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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 Familianbsp;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 4pm.
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!
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