Generation Misfits

by Akemi Dawn Bowman

At first, everyone simply stared in silence. Millie didn’t know what to look for, exactly.

  But then she saw it. One line, two rows from the bottom:

  J-Club—“Sugar Pop” by Generation Love.

  Zuki shrieked. Millie and Rainbow hugged. Ashley smirked. And Luna jumped up and down, as if it was impossible for her to contain her joy.

  “We’re in!” Zuki raised her hands and smiled as wide as the sky. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

  The group fell into a chorus of laughter and congratulatory squeals—with Ashley mostly trying not to smile with their teeth, even though sometimes they couldn’t help it. Even Luna wasn’t afraid to celebrate in public.

  They’d wanted this. They’d worked hard for it.

  “We have to rehearse every day at lunch,” Zuki insisted. “We have to make our performance spectacular!”

  Luna relaxed slightly. “I—I’ll try my best. But I don’t know if I can make it every day.”

  The energy dimmed just a little. And when Millie remembered the results for her flute audition would be posted nearby, too, the energy fizzled out completely.

  “Does anyone want to come with me to the band room?” she asked gloomily.

  “Of course we will,” Rainbow said, and the others nodded to show their support.

  The five of them made their way around the building until they found the band room doors. The updated chair placement list was taped up for everyone to see.

  Millie Nakakura—third chair.

  She’d known it was coming. Her audition had gone horribly wrong in every way possible. But seeing the words in print felt like someone had sucked all the air from her lungs. All she could see was her parents’ faces and the word failure flashing above them.

  “It’s okay,” Rainbow said. “It’s just one chair. You could always challenge them back.”

  A weight pressed down on Millie’s shoulders. “You don’t understand. When my parents find out, they’re going to put even more pressure on me. Because now on top of my grades, I’m doing badly in band, too. I’ll be grounded for the rest of the school year.” If they even let me stay in school, she thought.

  After a few seconds, Ashley piped up. “How do your parents feel about after-school tutoring?”

  Millie frowned. “I mean, they made me quit my imaginary Advanced Studies club…”

  “But that’s not the same as tutoring. Tutoring would help with your grades, not give you extra work,” Ashley clarified.

  “I can’t tell them another lie,” Millie said.

  “It wouldn’t be a lie.” Ashley shrugged. “There’d be a teacher there and everything, three days a week. I could make sure you fixed your grades in time for Pop Showcase.”

  “I could help, too,” Rainbow offered.

  “It would have to be official,” Millie said slowly. “In a classroom. With someone my parents could talk to if they wanted to. And even then, they still might not agree to it.”

  Ashley looked like that wasn’t a problem at all. “My mom is a teacher here. That’s why I’m always around after school.”

  So that was how Ashley had been helping them all this time—they had someone on the inside.

  “This explains so much,” Zuki said with huge eyes.

  The morning bell rang, and Luna lifted her hand in a wave. “I’ll see you later!” she said before hurrying away toward the dance rooms.

  Rainbow waved, too. “I have Geography first. I’ll see you at lunch?”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Zuki said, falling into step beside her. “And cheer up, Millie! We’re in Pop Showcase!” She waved both her hands, her rainbow-colored bracelets dancing against her wrists.

  Millie smiled despite her heavy heart and watched the two of them walk away. She turned to Ashley. “Thank you. For always trying to help. Sometimes it feels like you’re secretly a superhero.” Ashley laughed, but Millie continued. “You try hard to be kind, even though you say you don’t want friends or that you don’t like clubs. And I don’t know why that is, but I just want you to know you mean a lot to me.”

  “I guess I kind of forgot what it felt like to have friends,” Ashley admitted. “But J-Club—and all of you—you’re making me feel like it’s okay to let my guard down once in a while.”

  Millie smiled. “See you at lunch?”

  Ashley threw a thumbs-up. “See you later, friend.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Mrs. Seo taught journalism, and although Millie had never had an interest in newspapers, she was actually looking forward to being tutored by Ashley’s mom. Because it turned out she was the nicest teacher at Brightside Academy.

