CHAPTER 7
“Prom should be romantic,” Troy said for what must have been the…
Silvia did a quick count. The fifth time. As irritating as his behavior was, at least it made taking minutes during the Student Government meeting easier, since she only had to draw ditto marks to signify the repetition.
“I agree,” Jenny Keats said with a weary sigh. She was student council president, now that Cameron had officially stepped down. “But I don’t see why it can’t be educational too. Stars are romantic. Constellations are made of stars. Throw in some celestial bodies and—”
“Prom should be romantic,” Troy replied, clearly not moved. If he was listening at all.
An unfortunate domino effect of Cameron abdicating his position was that Troy became the new vice president via the line of succession.
Which didn’t exactly grant him any powers, but did inflate his ego enough to make him a thorn in the side of anyone who disagreed.
His simplistic messaging was despairingly effective.
People actually had to think about what Jenny said.
Troy’s followers—which he certainly had—only needed to parrot the rhetoric he spewed, which was often so devoid of logic that it was impossible to argue against.
“What’s your idea then?” Jenny asked in exasperation.
Troy looked to his girlfriend.
“A beautiful garden filled with flowers,” Faith stated.
Jenny nodded once. “Fine. We’ll make horticulture the theme.
I’m sure the FFA kids can provide a display of live specimens.
The meanings of the Latin names would also be interesting.
We can even tie in geography. Imagine if the punch bowl area resembled an English garden and the photo staging area involved Dutch tulips with Amsterdam as the backdrop. ”
Faith let out a disgusted sigh.
Troy shook his head. “Prom should be romantic.”
“Okay!” LaVern said from the front of the room where she silently observed. Usually. Even she sounded as though she would snap if Troy continued repeating himself. “Let’s reconvene next week for a vote. In the meantime, I want well-thought-out plans. Good job, everyone. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Silvia took her time packing her bookbag, despite needing to get to work. She’d done the same thing each day since telling LaVern about her goal to become a lawyer. The vice principal had promised to help her, but so far, hadn’t offered any real guidance. Today was finally different.
“Just a moment,” LaVern said, beckoning Silvia over to her desk. “I have a schedule change that needs your approval.”
“My approval?”
LaVern nodded. “If you’re willing. The choice is yours. I’d like to switch your typing elective to Business Law.”
“Business Law?” Silvia repeated.
“Please stop doing that,” LaVern said. “Between you and Troy, I’m starting to think there’s an echo in this room.”
Silvia laughed self-consciously. “I’m confused. I already took a business class last year.”
“Personal Finance,” LaVern said, checking an open folder. “You aced it. This is a natural follow-up.”
“But I don’t want to represent corporations. I want my legal focus to be on immigration law.”
“We don’t offer such a class, unfortunately, but Business Law will teach you about contracts, court structure, and the difference between civil and criminal procedures.
The consumer rights section might not be very useful to you in the future, but at least you’ll be exposing yourself to law office terminology. ”
“Oh! I’d have to give up my typing elective?”
“Yes. Is it so important to you?”
Silvia nodded but didn’t elaborate. Typing skills were part of The Plan, as she was coming to think of it, in capital letters.
Which could give her the upper hand in achieving her dream, or an alternative trajectory if that proved unachievable.
Being a secretary at a law firm would be better than nothing at all.
At least then, she might still be able to do some good.
“Once you’ve gotten down the basics of typing,” LaVern said, “which I’m sure you have, it’s simply a matter of practice.
I’ll get the laptop I promised last semester so you can hone your skills while here.
Now then, what I’m asking of you is more than simply switching electives midstream.
You’ll need to catch up with a month’s worth of curriculum. ”
She took a thick book out of a drawer and set it before her.
Silvia barely glanced at it. “I can handle that.” She chewed her bottom lip before forcing herself to ask an uncomfortable question. “I’m assuming that law school isn’t cheap.”
“That depends on a number of factors,” LaVern replied. “In-state tuition is certainly more affordable.”
Silvia squirmed. “How much would that be?”
She had some money set aside, but that was for when she was old enough to petition for legal status on her parents’ behalf.
LaVern studied her a moment. “Don’t let price of admission concern you.
If you keep your grades up and play your cards right, a full scholarship is well within the realm of possibility.
Universities like to see a vested interest. Immigration is your why, but Business Law is the beginning of your how.
” She held up a hand, staving off a reply.
“You’ll have to work for it. There is no easy path ahead of you.
Ask yourself now if you can handle that or not. ”
Her job at the record store wasn’t so demanding. Silvia often used that time to study. If that wasn’t enough, she could stay up an hour later. Once she got caught up with the rest of the Business Law class, the pressure wouldn’t be as intense.
“I can handle it,” she said.
LaVern considered her evenly. “Even if it means making sacrifices?”
That gave her pause. Sharon Weintraub, the attorney who had helped her family, had said something similar, implying that it was possible to sacrifice too much at her age. And yet, Silvia couldn’t imagine living with herself if she backed away from this challenge. So she squared her jaw and nodded.
“Just show me where to sign!”
— — —
Diego kept his focus on the far end of the hall as he walked Anthony to class, tempted to invest in a pair of headphones so he could avoid their awkward conversations.
