I poked at the pile of scrambled eggs on my plate, wondering if I could possibly fake being sick to delay my first day of senior year a little longer.
Maybe I could claim food poisoning from the takeout I ordered yesterday?
…No. My mom would never buy it, and even if she did, I really didn’t want my favorite Chinese restaurant to
be slapped with a
lawsuit. What about
the
flu? Mono? Strep
throat? Sudden
amnesia? My mind
raced
through a million fake
excuses as to why I
can’t go to school
today, but that darned
maternal instinct would
undoubtedly see
through all of them in a
minute, and I’d just
earn myself a nice
grounding instead.
“…Maya? Maya!”
I started, my fork
clattering against the
plate. “What did you
say?” I asked
distractedly, trying to
get my bearings after
being lost in my
thoughts for the past
ten minutes.
“Are you feeling ok?”
my mom repeated.
“You’ve barely touched
your food.”
I looked down and
realized she was right.
The scrambled eggs
and bacon—usually my
favorite breakfast—
was far from gone.
I took a deep breath,
about to lie and say
that no, I didn’t really
feel ok and that I’m
not
up for classes today,
but my darned
conscience had to kick
in
at that moment. “I’m
fine,” I said, pasting a
smile on my face. “I’m
just not really hungry.”
My mom arched her
eyebrows and took a
sip of her coffee. She’s
like Lorelai from Gilmore
Girls—a total coffee
addict. She had at least
eight cups a day,
despite my insistence
so much caffeine is not
good for her health. You
would think she’d know
that, since she works
in
the health industry and
all. “Nervous?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I
guess.” That’s one way
to put it, but ‘nervous’
isn’t an adequate
description for the
Texas-sized pit of
anxiety in my stomach.
“You’ll be fine,
sweetie,”
Mom said soothingly.
“You were fine last
year. Straight A’s! And
you’re not even new
anymore.”
That’s precisely the
problem. I’m not new,
which means after a
year at Valesca
Academy, I know how
it works. Trust me, it’s
not pretty. But more on
that later.
To be continue
