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Chaz
Dee
Miguel
Becca

 Dee's Journal

 

 

Entry #20: When life closes a door, life opens a window.

 

I have been majorly bummed out ever since that stupid party. Not just bummed but really mad too. The problem is I'm not sure who I'm the maddest at. Is it Cleavon for pressuring Miguel into smoking weed? Or is it Miguel for not caring enough about me to listen to what I was saying? Or maybe I'm just pissed at myself for having the idea to go to the party in the first place! I mean, if we hadn't gone, Miguel and I would still be together right now.

Now there's just so much stuff between us that neither of us is talking to the other one. Oh why did this have to happen? I mean for the first time in my life I was actually with a guy who loved and respected me and I was happy and all and then... but wait a minute! Maybe he didn't really respect me all that much. I mean, if he had, don't you think he would have said "No" when Cleavon offered him the weed? He knew how I felt about it. It wasn't like I was keeping it a secret or anything. I think if a guy really loves and respects the girl he's with, he takes her feelings into consideration. Right?

Anyway, I'm confused and I don't want to talk to anybody about it, though Becca asked me at lunch today what was going on. She's really sweet and I know that she cares, it's just I didn't want to get into it. So I just lied and said I was getting my period and feeling kinda crampy and crappy.

After lunch I was on my way to biology when Mrs. Tarantino, the new history teacher, stopped me in the hall. She said that she had been to Mi Familia over the weekend and saw my painting on the wall. (I guess Rosa had it framed and put it in the main room!) Mrs. Tarantino said she loved the painting and was wondering if I might be interested in helping out after school at this child care place that she works at called Rainbow Center. You see, the little kids who go there are mostly the children of immigrants from El Salvadore and Guatamala, and they love to do art. Unfortunately, the woman who was teaching art there moved to another town so they need a new teacher. Would I be interested. Me? An art teacher. I wasn't sure. But Mrs. Tarantino was just talking away and she said that even though the Center couldn't pay me, it would be a good chance to practice my Spanish, do lots of art and get some community service credit (which I need to graduate). Then she asked me if I liked little kids.

I told her that I did. And that my little brother Trevor, always loved it, when I showed him how to do art stuff. (which is true.)

"So, are you interested?" Mrs. Tarantino asked.

The bell rang, so I didn't have much time to think about it, but you know, I didn't need any more time. I told her, "Yes!" Then she handed me a piece of paper with the address of the Rainbow Center written on it.

And as she hurried off to her class she said, "I'll meet you there tomorrow at 4 pm. Okay?"

"Okay! And thanks, Mrs. Tarantino!"

Students were filling the halls and it was instantly crowded and really noisy. But I just looked at the piece of paper in my hand and I felt a weird but cool kinda warmth bubbling up from inside me. "Grandma Webster," I thought. "I'm gonna be an art teacher!

 

 Dee

 


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