What makes a bad choice? The way it affects you, or the way it affects those around you?
And what�s the difference? Life is full of choices. Every single thing you do in your life is a choice. Or an effect of a choice. Everything can be indirectly linked back to your choices.
And these choices shape who we are, how we are, why we are. I think, simply, that a bad choice is one that you make again, knowing that the same results may result.
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Then, Fourth hour�. Everything went to hell in a handbasket.
Senora called us to the Spanish class� us as in, those in the school that are going to Mexico in eight days.
Pat and Kim made fun of my clothes. In an off way� like they didn�t want to say that they were talking about me, but everyone knew they were. Including me.
Then Senora came up to the front of the classroom. I figured we were going to talk about travelers checks, and how we shouldn�t really use them.
But then she looked at us all and said, �Because of the Travel Advisory warnings for Northern Mexico�� Here her eyes turned to water in front of us. She choked on the next five words� �E.F. has canceled our trip.�
Everything, everyone, froze. I remember seeing Marcus drop his orange slice into his peanut butter bread. And then his hands didn�t move for like, the next ten minuets. Pat suddenly didn�t know what to do with his hands. He twisted them over his desk, then tried covering his mouth. Hands everywhere pretty much did one of those two things; freeze or move frantically.
�We have three options.� Senora continues into our shocked silence. �We can either postpone the trip, get vouchers for next year, or just get our money back�.�
After twenty or so minuets, we leave the room grimly. Joelle is sobbing quietly, which sends me over the edge as soon as Shelby hugs me.
I cry all through study hall. I called Dad and told him the news before fifth hour. That�s when I really let myself poor the tears down my cheeks. I went to class, then, even though my face was super red and blotchy.
The rest of my day was covered in this bleak cloud. Senora told us that Costa Rica might take us. But it�s a shot in the dark. And it�s not Mexico.
I think Senora is right. That maybe, this is God saving us. Because he�s preventing something terrible happening to us, because it will. We may never ever know what. But He�s saving us from that.
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Justin is such an asshole during lunch. Like my day hasn�t been shitty enough? Like my eyes aren�t still blood red and puffy? Like I didn�t ask you to please stop fucking with me because I am so not in the mood?
First he starts out messing with my food. When I tell him something along the lines of �You act like a four-year-old, Justin. It�s disappointing.� Or something. He said the same thing to me, only rephrased.
�You act like James actually likes you. It�s disappointing.�
I just looked at him, like it didn�t even phase me.
But it did.
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After school came track practice. I was sitting at my locker, putting stuff in my locker, when someone comes up behind me and wraps their arms around me. For a crazy second I think it�s Bama, so I twist away a little, trying to see her face�.
But it�s James. He holds me closer. �What�s wrong?� he asks. I realize that he saw me after fourth hour, and it must have been bugging him all day, esp if he�d take the time to walk all the way across the school from Health just to catch me, make sure I�m okay.
I pull the letter Senora gave us out of my backpack and hand it to him, unsure that I�d be able to tell him without tears.
He lets go of me to read it. then his eyes widen. �Oh wow�. Why?�
I tell him that there�s drug wars. �These people are evil, James. They cut off people�s heads and leave them in school yards.�
�Anna�� he whispers. �are you going to postpone?�
�Maybe. But they�re just going to get worse. It�s a war that they�re doing. A war without laws. How do you resolve illegal activity that�s taking lives, when you have no morals to uphold a truce?�
�What other options do you have?�
�Maybe Costa Rica. But� it�s not Mexico. It�s too touristy.�
He looks into my eyes for a moment then wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. �It�s going to be okay.� He whispers in my ear.
�Thank you.� I reply. �You have no idea how much I needed that.�
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At track, Marcus is bursting with info on Costa Rica. He convinces Lindsey and I, that�s for sure. It sounds kinda amazing.
I just hope the other groups let us go�
I hope EF lets us go�
I hope God lets us go.
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Then I went shopping for Mexico supplies. I even buy a gift for the Gypsy children. Evan works there, apparently. I told him about the evilness of drug lords and the sadness of the students. He told me where to find the crayons.
After I talked to him, everything started working� red lights turned green when I approached them, my total rang up just dollars below the amount I wanted to spend, everything started to click. I wonder if whatever�s been making the day terrible has ended. Then I wonder if it�s Evan�s fault.
If it is, I�ll have to talk to him more often.
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Quote of the day: �Oh, please, God�Please. And thank you, too. Whatever you saved us from. Thank you. But please, God� Costa Rica? And also� Make AM Rodger� please, God. Costar Rica?��