Page 129 of Pride High 3: Yellow
“Nah, I’m good.” His eyes darted around her face. “You look nice.”
“I do?” she asked, feigning surprise.
“Yeah. You smell good too. Not like pickles at all.”
“There’s a reason I keep my feet out of jars,” she replied. “Are you ready to practice?”
He shrugged in response. “Where are we gonna do this?”
“Out back is probably best.” She led him through the house. Her dad was obsessed with lawn work, so the backyard was a perfectly even carpet of freshly mowed grass. She hoped he wouldn’t mind them stomping all over it, but they needed somewhere soft and spacious to run through the different dance routines. A boom box already waited on the patio table, loaded with a cassette of music from the play.
“This is nice,” Diego said as he walked to the middle of the yard. She watched him shut his eyes and lift his face to the sun. “They keep us in an icebox for in-school suspension.”
“Really?” she asked. “What’s it like?”
“Cold,” he said, getting on the ground and flopping onto his back. “They put you in a bunker in the basement.”
“Wow,” she said, sitting down next to him. “I didn’t realize that the school had a basement.”
“Yup. I wish they’d put us in the boiler room instead.” Diego stretched and put his hands behind his head. “And it’s so damn boring.”
“How is that different from normal school?” she joked.
“Trust me, it is. Nobody is allowed to talk for the entire day, unless you’re asking to use the john or whatever. You just sit in there with all the assignments from your classes. Time crawls by.”
“I can’t imagine. Do they let you out for lunch at least?”
“Nope. You eat at your desk. I guess you can talk then, but with a teacher listening in, not many people bother.”
“What are the other students like?”
“They’re all bad kids, like me.” Diego lifted his head and shielded his eyes. “I bet you’ve never been in trouble before, huh?”
“You say that like I’m missing out.”
“Nah.” His head plopped into one of his palms again. “It just means that you’re smarter than me. But if you wanted to get into trouble, what would you do?”
Mindy thought about it. “I’d like to toilet paper Faith Song’s house.”
Diego snorted. “Let’s go do that instead.”
“In broad daylight?”
“Good point. Hey, you’re a natural!”
She laughed. “Or maybe I would leave a flaming bag of dog poop in front of her door.”
“Why not both? How did it go with your sister anyway? Was she pissed?”
“Exceedingly,” Mindy said with a sigh. “I had to give back everything I’ve ever borrowed from her. She even came into my room to check. I got audited! And I had to promise to pay her back. I still like your idea of turning the jacket into something else, but when I do, I’m going to keep it for myself.”
“Good call,” Diego said with a yawn, but he seemed more tired than bored.
“Do you want to get started?” she asked. “Keisha said she’d come by later in the week to see how you’re doing. I can’t believe they don’t let you participate in after-school activities while you’re suspended!”
“It’s all right. Aren’t you needed in the wardrobe department?”
“No, my job is mostly done, except for alterations.” She nudged him, and in a poor imitation of Ms. Deville, she said, “Time is wasting, Mr. Gomez!”
