HOMECOMING WEEK IS LIKE BEING AT SUMMER camp. I mean apart from having classes, of course. Every day, there’s a spirit competition in the quad. Monday, all four classes gather in the quad and shout at each other; Tuesday, it’s sack races; Wednesday is tug-of-war; Thursday is races to fill buckets of water with tiny Dixie cups; Friday is the pep rally. Then on Friday night, the game, the dance, the party.
When we’re not yelling our brains out for the junior class, Reggie, Elaine, Hanh, and I spend most of our lunches planning the logistics of going to the karaoke club and then to Reggie’s cousin’s house after the dance. As usual, Hanh’s parents won’t let her go to the football game (because boys) or have Reggie pick her up at home after the game (they might go somewhere besides straight to Sharon’s house).
So Hanh proposes a plan. Reggie will go and wait at Sharon’s apartment after the game, pretending to get ready for a night in with Sharon. Hanh’s parents will drop her off there, and then Reggie and Hanh will join us at the dance.
“Don’t even say it, Reg,” says Hanh when Reggie looks doubtful. “I’m sick of you telling me I should feel guilty about going behind their backs. It’s not like I’ve ever done anything worse than they did when they were teenagers. If they can’t handle it, that’s their problem.”
So the schedule for the evening looks like this:
5:00–6:30 Football game (except for Hanh)
6:30 Reggie goes back to Sharon’s house
7:00 Hanh gets dropped off at Sharon’s house
7:30–9:30 Dance
9:30–?? Party at PopStar Karaoke Club!!!
Jimmy and his friends are planning to go to karaoke, too, so Elaine is completely out of her head with excitement. Hanh and Reggie are excited about the college guys that Janet’s sister has promised to bring in addition to the alcohol. I’m just glad to be going out with friends, and enjoying all of this secret planning we’re having to do. This is going to be so much fun.
Homecoming madness extends into the evenings. Mom lets me participate because I tell her it’s for school, and because teachers will be chaperoning everything. On Monday night, I help decorate the Junior Hall—or what would be the hall if it had a ceiling—and on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I go to Janet’s house to help work on the class float. Apparently her mom was homecoming queen at Anderson like thirty years ago, and she’s still totally into it. It’s another week where I can’t hang out with Jamie, but at least I can look forward to seeing her at the dance.
I’ve decided that short of flying to the East Coast, the best I can do to prevent Dad from cheating is to text and call him constantly, to remind him of his family. He’ll probably be suspicious, since we’ve never been very communicative. But I try to do it in moderation—a couple of texts in the afternoon to ask about a trig problem, and in the evening a photo of the sunset, maybe, or what Mom has made for dinner.
Thursday evening I text him and Mom a selfie of me at Janet’s house in front of the junior class homecoming float. “Hecka smart!” exclaims Elaine. “Build their trust—let them see that you are where you say you are.” Which is kind of ironic, considering the only reason I’m sending it is because I don’t trust Dad to be where he says he is. Elaine and Reggie take photos of each other and send them to their parents. Hanh doesn’t need to—she’s at home because her parents won’t let her go out on weeknights, even for school stuff. Then Elaine has a brainstorm. “We should do a picture inside the house and send it on Saturday night from karaoke at like, ten o’clock, and say we’re at Sharon’s house. Our parents will never know the difference—they’ll just think we took it at Sharon’s!”
“Yeah, except I won’t be wearing this butt-ugly thing to homecoming,” I say, gesturing to the grubby paint-stained T-shirt I threw on so I could help paint a giant pirate on the side of our class float.
“Borrow one of Janet’s tops. Then bring it home with you and wear it when you go to the game on Friday. That way your parents will see you looking like the picture you send them. And you can just change into your cute little halter top in the bathroom at the dance. Oooh, I am a genius sometimes!” says Elaine, holding her hand up for a high five. It does sound like a good plan. So we find Janet and she takes us to her room and pulls out a few things.
Janet has a thing for body-conscious, tight-fitting tops, and Reggie suddenly balks at taking the photo because she’s all worried that she’s too fat. “Look at these rolls!” she wails.
“You look fine. Besides, you’re not actually going to wear it to the party,” Janet reminds her.
Eventually we coax her into posing with us for a few photos in the hallway. Then we stuff our borrowed shirts into our bags and head out to put the finishing touches on the float.
The homecoming parade on Saturday afternoon is mildly disappointing. Andy Chin is homecoming king, and Jimmy and Janet are part of the court. They get all dressed up in gowns and rented tuxes and ride down Alta Loma Street on a special float for the homecoming court. Plenty of neighbors turn out to see the parade, but in the end it feels like hours of work on a float that no one saw.
The game is a close one, and even though I know nothing about football and could care even less, it’s hard not to get caught up in the excitement. The score is tied with two minutes to go, and I spend those minutes alternately clutching Elaine and Reggie until Isaia Fualema runs twenty-seven yards for a touchdown and I scream and jump up and down and pump my fist, like everyone around me. I have a brief flashback of the Beach Boys debacle at the country club with Maddie Larssen and Trish. I wish they could see me now. See? What’s more American than screaming for your team at a homecoming football game? And—I take a quick look around—probably two-thirds of the people in the stands have parents or grandparents from Asia, Central America, and the Pacific Islands. Take that, Glen Lake.
After the game, Elaine and I go to my house to eat a little dinner and shower and change before we head back for the dance. Reggie goes to her cousin Sharon’s house so that she can be there when Hanh’s parents drop her off.
“You have Sharon’s phone number, right?” I ask Mom as Elaine and I eat dinner.
“Yes.”
“I’ll text you tonight, maybe around ten o’clock, from Sharon’s house,” I say.