Forget Green Gables

What the Hell, Universe?

Finals day two begins badly. A power surge somewhere down the line knocks out power at both our house and Jamie's, so no one is even awake until seven. Wokie begins barking at the top of his lungs to be let out. The first one up is Felix, who cusses up a storm as he lets the dog out and pounds on my door. "Call Jamie and make sure she's up!" he says, locating his backpack. "We've got fifteen minutes until we're supposed to be at school!"

My phone call wakes up the Ashburn house. Greg promises to be here in eight minutes and to call the school so we will not be punished for being late. There is no time to shower, so I throw my hair into a bun after brushing dry shampoo through it, wash my face quickly with a washrag, and grab a pair of jeans, a Michigan State hoodie, and the cowboy boots I bought on our last trip to the Oklahoma Panhandle. I do not often wear them because my peers make fun of them and called me a stupid hick, but today they are faster than lacing up sneakers.

Felix toasts two bagels, his own smothered in cream cheese, mine dripping with melting peanut butter. I thank my brother and pile into the Ashburn vehicle, asking Jamie if I look okay.
"It's finals. Don't worry about how you look."
That is easy for Jamie to say; she looks as she always does, in carpenter pants, a white tee, a sweater vest, her curly brown hair back in a low ponytail, adorable and sporty. Jamie does not require an act of Congress to get her hair to cooperate.

"What do you have today?" Felix asks Jamie.
"Integrated II and Physical Science."

"Sis?"

"Spanish II and Integrated I."

Felix grins. "Gym and choir."

I throw the wadded up napkin from my bagel at him. "I hate you. Of all the nights for the power to go out."

After making a mad dash in the front door, I call good luck to Felix and Jamie before darting for my first class. Normally, Danny and I sit together at a table in the front-middle of the room. For the final, Danny is in the back corner. I dart into the room seconds ahead of the tardy bell and fall into my seat, dropping my backpack on the floor and putting my coat on the back of the chair.

"Bienvenido, Catalina," Maestra greets me. "Tarde en el día del examen?" Welcome Catalina. Late on the day of the exam?

"Pero, no era tarde," I reply. But, I was not late.

'Primera Parte: conjugar los verbos en el tiempo pasado.' "Part one: conjugate the verbs to the past tense," I whisper. I know this. The feelings of being gross, greasy, and stinky that have plagued me since I left the house that morning are forgotten as I take pencil to paper and conjugate verbs to my heart's content.