"I can't believe it! You didn't get my Taco Bell!" I rolled my eyes for what felt like the millionth time that morning. "You had one job, baby niece; one job!" "I told you already, uncle. I got you tacos, I just…. lost them." "How do you lose a bag of tacos? It's Taco Bell takeout; not an octopus." "Why would I lose an octo-… oh never mind," I set down the box full of bread and turned to face my disappointed uncle. "I promise to make sure your tacos make it home next time." "What if I'm in the mood for Ben and Jerrys?" "Then I'll get you Ben and Jerrys," a grin crossed my lips, which he mirrored. "Ok, you're back in my good books." "I was in your bad books?"
Uncle and I started preparations for opening up the shop this week. We woke up, ate a megger breakfast, and set to work setting up the shop downstairs; the living space was upstairs. After carting around ten boxes or so from a delivery truck, I went to get ready for my first day of school. "You're going where now?" Uncle hollered from behind the counter where he was organizing cooking supplies. "School! It's my first day today." "Oh right! That's a thing; you're still like a mini-human according to the government." "Minor," I came down the stairs. "I'm a minor, uncle. And only for one more year." "Whatever you say. Have a good day at hell school." "High school." "That's what I said!" Rolling my eyes, I came over to give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek.
"I'll come straight home at three. Remember, if the embassy calls, our passports and visas are in my desk drawer." "Why can't I hold onto them?!" "Because these are the replacements from the ones you lost in Spain. I'll be back." "Alright, have fun; don't break too many rules." "I won't! Love you long time!" I dashed out the front door. "Love you longer!" He called out before the door slammed shut behind me.
I'll be honest, my school was the scuzziest, most penitentiary-like institution I'd ever seen. It was a public school, which was fine; I had nothing against public schools. But the building was old and made of brick. And if you can believe it, inside were actual metal detectors. What were they searching for? Switch-blades? Judging by the way some of these "characters" looked, that actually seemed plausible.
There was no school uniform, which freaked me right the hell out. What was I supposed to wear? Was there a dress code for normal street clothes? Some girls had really short skirts on while some guys wore ripped shirts with skulls on them. Really? Who's gonna take you seriously in that? This is a school, not a teenage daycare. With a deep breath in, I climbed the steps up to the building which resembled too much like a jail in my eyes. It was full of students talking and laughing, with a lot of people's attentions glued onto their phones. Yeah, cause that's healthy. For the most part, people largely ignored me as I manoeuvred my way through the crowds, though I did get a few side-glances my way.
The principle had a nasty habit of never actually being at the school itself, so his representative was one Vice Principle Grinds. Alrighty then. Opening the door, I popped my head into the main office. The secretary looked overwork by the way she was sifting through papers and files, with a consistent stream of paper spewing out from the printer. "Yes dear?" Her attention finally turned to me.
"Uh, hi. I'm a new student here; my uncle registered me before we moved." "Moved…? Oh yes! You're the foreign girl, right! Well, welcome to Templeton High School. You'll have to fill out some forms." "Already got them," I pulled out a pile of completed paperwork from my bag. "Uh, please ignore the notes for sub ideas in the margins," my cheeks blushed a little as she scanned them over.
"Baby Zilla?" The lady read out loud. "Is that your real name?" "Ah, yes." "Oh, I'm sorry, dear! I didn't mean to…." "It's ok. I get asked that fifty times every day." Every friken' day. "Well, a Zilla girl. We've never had a relative of a rock star here before." I noticed this twinkle spark in the corner of her eyes; that happened with a lot of women when discussing my uncle. "I was a big fan of your uncle back in the day. Tell me, is Rock still single…. I mean is he healthy and well?" "Uhhhhhhhhhhh….."
