I'm sitting at a table in a chair that's too small for me with 7 little kids who are coloring while looking dragged from being kids all day. Ponytails are loose, shirts have many stains, and all the wet thumbs their parents pressed onto their faces have gone down the drain. Me on the other hand I look great with my Nina Simone shirt and wide legged pants that fall right on top of my doc Martens.
This is really the only time I look better than everyone in the room, when I'm watching kids at the marina elementary school, it's a service hour opportunity that I started last year. I probably have completed all my hours, but I don't care I like being here with people who can't find dirty meanings in all of my words. Plus there is only 7 of them.Sascha F, the Rodridge twins Bella and Beatrice, Katherine, Sofia, David, and Sascha P my favorite because she has the same last name as me and she could be my little sister with her glasses and braids.
Really sadly this as social as I get next to talking to Harper, really most of my time is spent writing mediocre screenplays and shooting mini movies. These movies are of course done on my phone without dialogue and with a cute song in the background. Mostly they're just little shots of pink sunsets and cute actions that people don't see me taking, They're small, but I'm sure as hell proud of them.
"Daya are you grown up?" Sascha F asks as she colors outside the lines of her butterfly.
"Somewhat," I answer trying to sit comfortably in this damn chair.
"Yes she's grown up look at those!" Sofia points right to my chest. I guess my mom is right when she somehow sees through my shirt that I'm wearing a sports bra, and tells me, "the girls would look so much better in an actual bra."
"My mommy has bigger ones!" David brags proudly. Poor guy doesn't know his mom's may have a percentage of silicone in them.
"So does mine," Sofia giggles.
"My daddy has the same size ones," Beatrice says to loudly attracting the attention of my "boss" Astrid who sits at her front desk. She wipes her long black ponytail at us then goes back to organizing sign out sheets. Astrid literally just got into college, but she acts like she's 20 year older than her pale powdered face represents. To make it worse the girl doesn't even like kids, which is weird because she's too young to be that bitter old lady.
"Ok let's talk about something else," I advise. If Astrid wasn't sitting there I would love to talk about how Mr.Rodridge has bigger boobs than most girls in my grade.
"Let's talk about love," Katherine mutters barely beating the sound of markers rubbing on papers.
With long brown hair that always has a matching headband at the top along with dresses similar to american dolls, Katherine is the quiet one of the group reminding me of myself at her age. Being someone who hates being called on, I don't force her to speak unlike Sofia. Aside from Katherine's teddy bear Sugar Sofia is her best friend who has the complete opposite personality. Even though Sofia is usually dressed in shorts or overalls and always has an opinion the two always form an alliance against the other kids.
"Love is weird and gross," David squirms around in his chair. Gosh these kids are so innocent. Dani was like this 2 years ago, but her innocence is quickly running out as my mom continues to let her watch Friends. I however put all of my innocence on a platter along with a contract saying I'll never get it back when Harper invited me to watch Sex and the City. Those moments of Samantha's hookups really ripped the girl who used to watch Hannah Montana right out of me.
"My dad says love is a drug," Sacha F cheers up, as she finishes her butterfly which is all pink.
"Love can be many things," I clarify. Not that I give a shit about love well really romantic love, I just can't tell them some people don't find it now matter how thick their glasses are.
"My mommy loves my daddy who's her boyfriend!" Sofia giggles and pushes some of her golden brown curls behind her ear.
"You mean husband?" David corrects the girl whose parents just graduated college while his mom and dad are the perfect representation of a business men and stay at home mom. Sofia looks taken back a bit with her scrunched face, but she shrugs the confusion off and takes one of Bella's markers.
Bella doesn't care and instead adds to the conversation by mumbling, "Boyfriends are better than husbands." The girl who once told me she wanted to be like Rapunzel when she grows up is right.
If I were to choose between a boyfriend and a husband I would choose the one who can't take half of my belongings, last name, and the one who won't spend the time in the relationship adding up all my bad qualities. The last one can qualify for both, if being boyfriend and girlfriend lasts for a good amount of time.
"Daya do you have a boyfriend?" Sascha P looks up at me like she wants to know if Santa exists.
"No she doesn't," Sofia answers for me. I always forget she has a relative in the high school, this is obviously where she gets her information about me from. She never tells me who they are, but apparently they know I'm as single as housewives at a country club when the pool boy is around. I can hear Astrid's vindictive chuckling, but I don't see her with a hot man or woman on her arms, so she should just go back to organizing worksheets she's going to make me give to the kids next week.
"I do not have a boyfriend," I confirm.
"Why?" Sascha P and the twins ask in unison. All the kids are looking at me awaiting an answer, except for Katherine who is focusing on her coloring even though she is the one who started this fire. Really now would be the time for her to lightly whisper another topic for us to speak about.
"I just don't," I trail off. I honestly love how they look at me and automatically assume I'm not the people watching shy girl I am and think I can get a boy to want to claim me. That's what I love about kids they live by the mantra anything is possible.
Mr.Rodridge shakes the small bungalow were in as he walks sideways into the door, saving me from explaining the social dynamics of my high school and why no boys like my big forehead and lack of glow that Laia and Vicki have.
"Daddy!" the twins shout clutching their butterflies and running to hug his huge stomach. Without saying goodbye to the twins who are getting their hello kitty backpacks out of the cubbies, the rest of the kids take all of their markers.
For the next 2 hours nothing really happens except me getting up and having the chair stick to my butt, which makes everyone including Astrid burst into laughter. Because starting off my day with my fly down wasn't enough for my friday.
Now all the kids have gone home except Sascha P who is playing color switch on my phone speeding through levels I don't care enough to beat. She thinks I only let her go on it, but really every kid who's the last one here and making me and Astrid stay longer gets to run down my battery. Really Sasha P and Sofia are the only ones who parents come later than 6, which reminds me of waiting for my mother in elementary school as the counselors made me call her several times. I never made it to the fire station, but Vince and I have sat outside of a school with an annoyed counselor who wanted to get home to their own kids.
"Daya?" Sascha asks as I clean up the tables without any help of Astrid. I go to my backpack and pull out my charger from my backpack knowing is exactly what she's going to say.
"Thank you," She smiles and plugs in my phone to the outlet right next to me. Finishing cleaning I sit next to her as she aggressively pats my screen, I'm now kind of wishing I had my phone to annotate on genius or see if Vince's game started. Reading my mind Sascha puts down my phone and looks up at me with her brown eyes that are full of questions.
"Daya?" she says just like before. I can see curiosity about the world even through her lenses that are as dirty as mine.
"Yes Sascha."
"You know why are last names are Price?" A big smile runs across her face and transfers onto to mine.
"Umm because our dad's last name are-" her soft little voice interrupts me.
"No its because were worth something!" She snaps her fingers which makes me feel a little inferior, because I still haven't mastered the art.
"I guess so," I laugh. 15 years of my life and a 7 year old is the first to connect my last name to the reason I should have some self worth, now that is something.
"No you know so!" The confidence in her voice doesn't transfer over to me like her smile did, but I make my smile bigger so my lack of self worth does not transfer over to her. That would be my worst fear for her to realize that there is a difference between girls like us and girls who have long blonde hair like the twins.