are waiting at the kitchen island. Dad’s on a call and Mom’s tossing a salad. Standing on the foot of the step, I watch them. A smile spreads across my face when Mom walks past him and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. He gives her a wink and it’s everything that I want someday. My parents have such a good marriage, and I’ve been fortunate enough to be raised in a loving home.
“Come on in, Sweetie. I was just setting the table for dinner,” Mom says as she rounds the center island and sets an acacia wood salad bowl in the center of the table. Another thing I’ve been fortunate enough to have is a mom who prefers to cook homemade meals. She even does the majority of the cleaning, save for the maid that comes in twice a month to do a deep clean. I was raised with money, but I was also raised by my own parents. No nannies, no babysitters—it’s always just been us. “How was your first day?” Mom continues.
Walking over to the stove, I grab a potholder and lift the pan of lasagna and follow behind her. She sets down a couple cooling pads and I put the pan on top. “Really good. I think I’ll like it there.” It’s a semi-lie. I’d love more than anything to graduate from East Pointe, but it’s not an option.
Dad ends his call and side-eyes me. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” He teases.
“What?” I huff with a grin, “I really did like it.”
He calls my bluff, like he always does. “Two days ago you were crying in your bedroom because you dreaded going to public school.”
Making my way back over to the table, I pull out a chair and sit down. Trying to save face, I begin digging in. “And that was before I actually went and realized it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”
Mom joins me across the table. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Eventually this will be behind us and we can all move on with our lives.”
When she says it like that, it stings a little. I know that my actions didn’t only affect me and Jordan, they also affected my parents. They’ve had to deal with the repercussions more so than I have. Dad’s caught grief from members of the country club, Mom left her position as the treasurer on the school board at East Pointe. They’ve both come to my defense more times than I can count. To say I’m blessed would be an understatement.
Swallowing down my salad, I agree with her. “Yep. Everything is going to be fine. Right after graduation, I’m leaving for NYU with Amanda, and you won’t have to worry about any of this nonsense.”
Mom and Dad share a look that has the fork in front of my mouth freezing. “What? Why are you looking at each other like that?”
“That’s one of the things I needed to talk to you about, Sweetie,” Mom says. I drop my fork onto my plate and fold my hands in my lap to listen. Mentally preparing for some really bad news. “Apparently, East Pointe runs on a different credit system than Cutler Creek High. According to the guidance counselor, you’re going to be two credits short for graduation.”
My jaw drops open. “What? No! Are you trying to tell me that I won’t get to graduate?”
Dad chimes in giving his two cents on the matter. “There are two options. You can walk with the class without receiving an official diploma and do six weeks of summer school to earn the two credits. Two credits equals two classes.”
“And the other option?”
He continues, “You have the option to test out of one of the classes needed and you can do a school-related extracurricular activity to earn the other missing credit. Tutoring, drama club performance, choir performances.”
“I’ll do it,” I spit out. “There is no way that I’m doing summer school and sticking around this town longer than I need to. I have a 4.0, I can test out with no problem. And I’ll just...tutor or something.” Digging my fork into my salad, I take another bite, mentally calming myself down. As long as I can graduate as planned, I’ll do whatever needs to be done.
Jordan is in another state moving on with his life, and I’ll do the same. Our choices had an echo, but I’ll be damned if my future is anything short of a victory because of some stupid high school mistake.
5
Zack