Ever since he’d reconciled with Omar, an air of expectation surrounded Anthony, as if he’d be next.
Even worse, he kept mentioning plans, followed by a leading question that was never quite an invitation.
“Cameron and I are going bowling on Saturday. Does that sound fun to you?” or “Omar is staying at my house tonight. We’re going to watch some movies. There’s plenty of room ever since my brothers moved out.”
Then he’d look at Diego with big green eyes, like he was doing now.
“My birthday is coming up,” Anthony said.
“Don’t expect me to get you anything,” Diego grumbled.
“No, of course not, but… I’m having a party.”
“And you want me to buy you beer.”
Anthony shook his head. “No, but I thought… Everyone else will be there.”
“And?” Diego challenged, irritated by the way he kept pussyfooting around.
“It would be nice if you were there too.” Anthony hesitated. Then he shrugged. “I’d like it.”
Ugh. The worst thing is that part of Diego wanted to go.
They ran with the same pack. He and Omar were buds again.
Ricky would be there. Mindy too. Cameron was his best friend and Anthony’s boyfriend.
Being around each other was inevitable, not just during these little walks, but outside of school as well.
As much as Diego prided himself on holding a grudge, this one had reached a point where the effort didn’t seem worth it anymore.
“My parents won’t be there,” Anthony said, sweetening the deal. “I made them promise not to come home until… Uh…”
Something had caught his eye. Diego followed his gaze and saw Troy moving in their direction. That was unusual. Graham and Jerome passed them every day but not their ringleader. Diego tensed when it became clear they were his intended target.
“Hey, man,” Troy said with an upward nod. “What’s up?” His attention flicked to Anthony and away again.
“You tell me,” Diego replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he came to a stop.
“I had a quick question. About my airbag.” Troy’s focus remained on him alone. He didn’t sneer at Anthony or narrow his eyes in the slightest. That was good, since it meant he was keeping his side of the bargain.
“You don’t have an airbag.”
“Exactly. I can’t remember why you didn’t replace it. I was too hyped about getting my car back.”
Anthony went rigid.
Diego ignored him. “Because it would’ve cost two and a half grand plus labor. I didn’t think you’d have that in cash, and your parents might’ve noticed if you wrote a check that big.”
“Good call,” Troy said with a nod. “Do you think it’s actually important? My girlfriend acted all concerned when she found out.”
Diego imagined Troy’s head splattering against the windshield. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Cool,” Troy said. “Here’s the thing. My bitch grandmother might keel over soon. If she leaves me some money…”
Diego simply stared in response. He wasn’t about to finish the dickwad’s sentences for him.
“Can I bring her in?” Troy said at last.
“Your grandma?” Diego deadpanned.
Troy laughed, like they were having a grand ol’ time.
“Call the shop and make an appointment,” Diego said, wanting to end the conversation.
“Cool.” Troy noticed Graham and the others coming down the hall. “See ya.”
“Don’t count on it,” Diego growled under his breath. He’d make sure not to be there when the car was dropped off.
They resumed walking. Anthony kept pace on stiff legs. Diego started a mental countdown. It didn’t last long.
“What was that?” Anthony asked in a clipped tone.
“None of your business.”
“You fixed his car for him?”
“Here we go!” he replied with an eyeroll.
“Why would you do that?”
Diego shot him a glare. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Obviously not!” Anthony said, laughing without humor. “I mean, Troy is only the guy who is despised by all of your friends. And for good reason! Why wouldn’t you help him?”
Diego shook his head. “You’ve always been a sanctimonious asshole. You know that?”
“Yeah? Well that’s better than being—” Anthony’s jaw snapped shut.
“What?” Diego rounded on him. “Were you about to call me a traitor? That would be rich, coming from you!”
Anthony wilted under his glare. “Sorry.”
“Uh huh.”
Diego resumed the march, knowing that wouldn’t be the end of the conversation.
“I just don’t understand,” Anthony said a few paces later. “Why him of all people? Did you need the money?”
“Some of us gotta earn a living.”
That wasn’t the only reason, of course, but he wasn’t about to explain the deal he’d made with Troy.
Anthony would find a way of judging him for it, even though he benefitted the most. Or he’d take it as a sign that they were friends again, when Diego had just been reminded of why that would never happen.
In fact, he was done with this whole charade!
“I’m not walking you to class anymore.”
Anthony looked as though he’d been slapped. Which was pretty damn satisfying to see, even if he did recover quickly.
“Oh. Okay.”
Diego kept his jaw clenched, but it didn’t work, because he was compelled to add, “Troy and his friends won’t mess with you again.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I know they won’t.”
“Because you’re buddies with them now?”
Diego stopped in his tracks. “You really don’t know when to shut your stupid hole! How the hell does Huxley put up with you?”
Anthony winced, but not—as it turned out—because of the insult. “If Cameron tries walking me to this class like he did before… He won’t make it to his own on time. He’ll get in trouble again. Neither one of us wants that. Right?”
Diego leaned close. “Then we’ll make this our little secret. Agreed?”
Anthony seemed uncertain. After a swallow, he nodded.
“Good.” Diego turned and walked away. If anyone messed with Anthony, he’d hear about it and make them pay. For now, he couldn’t get far enough away from his former friend.