Oopsie, looks like I’m awake again! I find myself on my bed, still in my school clothes, my phone awkwardly lying on my chest. How long did I pass out? Is it morning now??? Fuck. Let me check my phone. Let’s see. Oh, it’s 5 AM. Yeah, it’s basically just morning. Well, I might as well get breakfast. I fell asleep while I was going down a rabbit hole looking up paintings from the Harlem Renaissance. Ooh, it gave me a really good idea for a new piece. I should do a little drawing before school.

Okay, breakfast first though. I don’t want a repeat of last Thursday. I go to the kitchen of our apartment. Toaster strudel time! I like toaster strudel, it’s my favorite. I don’t know what to draw with the icing today, so I just draw a little hippo. His name is Fred. I ate him, now he’s gone.

“Girl, what are you doing up so early this morning?” My dad asks me, emerging from the shadows. My dad is my black half. He’s got this kinda messed up short hair, no facial hair, and a slightly pointed chin. Man, am I glad he doesn’t get facial hair.

“I woke up,” I explain.

“Naahh, really? Why aren't you going back to bed? You're missing out on an hour of sleep."

“I think I wanna draw a little before school. I'm feeling inspired!”

“This is why you're always falling asleep in class. I better not hear from your teachers about that again!” he says in a mock scolding voice.

“Oh shit, did they really call home about that?”

“Yeah, I guess they want you to learn in their classes or something. I dunno.”

“Impossible. How am I supposed to do that?”

“Well, being awake is a good start. Just don’t get yourself in detention again, please.”

“Hmm. I'll see what I can do.”

Dad works as a plumber. Shitty job, but it pays well enough to get us a reasonably good apartment, so I’m not complaining. Which reminds me, I’m early enough to see my mom get home from work.

My mom? Uh, well. For most of my life they weren’t really straight with me about what her occupation is. They just told me she works at a “restaurant.” I’m old enough now to figure out what’s really going on, though. It’s cool and all, but I try not to think about it. Since, you know, it’s my mom. Ew.

Indeed, my mom comes in just as I’m finishing breakfast. She’s my white half, being (what I objectively acknowledge to be) very pretty. She has a smooth, pale face with a smattering of freckles on each cheek, long bright red hair and green eyes (the latter of which I inherited.)

Something’s wrong today, though. She looks depressed and a little scared when she comes in.

“Hi Mom,” I greet her. “Is something wrong?”

“Charlotte… Well, Mommy needs to look for a new job, it seems…”

“WHAT?” Dad exclaims. “You quit ?”

“N-no, I was… let’s talk about it in our room, please.”

And then they go back to our room. I’m puzzled. Mom wouldn’t just get fired like that. I mean, I guess she’s getting a little old for that stuff, but it barely shows. Why’d they turn on her like that?

I never really get a good explanation. All I know is something I heard my dad muttering later. You see, he has this tic, where if he gets really upset about something, he kind of mutters it to himself under his breath again and again. And I just so happened to hear him muttering, “Those bastards should be in jail. Those bastards should be in jail. Those bastards should be in jail…”

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I stay true to my word to Mason and attend the band’s Christmas concert. All the schools in the district come together for one concert, so there are a couple of middle school bands that play before they get to the high school. It’s nice to relax and listen to Christmas music, albeit played with varying levels of skill. I got Ruth to come along with me too. After the high school’s top band finishes playing, we go to greet Mr. Castro, as he’s a friend from church.

“ Buenas noches , Mr. Castro,” Ruth greets him.

“Ah, Ruth. Boa tarde to you too!” He laughs heartily. “And Kevin! Thanks for coming out tonight.”

“You did a great job with them,” I tell him. “I needed a little Christmas cheer.”

“I think we all do right now,” he says. From there, he gets whisked away to talk to another family.

“Oh yeah, Ruth. Can I ask a weird question?” I say.

“Sure.”

“Does it ever make you feel weird that… you know, he has the same last name as the dictator of your home country?”

She chuckles lowly. “Not really. It’s a fairly common name in Latin America.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry, had to ask. Anyway, let’s go pester some of our friends who are up on stage.”

“You go ahead. I don’t really like crowds, so I think I’m going to go get some air. Let me know when you’re about to leave.”

“No problem.”

I climb onto the stage, and see that Anja is already in the process of annoying Ashley. I join in. Both are wearing their black concert dresses, which look really nice. Ashley and Anja indeed look about as tired as I feel. Anja looks like she’s about to pass out, and Ashley is looking vaguely off into space, still holding her french horn in her lap.

“Hey guys. Really great concert you put on tonight!” I say.

“Thanks,” Ashley says.

“Hey Kevin,” Anja greets, before yawning loudly.

“You look really tired out,” I comment.

“Yeah, well. I haven't been sleeping particularly well.”

