Daya

22| The list

To make up for Thursday my dad drops us off a good 15 minutes before the bell. I also ditched the baby blue sweatshirt for my overalls and a white short sleeve. I thank my bowl of Quaker Oats for the rest of the day going as smooth as possible. That is until my oatmeal is fully digested and I can no longer avoid Ziyah because it's 5th period.

Madame is in a better mood so our chit chatting is not a big problem, but she does change our seating arrangement even though we will be on thanksgiving break soon. Ziyah and I aren't too far apart, and he's just in the next row over surrounded by all the boys in the class that he talks to. The real issue with the new seating chart is that Unna and Fernando are sandwiching me. They both have no intention of learning anything and Unna  constantly turns around to talk to him as if she doesn't see me sitting here.

Harper is still on the other side of the classroom and right next to Lindsey who probably wants to know all about the things that are none of her business. Between their conversations and Unna's I feel in the middle of so many inside jokes.

I don't know how Madame thought this arrangement would get the class to stop talking because I seem to be the only one with no one to chat with. It's just my own anxiety but I feel like everyone in the class is laughing at me, with the exception of Ziyah who gives me little looks throughout the period.

Finally after Unna and Fernando go to wait by the door and the bell rings and I burst out of my seat. Ziyah goes to the other door in the classroom so I can't catch up to him. Instead on my way to my 6th period Unna and Fernando stop me when I'm not too far from the tennis courts.

"Daya," Unna calls out and I stop in front of them. I have a feeling this is about all of the gossip she revealed and she will now be handing me an NDA.

"Yea?"

"Can we ask you something?" Looking back at my last conversation with Unna then I can assume it has something to do with my "love," life. Surely it's probably not a question but a statement. "You want to be your best self right?" I do a little nod and shrug combination. This is sure going to go somewhere terrible.

"And you want to have someone like Vicki and Vince," Fernando interjects.

"Umm I guess." Really I would rather someone help me start my career in screenwriting.

"Then you need to step it up," Fernando says loudly.

"Yes like 10 trillion times. First girl you need to shave those arms. I don't know why Vicki didn't tell you that." Really my hairs aren't that dark so I really never felt the need, plus it's not like I don't shave my legs.

It's not just my arms which I crossover my chest, Unna and Fernando go on to list a bunch of little things that are wrong with me. Lucky for me it isn't too long, but Fernando still feels the need to take out a piece of paper and jot down what's said.

"Remember we're just doing this to help you sweetie," Unna reminds me. This and her semi condescending tone blur the lines between trying to help a lost soul and her just wanting to throw a subtle insult. They give waves and strut to the gym and I just stand in the same place letting my anger build up.

Instead of walking to the tennis courts where nobody would be because the girls on the team have a banquet I stomp towards the direction of my locker. One because I don't want to go over to Sienna and the girls and have them tell me how to dress, two because I'm about to cry and I don't want to risk Vince seeing me cry.

I get to my locker and of course because my locker is next to the fucking boys bathroom Vince is right by it talking to Darian. He immediately sees my eyes that are just starting to water and leaves Darian's side and meets me right in front of my locker.

He puts his hands on my shoulder and takes a closer look at my eyes, "Daya what's wrong?" I try to turn away, but like Kayla last night his eyes are glued on me.

"Nothing," I stammer, but tears begin to fall down my cheeks. Vince pushes me into his chest and wraps his arms around me, making the list in my hand crumble between us. I resist at first, but eventually let all my tears spill onto his practice tee.

"Did Ziyah do this?" Still with wet eyes I move from Vince's grasp and wipe my face.

"No it was this girl and guy." I would say names, but I know in a quick second he could tell Jada and I don't want to see that confrontation.

Before I can explain and pass him the paper one of his other teammates comes from down the hall.

"Vince coach needs us," he yells.

"In a second," Vince tells back.

"He needs you now."

"Go I'm find we'll talk about it later," I say as my tears stop.

He looks me over and brings me into another hug, and just as we separate I see Ziyah making his way down the hall with a phone and hall pass. I try not to, but when he gets close enough I eventually make eye contact with him and so does Vince. Like Vince the first thing he sees about me is my hurt expression.

Vince looks from me to him and goes with his teammate not before giving Ziyah one strict mean mug.

"Are you ok?" Ziyah asks and gets closer to me. He stops me before I can lie, and takes the mildly crumbled paper out of my hand. He scans it and him seeing all of my flaws on a paper makes me cry more.

"Come here," he says lightly and holds out his hand, but I don't want to be that damsel in distress so I just shake my head. He seems genuine so I place my hand in his and let him guide me down the hallway to where, I don't know.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"To my class to get my shit so I can cheer you up." It's my job to make myself happy though. He looks down at me into my eyes just how he did at the movie.

"But you have to go to class." He knows I'm in 6th period p.e., but I know for a fact he's not.

"I have a substitute, Mr.Bailey so it doesn't matter." A little happiness comes back to me, because
Mr.Bailey is notorious for being the substitute who plays his flute and lets kids do whatever they want.
We get to his class and I wait outside and casually take an overview of the people in his class who all on their phones. Mr.Bailey is so into his flute playing he doesn't even notice Ziyah as he gets his backpack and heads out of the door.

He still holds the paper and this time he looks more into it as we walk. "What is it?" He asks.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, but like In 5 minutes I will." I don't want to talk about it period, but Kayla's voice pops up in my head.

"Ok."

"Where are we going now?" I ask as we pass my locker.

"To the park."

"But school hasn't ended yet."

"So," he shrugs.