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I can’t believe it is only the second day of second semester, and already I am sitting here in the principal’s office. I might not have finished my homework, but I fully have a note from my stepdad. I turned it in to the administrative office first thing. It says:
Please excuse Mia for not completing her homework for Tuesday, January 20. She was crippled with jet lag, and unable to attend to her academic responsibilities last evening. She will of course make up the work tonight.
—Frank Gianini
It kind of sucks when your stepdad is also your teacher.
But why would Principal Gupta object to this? I mean, I realize it is only the second day of second semester, and already I’ve fallen behind. But I’m not that far behind.
And I haven’t even seen Lana today, so it’s not like I could have done anything to her or her personal belongings.
OH, MY GOD. It just occurred to me. What if they realize they made a mistake, putting me back in Gifted and Talented? I mean, because I have no gifts or talents? What if I was only put in there in the first place because of some computer glitch, and now they’ve corrected it, and they’re going to put me in Tech Ed or Domestic Arts, where I belong? I will have to make a spice rack!!! Or worse, a western omelet!!!
And I will never see Michael anymore! Okay, I will see him on the way to school and during lunch and after school and on weekends and holidays, but that’s it. By taking me out of Gifted and Talented class, they will be depriving me of five whole hours of Michael a week! And true, during class we don’t talk all that much, because Michael really is gifted and talented, unlike me, and needs to use that class period to hone his musical abilities instead of tutoring me, which is what he generally ends up doing thanks to my uselessness at Algebra.
But still, at least we are together .
Oh, God, this is awful! If I really do turn out to have a talent—which I doubt—WHY didn’t Lilly just tell me what it is? Then I could throw it in Principal Gupta’s face when she tries to deport me back to Tech Ed.
Wait… who does that voice belong to? The one coming from Principal Gupta’s office? It sounds kind of familiar. It sounds kind of like…
Wednesday, January 21, Grandmère’s limo
I cannot believe Grandmère just did this. I mean, what kind of person DOES this? Just yanks a teenager out of school like this?
She is supposed to be the adult. She is supposed to be setting a good example for me.
And what does she do instead?
Well, first she tells a big fat LIE, and then she removes me from school property under false pretenses.
I am telling you, if my mom or dad finds out about this, Clarisse Renaldo will be a dead woman.
And not like she didn’t practically give me a heart attack, you know. Good thing my cholesterol and everything is so low thanks to my vegetarian diet, otherwise I might have suffered a serious cardial infarction, she scared me so bad, coming out of Principal Gupta’s office like that and being all, “Well, yes, we are of course praying for his quick recovery, but you know how these things can be—”
I felt all the blood run out of my face at the sight of her. Not just because, you know, it was Grandmère, talking to Principal Gupta, of all people, but because of what she was saying.
I stood up fast, my heart pounding so hard, I thought it might go flying right out of my chest.
“What is it?” I asked, all panicky. “Is it my dad? Is the cancer back? Is that it? You can tell me, I can take it.”
I was sure, from the way Grandmère was talking to Principal Gupta, that my dad’s testicular cancer was back, and that he was going to have to go through treatment for it all over again—
“I will tell you in the car,” Grandmère said to me, stiffly. “Come along.”
“No, really,” I said, trailing after her, with Lars trailing after me. “You can tell me now. I can take it, I swear I can. Is Dad all right?”
“Don’t worry about your homework, Mia,” Principal Gupta called to us as we left her office. “You just concentrate on being there for your father.”
So it was true! Dad was sick!
“Is it the cancer again?” I asked Grandmère as we left the school and headed down to her limo, which was parked out front by the stone lion that guards the steps up to Albert Einstein High. “Do the doctors think it’s treatable? Does he need a bone marrow transplant? Because you know, we’re probably a match, on account of my having his hair. At least, what his hair must have looked like, back when he had some.”
It wasn’t until we were safely inside the limo that Grandmère gave me a very disgusted look and said, “Really, Amelia. There is nothing wrong with your father. There is, however, something wrong with that school of yours. Imagine, not allowing their pupils any sort of absences except in the case of illness. Ridiculous! Sometimes, you know, people need a day. A personal day, I think they call it. Well, today, Amelia, is your personal day.”
I blinked at her from my side of the limo. I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “You mean… Dad isn’t sick?”