"Hi uncle! I'm just calling to say that we landed safely; the trip went without a hitch." "Hey, that's great news, baby-cakes!" My uncle said in his usual loud, Rock Zilla voice over the phone. "Guess what?! We're currently in the most haunted house in Britain right now shooting a new music video! Now if only there was someone around to help me unload the equipment." "Uh, uncle; I don't think…." "Hey, there's someone! Hey mister!" "Uncle…." "Whoa, check it out Skunk! You can totally see right through this guy!... Hey, hey wait, what are you… Hey! My arm isn't supposed to bend that way! Whoa, ow! Dude, ouch! My guitar-playing hand!"
"He's uh, great," I forced a smile. "That's wonderful news! Bet he's missing you though." "Oh, he's fine. We'll see each other at Christmas and besides, he's working on a…. new music video." "Fantastic! Well, Miss Zilla, your paperwork all seems to be in order. Here's your class schedule and a list of textbooks you'll need for the year." "Thank you," I took the aforementioned material, only to find that I couldn't read my schedule at all. "Um, ma'am? Where am I supposed to go now?" "Oh why to homeroom, darling. Room 014 on the third floor."
Homeroom- what's homeroom? Is that where we're supposed to report to everyday? Seems overly complicated. I followed the signs on the walls to my directed classroom. Everyone was already seated inside making it extra awkward when I opened the door. The teacher, who was a middle-aged man, turned to me in curiosity. "Yes?" "H-hi! I'm new here; I think this is my homeroom." "New? Oh yes! You're the Zilla girl!" This set the room a buzz. How do so many people my age know who my uncle is?
The teacher, Mr. Besser, motioned for me to come in. Without a word, I showed him my timetable which I guess he could read. He gave an affirmation nod. "Right! You're in the right place, B-Baby?!" He sounded so awkward reading my name that even I cringed. Everyone in the classroom burst out laughing. "Uh, is your name really um….." "Yes, my name is Baby," I frowned slightly. Gees, twice in the span of ten minutes. "Haha, you sure you're old enough for high school, sweetheart?" One of the rougher-looking guys remarked. "She looks like a baby to me," another added. "Yeah, the hot kind."
"Alright, enough!" Mr. Besser gave the whole class one of those "looks". "Welcome to our class, Ba-… er, Ms. Zilla. We're happy to have you." "Sure we are." "Mr. Rogers!" Mr. Besser shot him a glare before clearing his throat. "Please, have a seat next to um…. Ah! Next to Ms. O'Neil over there by the window." "Thank you," I went to the desk next to this red head girl in a yellow shirt. She grinned up at me which I returned. "I'm counting on you, Ms. O'Neil, to make our new student get acquainted with the school." "Yes sir," she said and we smiled at each other again.
April O'Neil- yeah, she was pretty cool. From the start of homeroom that first day, we stuck together until the end- minus that one differing class we had. She was short, spunky but not in the over-the-top way my uncles were, and had just the right amount of sass. And also like me, she didn't have many friends at the school. "Is Rock Zilla really your uncle?" "Yeah. Somehow, I didn't inherent his musical talents." She laughed. "I surprised you know who he is, to be honest." "My dad's really into rock and roll music; he's a huge Rock Zilla fan." "I also hear that a lot," it was my turn to laugh.
"So, I don't get it. Why would someone with a family like yours come to a school like this?" April took a bite of her sandwich. "Well, I always wanted to go to public school; even just for a year or so. But I wasn't expecting…. this." "What? You mean old, broken down, paint-falling-off-the-walls?" "Haha, exactly." "Well, I guess it's not the worst high school in the world," she glanced around unsure of her own statement. "Could always be worse," I shrugged. "Ain't that the truth," she took another bite.
"What about you? What's your story?" "Me? Oh, uh… well, I've always lived here. I lost my mom when I was eight….." "Oh, I'm sorry." "Don't be," she flashed a sad little smile. "It was a long time ago. Now it's just me and my dad; I stayed with my aunt for a while last year but things are back to normal now." "Why? Did your dad leave for business or something?" "You…. could say that," her eyes scrolled down as if to be remembering something unpleasant.