  “You must be Millie,” Mrs. Seo said with a big smile. “I’ve spoken with your parents, and they said you’ll be coming Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Is that right?” When Millie nodded, Mrs. Seo motioned to a Tupperware container on her desk. “I made brownies, if you need a snack—they’re vegan and nut-free!”

  Millie took one of the brownies and found a seat at the front of the class. It seemed weird to sit anywhere else since Millie was the only student in the classroom.

  Most teachers talked to Millie while they were looking down at her. It always made her feel small, and like she was being scolded. But Mrs. Seo sat on the chair beside her and rested her chin on her fist.

  “So. Having a tough time with homework, huh?” Mrs. Seo scrunched her nose. “I remember the feeling. I used to really struggle with math when I was your age, and it took me years to finally tell the teacher I needed extra help.”

  Millie lifted her eyebrows. “Really?” It seemed too weird to think teachers weren’t always great at school. At learning.

  “Oh, absolutely. But you’re smarter than I am because you’re not waiting years to ask for help. And I’m really proud of you for that.”

  Millie stared at the brownie on her desk and relaxed into a smile. “Thanks.”

  “How about we go over your classwork, starting with first period, and see what we need to put more focus on? Does that sound okay?” Mrs. Seo asked.

  Millie pulled out her binder. When she opened it to her homework section, she paused. “It’s—it’s not always the material I need help with. It’s more the rules.”

  “What do you mean?” Mrs. Seo asked gently.

  “Well, sometimes the teachers don’t explain things very well. I feel like there are a lot of things the other kids just know about. Maybe because they’ve always gone to school. Things like how to write your name on the top corner of every page, with the date and class and assignment, and how you have to look for homework assignments on the board even if the teacher doesn’t tell you about them. And how you have to turn in your homework into the baskets without being asked in some classes, but in other classes you have to hand them to the teacher when they ask for them.” Millie pushed her brownie around nervously. “And I feel like the teachers assume that I’m just not trying hard enough, so they look at me like I’m a bad student. It makes me embarrassed to say anything.”

  “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling that way for so long. I’m sure that’s been really hard. But I want you to know that you should always say something,” Mrs. Seo said. “If you’re struggling or feeling uncomfortable, or just don’t understand what’s being asked of you—speak up. I know that’s hard at your age—it’s hard for grown-ups sometimes, too—but learning to advocate for ourselves is so important. You should never feel embarrassed to look after yourself.”

  Millie sat with her words for a moment. “I guess that makes sense. I just don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “Your teachers are here because they want to help you learn.” Mrs. Seo offered a smile. “And I don’t think there’s a single teacher I know who would be mad at a student just because they asked for help. Maybe try it next time, even if it’s scary? And if it’s still too hard, you can always come and talk to me. I’ll sort it out.”

  “You’d really do that?” Millie asked. “Even though I’m not in journalism?
”

  Mrs. Seo folded her hands into her lap. “My door is open to any student who needs it. And speaking of students…” Her eyes trailed toward the doorway. “Are you two here to study, or because you heard about the brownies?”

  Millie followed her gaze to Ashley and Rainbow, who were standing several yards away. Ashley’s hands were tucked firmly in their pockets, their backpack hanging from one shoulder. Rainbow was tugging at the edge of her sweater and staring at anything and everything but Mrs. Seo.

  “We, um—to study?” Rainbow turned a deep shade of magenta and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  Ashley was so used to Rainbow’s nerves that they barely reacted anymore. “We’re here to help Millie.”

  Mrs. Seo lifted a brow. “Oh? I didn’t know you were interested in tutoring.”

  Ashley strode through the classroom with Rainbow close behind. “I’m not. But we have most of the same teachers, so it makes sense to do our homework together if we both have to be here anyway.”

  Mrs. Seo looked at Millie knowingly. “I’m happy to see Ashley’s making some new friends.”