“You too, huh?”

“Yeah.”

I guess it hasn’t really been easy for any of us. I did decide to take Ruth’s advice and sign up for therapy, which Anja helped with. But that doesn’t start until after the break. Not sure what I’m going to do until then…

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“Got any plans for the next couple weeks?” I ask. “We're sticking around town.”

“Yeah, mostly the same here,” Anja answers. “We'll go see my grandparents in New Braunfels on Christmas Day, though. What about you, Ashley?”

“We're going to visit my dad's family in California for the first week,” she says.

“Okay, nice. Is Zoe going with?”

“Yes.”

“Got anything fun planned?”

“Not particularly.”

“I was thinking of getting my hair dyed,” Anja says, combing her hair with her fingers absentmindedly. “Haven't decided which color yet, though.”

“What's your favorite color?” I ask Anja.

“Green. But uh, I don't want to have green hair. That's too attention-seeking even for me. What do you think, Ashley?”

“My favorite color is pink,” she answers.

“Huh, really? That's kinda surprising.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. You're kinda tomboy-ish.

“Am I?”

“I mean, you don't exactly dress up much for school.”

“Well, why would I? I don't care about impressing anyone.”

“Well, wearing cute clothes makes you feel confident!”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, of course. Express yourself, Ashley. Show the world the real you!”

“Yeah, that tends to not go over well.”

“I think Ashley has enough confidence on her own, honestly,” I interject into the conversation.

“Thanks, Kevin,” Ashley says dryly. “If you don’t mind, I still need to put my instrument away.”

“Alright. Shall we make our way to the hall, then?” Anja asks me.

“Sure.”

We step off of the stage, walk down the aisle, and then end up in the main front hall of the high school. Many parents and students are gathered here, chattering away. We approach what must be Zoe’s family, as Zoe is talking to a middle-aged woman who looks like her, a middle-aged man who looks less like her but has her nose, and two boys who also look like her, one of whom I recognize as being named Derrick Parker, and the other one I don’t recognize but looks a little younger than her.

The man who I presume is Zoe’s dad is saying, “I always said that Mr. Castro does a fine job with this program. That was a mighty fine job you kids did.”

“Thank you!” Zoe replies cheerily. “I agree, I really like him.”

“You keep working hard on your instrument, honey,” her mom says, smiling and brushing a strand of Zoe’s hair to the side. “It's great for gaining skills for later in life!”

“Yeah, it is! Hi Anja! Hi Kevin!”

“Sup,” Anja greets. “Oh hey, Collin. What's going on?” she says to Zoe’s younger brother.

Collin shoots her an insulted look. “Uh, who are you?”

“Come on, we met once, didn't we? I'm Anja.”

“Oh yeah, Zoe's mentioned you. Wow, you really are short.”

Anja hisses. “Wow, you really are predictable!” She storms off.

Two other slightly younger students I don’t recognize come up to Collin. “Nice going, dipshit. You just insulted Nova's crush,” says a dark-skinned girl. The other one, a skinny boy with long, black hair, simply sighs at him.

“Oh shit. I didn’t know! Oh wait, I don’t actually care,” Collin retorts grouchily.

Zoe turns towards the girl, looking excited. “Oh, so you know about Nova's crush?

“Yeah. You know too?” she replies.

“He told me about it. I think they'd be so cute together!”

“That little bitch will never tell her, though.” The girl rolls her eyes. “He's just gonna spend months, years even, prattling around. I know my brother.”

“Awh… Oh, maybe we could help him out!”

Nova’s sister gets a devious look on her face. “You know what? Fuck it. Let's do it. Where is he at?”

“I think I saw him back there!” Zoe says. The two girls quickly start to make their way through the crowd.

Zoe’s mom turns to see where Zoe went, and then catches sight of the dark-haired boy standing at Collin’s side. “Oh, is this boy a friend of yours, Collin?” she asks.

Collin turns pink, looking strangely uncomfortable. “Uh, yeeeah. He’s my friend!”

It’s around that time that I realize that I don’t actually know any of the people I’m still standing near, so I decide to make for somewhere else. Before long, I bump into Mason. His face has a red ring from all the playing he just did at the concert.

“Hey man,” he greets. “Good to see you here, thanks for coming.”

“Good to be here,” I reply, as we shake hands.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking. Why don't you just go back to club soccer? At least there'd be no locker rooms.”

“Yeah, I've thought about that.”

“You should go for div II. We'll go out on the weekends, just you and me. The school field will be open. And we'll make sure you stay in good condition.” “Div. II” refers to a higher level of club soccer play, in which you have to formally try out for a team.

“It would be easier with a friend. Thanks a lot.” From there, our conversation trails off into planning out our regiment.

