Taylor

After that bizarre tutor session yesterday, I impatiently wait for lunchtime to impart Caya with all my woes. Before I can get a word in, however, Caya slaps her lunch tray on the table and a flyer in front of me.

“Did you see this?” 

I briefly look at the flyer. It advertises the organisation committee for the school’s annual fundraiser. “Of course.”

Caya falls on the chair across and stares at me. “You don’t seem very enthusiastic, considering you wanted to try for the position.”

“Correction,” I say and put down my fork, “My mom wants me to apply.”

Caya’s expression lights up in understanding. “Oh. Is this about Noah Bricks again?”

I sigh, “Yeah, it’s about Noah Bricks again. Since he did it, I have to do it too. Just yesterday, I had the joy of taking a tutor session with him. So, I’m sorry if I’m not very enthusiastic about this.” I tap my finger on the flyer.

“Not a good session, then?”

The tapping of my finger increases in speed. “The language part was horrible, no question.”

“But …?”

“I can’t say it was good, but I also can’t say it was bad. He’s changed. Or maybe I changed. Or we both did. Anyways, he’s somehow less …keyed up.”

“Yeah, I saw that he grew his hair out when he was standing at the gate last time.”

I scoff, but Caya raises her hand. “Length of hair is a measure unit for a man’s chillness. I will die on this hill, don’t make me kill you on it, too.”

“Well, at least for Noah it seems to be true,” I concede with an eyeroll. “To be honest, I don’t know where to put all my resentment when he is this friendly.”

“Well,” Caya pulls the flyer away from underneath my tapping finger and takes another look at it. “Might I suggest you put all that energy into this instead? I really think you should apply,” she adds when I open my mouth to protest. “Don’t you want to step up as organizer? You thrive in positions like these. And I’m sure somewhere in that scatterbrain of yours is already an event idea you could use for the application.”

Caya challenges me with a stare, and it takes no less than 10 seconds of staring contest, until I give in. “Yeah, okay. I do have an idea. BUT-” I add, before Caya can voice the smug thoughts written on her face, “I don’t think I have time for it. I mean, it’s the last year, there are a lot of exams we will have to prepare for, and a lot of assignments to work on to keep our grades up. You know I’m taking a few more AP courses than most, and in addition, I now have to catch up with German as well.”

Caya raises an eyebrow. “Please. You are in first place in all your courses. Well, except for art.”

I wince, but she continues heartlessly, “You already know German and just have to practice a little, and it’s not like you would have to do all of the work for the fundraiser. There is a committee for a reason. And you will have me.”

“Well, now I can’t say anything,” I protest halfheartedly. Caya’s mouth widens into a grin, and I let my head hang low with a deep sigh. Finally, I look up, lean back, take my fork, and shrug. “Okay. I’m applying.”

“Yes!” Caya triumphantly fist-bumps. “Then I will apply for the position of aesthetics manager.”

“There is no such position, last time I checked,” I laugh, but Caya waves me off. 

“There will be, once I apply.”

“No doubt.”

“Now, spit out your fundraiser idea.”

To become the organiser of the fundraiser, you have to compete with other students by preparing an event idea, a step-by-step plan, and presenting the organisation you want the donations to go to. Noah won this position two times in a row. I hate that my idea is based on one of his fundraisers, but it’s too good not to use it. 

“You know how Noah held a fundraiser for the LGBT Youth Center two years ago?” I ask Caya.
She pulls a face, “You aren’t going to copy Noah, are you?”
“No, actually, I was just thinking of a way to give you your aesthetics manager role after all.”

Caya leans forward, “I’m listening.”