I didn't say anything for a while after that; I think we were both thinking about things. But eventually I turned to her. "Hey, do you like Japanese food?" "Huh?" "Our neighbour runs this Japanese restaurant. I'd invite you for a sub but the shop's not set up just yet. But our neighbour, Mr. Murakami, is really nice; I bet he makes great food too…. minus pizza gyoza." "Murakami-san? You're neighbours with Murakami-san?" "Uh, yes? Have you been to his restaurant before?"
But April didn't answer right away; she just stared off into space. Though I could detect the faintest hint of concern in her expression. Why would she be worried? What's there to worry about? Is she afraid she'll offend me if she says he makes lousy food or something? All my thoughts ran dry when she suddenly grinned back up at me. "Yeah, I've eaten there before and makes amazing grub! You have to try this thing called "pizza gyoza"." "Yeeeeeeeeah, he brought some over on the night we moved; not my cup of tea." "Really?! But it's so yummy! I admit I was sceptical at first but when I tried it, it blew my mind." "I don't eat pizza," I replied. "You…. don't eat pizza?" Then she laughed; a sort of distorted laugh. "What planet did you come from?" And I gave her shoulder a playful shove. "Alright, no pizza gyoza. But he makes a mean ramen." "That'll work."
April and I parted ways at three. She said she had to meet some friends and I had to go home to help uncle with the shop. To my dismay but not surprise, little had been done by the time I got back. "Hello uncle," I crossed the threshold only to find him lying asleep on the counter. He immediately sprang up at the sound of my unexpected voice. "Whoa! Where am I?! What's gonna on?!" "You were asleep, uncle," I set my bag off to the side. "I was?" He scanned himself over. "So I was. And hey! What are you doing home? I thought you were going to school." "I did. It's after three." "Three AM?" "Three PM." "Oh… Then what am I doing asleep on the counter?!" "You probably nodded off when you were doing inventory or something."
Like I was the world's best mind-reader, uncle picked up the half filled in clipboard off the floor. Scanning it over, his head nodded. "Oh yeah! I forgot I was supposed to be counting and writing and stuff….." "Here," I took it from his hands and found a nearby pencil. "I'll do the inventory; you go deal with the boxes in the back." "Thanks, baby niece. By the way, how was your first day of school?" "It was good! Nothing too unusual." "Did everyone freak out that Rock Zilla is your uncle?" "No," I rolled my eyes. "Well, a few people but nothing to outrageous. I made a friend." "Oh! Is it a guy?" "Why would that matter?" I frowned. "You know what your uncle said before we moved."
"Are you sure you're alright with me going to public school? I thought you wanted me to get into an elite university." "And you will! But first, you need to experience the raw chaos that is "high school"!" My uncle said in his over-dramatic tone again. "Listen, I'll pay for any adult school you want…." "University," I corrected. "That's what I said!" Boy, did that sound familiar. "But only after you attend….. dun, dun, dun! Public school!" "But why?" "Because! These are the years which you'll blossom from a young kid to a consenting adult. And then you'll be a chick-magnet, just like your uncle! We Zilla boys have to revel in all that raw testosterone pulsing through our veins. And no, before you ask, sorry dude; I can't help you on that. We got dominant genes." "I'm a girl!" A slight pause. "Oh, well in that case, it'll give you a change to have a few flings before college."
"I'd rather not remember that conversation," I groaned inwardly. Why do all my relatives have to act so cartoonishly? It's not like this was a tv show or fanfiction or anything. "My point still stands! You're going to public school to get some guy-time." "No, I'm going to public school- for one year- so that I might expand my perspective and intellect." "See? No dude thinks that kind of talk is sexy," uncle gave me an unimpressed gaze. "Look, she is a very nice girl whom I'd like to get to know better. Which brings up my second point. Would it be ok with you if I had dinner with her at Mr. Murakami's tonight?"
"What?" Uncle scrambled, after falling off the counter, to his feet. "But I thought we were going to have Taco Bell! I found one just six miles from here." "As…. tempting as that sounds, I'd really like to have dinner with April." "Alright, but we're doing tacos tomorrow night!" He eyed me very firmly; he looked so serious that I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Deal."