Sunshine Academy

Diego knew he started the day off wrong. It began with the black and white spice covering the yellow scrambled eggs like a small dust pile. In his haste, Diego had vigorously shook the canister and the white lid had popped off, creating a small cloud and resettling until it cleared and his eggs were newly decorated. 

It began also when he couldn’t find his lab report. It wasn’t buried underneath his reptile cage, it wasn’t on top of his fan, it wasn’t in the mailbox either. It wasn’t in any of the usual places, and he had checked the fridge just to make sure.

He was clutching his other homework in the car as he reflected on the little pool of dog lemonade on the floor back at the apartment. In his haste, he had forgotten to clean it up.  

That wasn’t the end of it. It was the curly red hair he spied bobbing over the heads of the students that Diego knew he was in trouble. For starters, he wasn’t in class on time. The new bobbing red-haired lady had a grimace on her face as Diego bounced over the doorway and tripped on a chair that playfully stuck itself out near him. His outstretched arm that dared to touch the ceiling was enough to make her falter before she ignored him and continued on. It was true - he was asking more questions than normal, but that was because she didn’t appear to see him. By the end of class, his list of questions had gone entirely unaddressed. 

In his next class, he stared at his report card. There it was again. Another F. He was getting tired of purposely failing classes. As a genius, it was important to be undercover…

He thought about Dracula Prep, a place where people already had degrees in vaping. It was a big dank high school that was a deep, almost plum-like color and had barred windows. What if no high school wanted him now? If he didn’t keep it up, he’d go there next school year. His stomach felt sick at the thought of Dracula being his high school. A student laughed at him and blew smoke in his face. Waving, his hand brushed aside these thoughts to his school’s cafeteria. 

His face brightened at the fact that he still had his lunch. Every day, unbeknownst to him, his mother would prepare a surprise lunch - sometimes animal-shaped pizza slices or peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches, sometimes ants on a log in the old-fashioned childish way that he still liked. 

He stared at the bottom of the paper bag. There, lying against the brown, were a few green crumpled dollar bills. Poor mami forgot that you had to subscribe to school meals, not buy. Diego proceeded to starve. 

Instead, he evacuated to the bathroom. There, in the midst of empty stalls, he stared in front of a mirror. He pulled a cap out of his backpack and plopped it on, turning the brim backwards. There. Maybe he looked cooler now. He slid his glasses off his nose and gently tapped his contacts. Maybe the second half of his day would be better, and at least he wouldn’t look like a nerd. As soon as he got into the hallway, someone called out, 

“Hey Diego! Where’s your glasses?” 

“Four-eyed!” Someone called. His lack of glasses seemed to call even more attention to them. It didn’t work. Diego began to run. There were no teachers around to stop him, and he didn’t stop until he stood in a hallway panting, and rested his hands on his knees. He had reached a corner of sleeping classes, dark without any light. Slowly Diego turned and plopped into the corner of a classroom. It was dark here, and they would easily miss him, going back to the lunchroom. It was a Spanish classroom. Festive banners hung from the ceiling. Empty holes were cut into the colored triangles in a sort of pattern. Diego had just settled down when a voice spoke. 

“You should just take different classes,” it said. DIego turned to find a small, yellow haired boy nearby. 

“That’s what I do,” the boy continued to say. “That way I avoid the bullies.”

Diego continued to stare. 

“I just take the upper classes, or the online ones.” He said. “I’m homeschooled. My co-op doesn’t offer classes like that,” he said. “I’m Jeremy by the way.” He stuck out a hand. 

Diego was repeating the name of the co-op to himself when he got home. He was bursting to tell his mami about homeschooling. Usually he took the bus, a short ride back from home, and he didn’t have to make it on time. The day had been bad, as bitter as raw chocolate, kind of like his entire year so far which had been a failure. He had almost forgotten about the second surprise his mami would usually prepare for him. She would leave colored pan dulce on the kitchen counter before he came home from school each day because it was cheap at Fiesta, the local grocery store. When he got home, on the familiar countertop was half a white-colored pastry. Diego sighed. Looks like he wasn’t the only one who had a bad start to their day. She had left a post it note. Dear Diego, it began, got into a slight car accident this morning. Sorry for any delay, Mami. Certainly under some stress, Diego decided. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to talk to her. First thing he did, while sitting down with his half-pastry, was pull out his phone. He knew what homeschooling was, he just hadn’t thought about it, added it to his repertoire of options. 