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I probably shouldn’t have blown up on Collin like that. But after the shitty past week I’ve had I’m not as light-hearted as usual. All I want to do is fall asleep and never wake up. I really don’t feel like talking to anyone else, so I find my dad, and we’re about to head out when I realize that I left my backpack in the band hall.

The hallway by the band room is mostly empty, but by some stupid luck Ruth is there. She must’ve come to watch the concert. I tried to act like I didn’t see her, but it turns out to be futile when she greets me with, “Good evening, Anja.”

“Hi.”

“Good concert. I enjoyed it.”

“Thanks.”

“I was hoping to privately talk to you about something. Is now a good time?”

“No, not really,” I say, trying to keep my irritation out of my voice and failing.

“Okay. When would be a good time, then? You've been cold with me since I joined the team and I want to get it resolved.”

I don’t even try this time. “Well, gee. I wonder why that would be. HMMMMM.”

“Let's please get to the point.”

An ugly anger is starting to rise within me. “Well, let's see… Oh yeah. I never quite got over how you abandoned me!”

“Abandoned you? What are you referring to?”

“Come off it!” I snap at her. “You know how hard it's been for me these past year? After we broke up, I had nobody for a long time. My only other friend left a note on my locker calling me a slur. And then I just got to be lonely for three whole years. Until the beginning of this year when I met Nova and Ashley.”

“But we mutually decided to break up. It wasn't abandonment, we were just done dating.”

“But you never stuck up for me!”

“I was never around when you were being picked on. If I had been, I would've.”

The first tear starts coming down my face, as I vividly picture the day we broke up. “But then why did you tell that girl I wasn't your girlfriend?”

“We weren't. We had just broken up.”

“But that's not how everyone took it. You hung me out to dry!”

“That wasn't my intention.”

Her defensive attitude just makes me madder. “You never checked on me!” I said, my voice getting louder than it honestly should.

“I thought you would need space.”

“I didn't want to date anymore, but that doesn't mean I never wanted to speak to you again!”

“You were free to reach out to me.”

“God damn it, Ruth!” I snap. “I wasn't going to do that when I thought you had turned your back on me!”

“Well... I should’ve made myself more clear then.”

I take a deep breath, and look at her face. A downcast expression is just now starting to form on her. Even though it seems like she actually just didn’t know, I can’t help but to remain a little mad at her.

“Ruth, I'm not rich or pretty or smart or talented at anything,” I say after a moment. “I don't have any worth to most people here. I don't think you understand how bad it was after we were done.”

"Anja... I'm sorry.” She tells me. After this, she suddenly gets more upset, her face scrunching up. Then, I’m slightly alarmed to see her start yanking on her hair as she begins to tear up.

“...Ruth?” I ask uncertainly.

Suddenly, from the end of the hallway, I hear Zoe’s voice call, “Hey Anja! Are you in here?”

I turn to see a sight I’d normally find amusing; Nova being dragged into the hallway by Zoe and Kat, each of whom have one of his arms.

“No, please stop. It's okay,” Nova pleads, blushing and looking highly uncomfortable.

“Can it, wuss!” Kat jeers.

“Hey Anja!” Zoe says. “I'm so glad I found you! Nova has to... tell you something. Oh... I'm sorry, is this…”

She slows to a halt and awkwardly stands there, looking back and forth between Ruth and I with great concern.

“I better take off,” Ruth says quickly. “I am sorry, Anja, and I'm going to reflect on this.”

“Uh… alright then,” I say.

“Uh, we really shouldn't be interrupting this,” Nova says. “Let’s just…”

“No it's okay, we were just done talking,” I tell him. “What's going on?”

“Uh, don't worry. You look like you're upset, so we should save it for later.”

“Don't wriggle out of this, you little worm,” Kat mocks gleefully. “Tell her!”

“Nova, I'm okay. You can talk to me,” I tell him.

Nova blushes even harder and refuses to meet my eyes, instead staring intently at his feet. “I, uh, do... sjjbsbdoabvdjchdbe”

“Use your words!” Kat says.

“Shut up, Kat. Okay…” Nova sharply inhales. “Anjadoyouwanttogooutwithme.”

I process what he said for a few seconds. Slowly, I feel a small little bubble of joy form inside me, and my mouth forms a smile. “Well, yeah. I would like that a lot.”

Nova looks dumbstruck. “Wait, really?” He suddenly turns away and puts his hands in his pockets. “I mean, not tonight. Cause you know, it's late and we're tired and…”

“How about Friday?” I suggest. “We'll celebrate being out for the break.”

He nods, his eyes wide. “Yeah, yeah. That... sounds good.”

I give him a quick hug. “Good night, Nova.”

“Uh, good night, Anja.” He’s physically shaking from nervousness, but also manages to give me a smile before I leave him to Zoe and Kat’s giggling and teasing.