Page 11 of The Bad Boyfriend Curse
As I climb up the stairs to my room, thinking about their conversation, a pang hits my heart.
Did Mom really just call her own daughter anasset?
I flop onto my bed and open a video call with Keeley and Adanna. I need my two best friends to process that whole conversation.
They’re both in the same place: Keeley’s dad’s vet clinic, where I also worked part-time until I came here. Keeley’s working at the front desk, and Adanna is hanging out with her because Dr. Tan is very cool about us chilling behind the desk while one of us is working.
Keeley is my oldest friend. We met in junior kindergarten when we were four. She’s Chinese and white, and is a piano prodigy who actually travels the world to perform in big concert halls. Adanna is a newer friend; Keeley and I met her in grade nine when we started at the arts school. Adanna is Nigerian Canadian and is easily the best illustrator in our school—and the sweetest person. It makes sense that she wants to be an art therapist.
After I tell them everything about my first day at CROP and about hanging out with Sadie and her friends at The Brewberry Café, I tell them what I overheard Mom and Jason saying.
“Wow,” Adanna says. “Your stepfather is going to be themayorof Cherrybridge?” She pauses, then laughs. “That doesn’t sound like a real place. It sounds like ‘mayor of Busytown.’?”
“Oh, Cherrybridge is a real place all right. And he’s not mayor yet; he’s justrunningfor mayor.”
“Yeah, but he’s, like, from the most important family in town,” Keeley says. She did a whole bunch of research on Jason and the LeClairs when Mom started dating him, calling it a fairy-tale romance, despite my lukewarm feelings about it. “He’ll win.”
“Not if his delinquent new stepdaughter ends up being a liability instead of an asset to his campaign,” I mumble bitterly.
“No,” Adanna says emphatically. “You’re not a delinquent, Meera. And you’re not a liability, either. You’re hisfamily now. Except, unlike most family, he chose you.”
“Hechose Mom… I just came with the deal.” I sigh. Months ago my only worry was whether I’d get the best math teacher for calculus next year, and now I’m worried about whether my criminal record will get in the way of my stepfather’s mayoral campaign. “If he thought I was going to be such a problem, then he should have insisted Mom let me stay in Toronto with Nani and Nanabapa. Then everyone would be happy. Me and Jason.”
“Not your mother,” Adanna says.
I exhale. That’s the part I don’t get. Mom and I have never been close. Why does she care if I’m here or in Toronto?
“I’m so mad at her,” I say. “Shewantsme to be miserable because of one mistake that wasn’t my fault. It’s the stupid curse’s fault.”
“It’s not just the curse’s fault,” Keeley says, throwing me a look. “You didn’t say no when Gabe asked you to film him that night, did you? Or sneak into that carnival?”
I bite my lip, feeling caught. “Okay, but Icanblame the curse for making me be attracted to an idiot like Gabe in the first place. And heck, the curse could be the reason Mom’s into Jason! Nani said our bad luck doesn’t really end at seventeen at all; when the curse comes, it’s here to stay.” I sigh again. “This would be easier if I wasn’t straight.”
Adanna laughs at that. She’s bisexual, and coming out to her parents wasn’t the slightest bit easy. “You don’t know that. This totally could have happened if you were into girls.”
Yeah, she’s probably right. It’s such a waste. I wasn’t even that into Gabe. I was just flattered because he said he’d alwaysliked me. “Jason thinks I should go to that snooty private school in September. Sadie said that the teachers there are all old-fashioned and conservative, and Liv implied they’re a little racist, too. But all of that doesn’t even matter, because I can’t do the architecture mentorship program from Cherrybridge. I need to be in Toronto so I can network and go to the events at the university!”
“You’re spiraling, Meera,” Adanna warns.
I take a breath, feeling lightheaded. Breathe in and out. When I look back at my phone screen, my friends have worried looks on their faces.
“You can live with us in September if you need to,” Keeley offers. “Dad’s already saying it feels like he lost a daughter when you left.”
“Thanks, Keeley.” I actually tear up a bit, thinking about how much I wish I was with them right now. “You guys are still going to come here to see me this summer, right?”
“Totally.” Adanna nods vigorously. “Don’t know when, though. Maybe in August? Keeley has a performance downtown next week. And you know my cousin’s wedding stuff will be happening all month. Plus, we’re going to that music festival in Montreal.”
I don’t say anything because I was supposed to be going to that festival with them.
Trust Keeley to pick up on my feelings even when we’re long-distance. “Don’t worry, Meera,” Keeley adds. “We’ll see each other. We’ll figure something out. Gotta go now. Mr. Muffins just came in.”
I laugh. Mr. Muffins is the grumpiest cat in existence, whocomes to the clinic once a week for an injection. It’s usually an all-hands-on-deck situation so that no one gets any permanent scars.
“Okay. Be safe. I’ll call you guys tomorrow night. And every night I’m here.”
“We’ll be here,” Adanna says. “This summer will fly right by. There’s no way that your mom will force you to go to that private school. She’ll have your back.”
I exhale. “I hope so.”
