Page 4 - Anywhere but Paradise

“Haoles helping haoles,” says Kiki.
“Typical,” murmurs the girl at the machine next to

us.
“Kiki, I’m trying to help you. It’s the perfect solution.
We discussed your academic problems in the counselor’s
office. You promised you’d raise your grades. You need
help. This girl is an accomplished seamstress. You’re

akamai, Kiki. Act like it. Act smart.”
“She can help me,” says the girl to my left.
“Or me,” says another.

“No,” says Kiki, glaring right at me. “She’s mine.”
“It’s settled, then,” says Mrs. Barsdale, walking away.
“I can’t wait to leave this stupid school,” Kiki says.
“Next year, high school will be so much better.”
So she’s an eighth grader.

“Stupid haole,” says Kiki.
“What have I done?”
“Plenty. You’re all the same; you’re all related to

Captain Cook. Diseased.”
Diseased?
“You come over here and tell us what to do. How
to live. You are not the boss of me.”
“I—”

“Stop bothering me. Stop talking.”
Fine, I mouth, and adjust my ponytail. That, I
think, is the smart thing to do.

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