Putting a Spin on Stacy's Mom

Kenma’s POV

    I can hear my heartbeat growing louder as I fiddle with my uncomfortable tie. I sit and wait in line, my name is coming up soon, I think. I swear the principal is taking forever to say these names. My eyes gaze over the dim lights of the auditorium until finally, I’m at the front of the line. As soon as the guy in front of me walks off stage, I walk on meeting my principal at the table still relatively full of diplomas. “Kozume Kenma.” His voice booms over the speakers. He goes on a little spiel about how I started the game club and yada yada. When he finally finishes speaking, I bow before taking my diploma from his hands. I loosen the tie of my uniform and sit back in my assigned seat, gazing over my diploma. Nothing special, looks just like my parent’s except I think they graduated with advanced diplomas or something?

 I pull my phone out of my pocket and start scrolling through my YouTube videos. Still not getting very many views, if they don’t start to pick up soon, my parents are definitely going to take away my computer.

    Jeeze, I gotta find some way to make money. “Dude.” I hear a whisper from behind me. I turn to be greeted by Taketora. “Put your phone away, it’s rude!”

    I roll my eyes as I shove my phone back into my pocket. I need something that pays well, but I don’t have any work experience… Maybe I can find a rich Tokyo guy who needs some help on craigslist or something. “Kozume!” I hear a whisper shout from one of my classmates. I shake my head as I get up from my seat. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t realize the line was moving already. People clap as we walk out of the auditorium. As soon as we get outside I walk over to my favorite napping area underneath the huge shady tree and take a seat in its familiar, cool shade. The flowers on it are in full bloom, it’s really pretty. I close my eyes and lean back onto the bark of the tree and listen. The gentle breeze blowing petals around. The groups of girls crying about how ‘they won’t get to see each other every day but they are so sure they’ll still be friends.’ Parents congratulating their students. Boys yelling about how they can finally get out of their mom’s houses. As I hear the sound of footsteps approaching, I begrudgingly open my eyes.

    “Kenma. Let’s go.” My mother says. She's mad about something, probably the fact that I never dyed my hair back like she wanted me to. She doesn’t want me standing out or looking like a slacker in front of all the other parents. I never got it cut how she wanted it either. Or maybe it’s because my shirt has the top button unbuttoned, or maybe it’s because I didn’t graduate with an advanced high school diploma. Or maybe it’s because I didn’t get into that college she wanted me to attend, just some ‘lousy’ one. Oh well, I won’t have to wonder much longer because I’m sure she’ll give me an earful as my dad sits idly by, not saying a word. That’s how it always goes. I hold my diploma in my armpit as my mother drags me by the arm towards our parked car. I pull out my phone in my free hand and pull open craigslist. I’ll just find something on there, surely there’s a rich Tokyo man willing to give a kid a few bucks.

    I stash my phone back into my pocket as I get in the backseat of our car. Mother takes off her face mask before starting the lecture, “I can not believe you! Are you trying to embarrass me?! You are, aren't you!? Trying to embarrass your own mother! What a failure of a son, you must not have studied like your father and I have told you thousands of times! Not even an advanced diploma!? It’s no wonder you didn’t get into that college! I don’t even know why you bothered applying if you knew you weren’t going to try at all! Look at Taketora, he even got an advanced diploma and you didn’t care! You don’t even make any money, doing your so-called streaming! Are you sure people even want to watch you!?”

    I take a deep breath. Stay calm, if I yell now, there is no way I’m keeping my setup. “No, mom. I’m sorry.” I  try to make my best, ‘I’m sorry’ face. Dad drives on, not turning around to say anything. I fasten my seatbelt. “I promise that I’ll get a real job by the end of the month.”