  Ashley rolled their eyes, but the hint of a smile appeared at the corner of their mouth.

  Mrs. Seo curved her neck and smiled at Rainbow. “Welcome! Just take a seat and make yourself comfortable, okay? Millie and I were just about to get started.”

  They worked through Millie’s classes one by one, and Rainbow and Ashley generously chimed in whenever Millie had questions about assignments or class rules. Mrs. Seo seemed more concerned about Millie herself than about her grades, which somehow made all the difference in the world. And by the end of the tutoring session, Millie felt more informed than she’d been since the start of school.

  Even though it wasn’t J-Club, it was still something she had to look forward to.

  * * *

  Tutoring carried on three times a week, and it didn’t take long for Millie to notice the changes. School felt easier. She stopped missing assignments. She understood the rules. And if she had a question about homework, she had people she could ask for help.

  It felt like the safety net she’d always needed. And the best part was that she still got to see her friends.

  Ashley and Rainbow rarely missed a session. Sometimes Zuki came by, too. She wasn’t as interested in tutoring, but she did like the snacks, and it gave her a chance to do her homework. It also seemed like she was never in a hurry to get home. Millie hadn’t noticed it before—Zuki was always so excited and happy—but there was something about the way she’d watch the clock and her shoulders would sink as the hour got later that made Millie wonder why Zuki seemed to dread leaving school.

  Rainbow nodded encouragingly as she read over Millie’s answers. “This looks great! You’ll have no problem on the test.”

  Millie smiled. “Thanks, Rainbow.”

  “You’re a really fast learner,” Zuki pointed out, and Millie couldn’t help but latch on to the compliment. “I bet that’s because you were homeschooled. There’s a kid in seventh grade—Jeremy Cortez—who was homeschooled until fourth grade, and he was the same. He’s our age, but they moved him up a year because all his classes were just too easy for him.”

  “Oh yeah,” Rainbow agreed before Millie could say anything. “I have a cousin who is homeschooled, too. He’s way smarter than me, and he’s two years younger. I think his parents are going to let him graduate superearly.” She smiled at Millie. “You never know, after all these tutoring sessions, the teachers might decide to move you up a grade, too!”

  Millie didn’t want to switch grades. All her friends were in sixth grade, and it had taken her long enough to find them. Besides, she doubted Jeremy Cortez and Rainbow’s cousin had made as many mistakes as Millie had.

  Maybe homeschooling had never been the problem. Maybe it had been Millie all along.

  But Mrs. Seo had told her that every student learned a little differently, so maybe it didn’t really matter where the problem came from, as long as Millie was able to solve it.

  And with tutoring, she felt like she finally was.

  “I’m happy where I am,” Millie said truthfully. “I only just got to school—I don’t want to rush it and miss out on spending time with my friends.”

  Rainbow sighed. “Sometimes I wish I was homeschooled. I bet it’s nice not to have to see people you don’t want to.”

  “I guess.” Millie could see the benefit of avoiding people like Ruby and Annabelle. But still. She liked going to school and seeing people and being a part of something bigger than her own little world. “I always thought being homeschooled was kind of lonely, though.”

  “Didn’t you go to any homeschool clubs?” Ashley asked.

  Millie frowned. “What are those?”

  Zuki jumped in. “Oh, Jeremy used to talk about them all the time when he first started Brightside! He went to one for volleyball and another for reading. I think there was even one for video games, which seems totally weird. But I guess they have to come up with different ways for them to socialize.”

  “I had no idea something like that even existed,” Millie said, trying to hide the sadness in her voice. Maybe she would’ve enjoyed being homeschooled more if her parents had given her a chance to meet other kids. But to them, socializing just wasn’t a priority.

  And maybe some kids, like Rainbow, weren’t as bothered about meeting people. But Millie craved it. It was why she loved to read the Generation Love forums so much. She liked what it felt like to have something in common with someone else. She liked the connection.

