I stood up and read from my paper. "My name is Abidemi Sabrina Folami Dias--"
"I love your name!" Nina said.
"Right back at ya. Your girl is 16-years old, a junior, and I'm...if we're gonna be technical...50% Yoruba Nigerian, 25% Taíno, 25% Jamaican...diaspora pride."
"Anyhoo, I like playing the guitar, doing hair tutorials, and going to poetry slams. After college, I want to be a guitarist and go to Juilliard. I'm in this club so I could, along with everybody else, battle racism."
Everyone applauded me. That wasn't expected. I sat back down and Tausa'afia cleared her throat. "In three weeks, we're having a bake sale to support Syrian refugees. I'm bringing cupcakes, Kiwidinok is bringing cookies...we need cake, muffins, and brownies."
"How about Chef Lukas makes them all?" Fatima suggested. Lukas rolled his eyes and groaned. "Fine but you guys have to help me. How many should we make, Tausa'afia?"
"We want to raise at least $500. Other schools are doing it, too. How's...four cakes...eighty muffins...a hundred brownies...seventy-five cookies...and ninety cupcakes?"
"I-I don't have a bakery, you know."
Tausa'afia chuckled and shook her head. "No, silly, the school is gonna let us make it in the kitchen. Plus, we get service hours. You get to help refugees AND graduate. How's Thursday two weeks from now?"
We all scheduled to make a lot of food the Thursday two weeks from now. Man, this won't be a piece of cake. No pun intended.
YOU ARE READING
Abi
Teen FictionTW: Bullying, addiction, abuse, depression, anxiety, racism and homophobia are mentioned in this story. Abi, the new girl from Manhattan, has arrived to Stony Brook, Upstate NY. She befriends Fatima (who lost weight over the summer and has been c...