Diego stayed locked in his room when his mother arrived late that evening. He didn’t know how to talk about it with her. He decided to walk to a gas station. During the walk, he passed by littered trash scattered around the grass, a large concrete train bridge, and a few homeless men. At last he found the gas station, a clean round building with a mini supermarket and a man selling elote under an umbrella outside. The gas station was on that his mom would normally go to, although he knew how full the gas tank was exactly and that his mom wouldn’t go there yet.

He went there because of his thoughts. They were too loud and needed to be written on paper. 

Diego dipped his spoon into the creamy corn and brought up a spoonful of white fluffy cheese that had sprigs of lime flavor and was peppered with bright amber paprika. Silently he stared at the piece of paper before him, a pencil in hand. He began to scribble, occasionally making an X mark. He had started to make a pro and con list of homeschooling vs remaining in school for high school. The sweet corn mixed with the salty cheese. At the bottom, under a star, he made a plan. If he could self-study by taking an online community college class, he could be homeschooled starting in high school. He circled an entire paragraph before sliding off the high stool and hurrying out the jangling door. 

Diego had to wait a full day before having a talk with his mom. That day, thoughts of the talk were almost a distraction from the school atmosphere itself. He forgot about the lost lab from the day before, he forgot to hide in the bathroom or the empty classrooms during lunch, and he forgot about his extra set of questions he had originally wanted to ask the substitute teacher.  

The talk finally came. Apprehensively, he approached his mom after work, a bright pink pastry in hand. Can we please have a talk? The question was on his lips. His mami smiled. 

“I’ll make us some Mexican hot chocolate,” she said. She could tell he had something important to say. His piece of paper from the gas station was kept crumpled in his hand. 

He began to talk about how he was not doing well in middle school. 

“Yes - I’ve noticed,” his mother said. Diego explained he was ready for change. He took a sip of hot chocolate. It tasted spicy, and full of flavor. 

Diego felt on a rise. 

“Did you know that homeschooling is cheaper?” He asked. “Homeschooling saves the federal government about $24 billion concerning taxpayer money,” He said. His mom smiled. 

“But what about individual costs?” she asked. “We have to purchase things such as books,” she said. “I won’t be able to teach you, I have to work full time. I have to continue to work. How else do I support us?” she asked. 

Diego hadn’t thought about that. His stomach dropped. He stared at his pros and cons list. “Won’t get fun lunches” “Had been homeschooled before” He had forgotten a few things. Diego took a sip of the hot cocoa. It almost seemed bitter, the cinnamon and spices overpowering the chocolate flavor. 

His mom began to speak softly. “Calling yourself a genius won’t override the fact that you have bad grades,” she began. “You’re still a superhero, despite not being a real genius. However, we must address those bad grades! Instead of ignoring them, let’s see if there’s an alternative to Dracula Prep!” she said. Diego breathed a sigh in relief. 

“How bout this. You prove to me you can study on your own. Take a community college class for the semester, and if that works, you can homeschool for high school,” she said. Diego nodded. Slowly the feeling of dread began to subside. He took a sip of the hot cocoa. It had begun to taste sweet. 

She moved to place her arms around him. 

“We can work on dinner together, you and me, as you go to college early and I continue at my job.” “Hmm, there’s one thing missing,” she said. 

“What?” Diego felt comfortable underneath her arm. 

“What shall we call it?” 

“Call it?” Diego asked. HIs mami smiled. 

“Our school,” she said. 

“How about - Sunshine Academy?” Diego said. They both agreed that Sunshine Academy was a good name. Diego jugged the last dregs of his hot chocolate. It tasted like hot chocolate - rich and frothy. 

A year later, Diego popped open the microwave and put in a churro. It was his reward for finishing 5 sections of precalculus. He wasn’t a genius, but he was about to graduate college early from doing dual credit in high school. Soon, he’d graduate from Sunshine Academy.