D A I S Y
I placed my tray of food on one of the empty tables of the cafeteria and announced at last that I had something important to tell Zoey, really important.
She opened her eyes wide, and started before I could, already excited, "You finally decided to watch â"
I knew what she was going to say before she said it, so I stopped her right away, "You know I can't do anime."
"It's not anime!" We'd had this conversation before, too many times already, but Zoey was insane, and so was I, and so things like this were meant to happen every other day. "It's its own form."
"Right, I'm still not watching it," I said, looking at the meatloaf Mrs. Abebe had put together for today's lunch. I was always on the lookout for the next big case of food poisoning, but so far nothing. I didn't think that was very on-brand for Mrs. Abebe but apparently, she didn't care for what I thought. She had told me so. Had I been hurt? Yes, very much so.
"Well, it doesn't hurt to try, does it?" Zoey said, her eyes on the meatloaf too. She looked up in prayer, as she usually did, a ritual that had been keeping cafeteria-food-induced-diarrhea at a distance, "May the force be â"
"Equal to mass times acceleration," Luke said, appearing out of nowhere with his own tray of food.
"Diarrhea it is then," I said. Luke frowned but sat down next to us all the same. I frowned too, "Who said you could sit with us?"
"Daisy, come on," Zoey said next to me. This meant, be nice. It was an unreasonable request, especially after what happened at the hospital, but I decided I would comply. I did still have something important to tell her and I wanted her in a good mood for it.
"Yeah, no one likes a Regina George," Luke said, taking a bite of his food. I wouldn't mind if he choked on it. Just a little. Just for fun.
"Well, she's a misunderstood character, so joke's on you."
"How? She's one of the biggest villains in tv history," Luke said, after swallowing that first bite. It had taken him a while to chew it, but he had managed in the end. Oh well.
"Wow, Luke, just wow!"
"What, it's true!"
"Right, as much as I would like to hear you dissect Mean Girls right now," Zoey started, stabbing her meatloaf to get our attention. She turned to me, "I believe you had something to tell me."
"Yes," I said, sitting up straight. I hadn't wanted Luke here for this, but now I had no choice. I had been sitting on it for a while. I needed to let it out. "I was thinking about joining the school's music club. What do you think?"
"Like the glee club?" Luke asked with a frown. I ignored him. I had asked Zoey, not him.
She was already smiling, "I think that's a really good idea! I mean, yes, fucking yes, please yes! When are the auditions?"
I let out a sigh of relief. I had expected her to be more possessive of me, but it turned out we actually had a very healthy thing going on here, which was refreshing, if anything.
"Right, they said I should be in the auditorium no later than three, but please don't go watch, cause I'll throw up on stage if you do."
"What? Why?"
"I don't know, I guess you're the love of my life and I'm scared of making a fool of myself in front of you."
"Sounds reasonable to me," Luke said and I sent him a look. It shouldn't sound like anything to him. He shouldn't even be here.
"Daisy," Zoey started. She still hadn't touched her food. "I obviously respect that you don't want me there and will keep my distance, but come on. I have watched you cry your eyes out at so many concerts. I have read your fanfics, the smutty ones!"
"Zoey!" I said, "I do not write smut and you know it!"
She laughed, "I know. I just wanted to put off Luke. He doesn't seem impressed, so mission failed, I guess."
He shrugged, "I think it's healthy to explore your â"
"Shut the fuck up," I said. God, I was not being nice at all, was I?
"Brutal," Zoey said, more to herself than us. "Anyway, what song are you going to sing?"
"No idea," I admitted. "I'm not even sure I'm going yet."
"Of course you're going! Have you met yourself? You're Daisy Allen, Queen of Fanfictions, Khaleesi of the Great Fandoms, Mother of Front Row Seats, The Unspoiled, Breaker of Conspiracy Theories, so on and so forth."
"Impressive," Luke said.
"Very." I smiled. She had come up with all that just now. So yes, I was very impressed.
"No, you're impressive," she corrected me. Us. I didn't know. Was Luke a person or an inconvenience? Zoey went on, "You're gonna go out there and do your very best so that we can spend the rest of our lives on tour, going from one red carpet to the other, just living the life, you know?"
"Wow!" I laughed. "Your agenda is showing, Zoey!"
"Yes. Yes, it is, and it's a great one, admit it." She smiled.