  Millie felt guilty for thinking it, but the truth was, she had never liked being homeschooled. She’d spent most of her time feeling like she was missing out on the real world. She’d felt cut off from people her own age. Maybe people like Jeremy Cortez loved it, and were supersmart and made friends easily. But that wasn’t Millie’s experience.

  “All I know is that I was homeschooled for six years and I never want to go back,” Millie said firmly. She looked between Zuki, Ashley, and Rainbow. “And hopefully, if I keep my grades up, I won’t have to.”

  Ashley kept their eyes pinned to Millie. Rainbow and Zuki smiled.

  And Millie didn’t know how, but she could feel what they were thinking. It was why they were going out of their way to help her.

  They didn’t want Millie to leave Brightside Academy either.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  At lunchtime, Millie hurried to the courtyard to meet her friends.

  “Sorry I’m late.” She motioned behind her, even though the classrooms were out of sight. “I forgot one of my textbooks and had to run back to get it.” She looked between Rainbow and Ashley and frowned. “Where’s Zuki?”

  Rainbow hesitated. “She, um, said she’d meet us in the theater.”

  Millie blinked. She wasn’t that late. And they always walked together. Why wouldn’t Zuki wait?

  Ashley ran a hand through their hair, scuffing up the waves. “She said something about ‘punctuality’ and ‘commitment’ and ran off. I think she’s in one of her moods.”

  “I know she’s stressed out about Pop Showcase,” Millie said carefully. “Maybe she’s just worried about the performance?”

  “That’s months away.” Ashley shook their head. “I think it’s something else.”

  “What else could it be?” Millie couldn’t imagine something being wrong and Zuki not telling her.

  Rainbow scratched her arm nervously. “Maybe—maybe it’s something to do with her family?” She paused, seeming unsure whether she was saying too much. “She did have kind of a weird reaction when I asked if her parents were going to come to the performance.”

  Millie opened her mouth to ask what she meant when a nearby voice cut in.

  “Rainbow! Is it true you auditioned for Pop Showcase?”

  Everyone turned to find Annabelle, Ruby, and Luna standing a few feet away, dance bags hanging from their shoulders. Luna fidgeted with the strap like she didn’t ex
actly know where to look.

  Rainbow paled instantly. “Um. Yeah. I did.”

  Ashley crossed their arms, voice smooth as silk. “She didn’t just audition. She got in.”

  Ruby sneered. “Did someone feel sorry for you, or is there a bet going around about whether you’ll vomit onstage again?”

  “Come on, guys,” Luna said, and her friends’ eyes snapped toward her. She winced, but continued. “I’m hungry, and the line is probably getting long.”

  Ruby turned back to Rainbow, barely missing a beat. “I remember when you actually had to be talented to get into Pop Showcase. I guess they’re just letting anyone in these days.”

  Rainbow trembled like an animal caught in the cold. Millie wanted to hug her, but she was afraid it would make it worse.

  “Last I checked, I didn’t see either of your names on the list,” Ashley said coolly. “So I guess they still have some standards.”

  Annabelle scowled. “You think you’re so—”

  “Stop, seriously,” Luna interrupted, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “Let’s just leave them alone.”

  Ruby scoffed. “Since when do you care about sticking up for these losers?”

  “Yeah,” Annabelle said, one hand on her hip.

  Luna clenched her jaw. “I just—it’s getting old, you know? And I’m—I’m—” She cast a look at Millie and her friends. “I’m hungry.”

  Ruby and Annabelle burst out laughing.

  “Hangry is more like it, you grouch,” Ruby said, and shoved Luna’s shoulder playfully. Although Luna didn’t look like she appreciated it very much.

  Annabelle flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Come on then. Let’s get you fed before you completely lose it.” She stuck her nose up and peered down at Rainbow. “Otherwise next thing you know, you’ll be the one telling us Rainbow Chan deserved to get in.” She looped her arms through Luna’s and Ruby’s and guided them toward the cafeteria.

  Just before Luna stepped inside, she glanced over her shoulder and offered a barely there smile. An apology. And then she was gone.