"It is."
"Right, so eat up that fucking meatloaf, and let's go!"
Luke stopped my hand when I moved for the fork, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
I opened my mouth, but he raised his arm then and called for Mrs. Abebe behind the counter a few tables away from ours, "Aida, this meatloaf is a lawsuit waiting to happen. What's happening? I was rooting for you! We all were!"
Luke was socially inept when it came to most people his age, but not elders. With elders like Mrs. Abebe, one could almost say he was charismatic. I didn't care. Ted Bundy had been charismatic too.
Still, when three p.m. came, he was still with us. Luke, not Ted. Ted was dead. We were right by the auditorium's door, and I was trying to convince myself to walk through it. Zoey and Luke were helping. Well, Zoey was.
"What's the worst that can happen?" he asked.
"Right, let's see. I can forget the lyrics. That would probably make me throw up. Sure, I didn't have lunch, not really, but I had a pretty big breakfast. So imagine I do throw up. Then let's go ahead and entertain that thought, okay? I threw up. I'm embarrassed, who wouldn't be? I want to die. I start walking off stage, but because the floor is covered in the pretty big breakfast I had this morning, I trip, and I fall. I hit my head. I die."
"I see your point," he said. "That could happen, definitely."
"You're not helping," Zoey said, pushing him away and grabbing me by my shoulders. "Look, just go out there and have fun. Who cares if you don't make it? At least you tried. I mean, of course, you're gonna make it. I've heard you sing in the shower, you're really good. I've been telling you this for years. You just never listened to me â"
"I always thought you were making fun of me," I admitted.
"Of course not," she said. "I meant it. You're good. You're really good. Now, take a deep breath and go be a superstar."
I had no time to answer. She opened the big auditorium door and pushed me inside. Hours later, I was telling her I didn't get in.
"What do you mean?!" We were on the bus home, and I had just gotten the email. I read it out loud for her.
"Dear Daisy, although there was much to admire, external circumstances have made it impossible to recruit new members for our club. We need to make sure everyone is okay with performing in front of big crowds, courtesy of a puke fiasco at the Sectionals last year, so now we require that all candidates are tested with a solo performance at a big event. Usually that event is the homecoming football game, but as you've probably heard, this year there won't be a game. As you can also probably imagine, our small funding can't risk another fiasco. We're really sorry. Keep singing. You're great."
"Well fuck them!" Zoey said, from the bottom of her lungs, and then, "It doesn't even make sense. Since when is the homecoming game not happening? Mr. Colton is a slut for our football team. He would never -"
"Dear students," I started. I had gotten this email half an hour ago but because the subject was Update on the Homecoming Football Game, I hadn't opened it. I had thought of deleting it actually. I kept reading out loud, "This will be hugely disappointing to many, which is why it is so important that I carry it through. As I'm sure at least one of you knows, my car was stolen this morning. Until it is returned, I will be putting the homecoming football game on hold. This step is necessary to combat the spread of this delinquency â"
"That is insane," Zoey said.
"He's bluffing, right?" I asked. I didn't even finish reading it. I didn't have to. Mr. Colton's mental health was deteriorating. It had been for years.
"He has to," Zoey said. "First of all, how does he know it was a student? That's speculation and usually doesn't even hold up in court. Second, why not just go to the police? What does he think he's doing? And also, can he even call off the game like that? Doesn't that mean they'll be out of the competition or whatever it is they play for?"
"I don't know anything about football," I admitted. "And I don't want to know."
"No, me neither," she said, "but this is... This is insane, right? He can't do this."
"He's a straight white man in a position of power. I think he can do anything."
"Right," Zoey said. "Fuck. Is there no other big event you can perform at?"
"No. Not really."
"Fuck."
"Yeah."
The bus stopped. Zoey got up. I was confused. This wasn't her stop.
"I have to go because that family from the other day actually liked me and have asked me to babysit for them again," she said very fast. "But I'll think about a way to fix this. You're gonna be a star, even if I have to catapult you to the fucking sky myself."
"Wait, wait, wait," I stopped her, grabbing her arm before she could move for the door. "You mean the family of our school's pseudo-psycho?"
"Yes, that one," she said, looking at my hand on her. "I really have to go."
I let go of her and she ran for the door. I screamed for her to be careful, but I didn't think she heard me.