Disaster Class

11. uncle victor repellent

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟏
" 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 "
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            It's just a minor setback.

This is what I tell myself after that disastrous meeting with the D-Class girls. In my head, it's not that bad. Just a small misunderstanding. I'm sure I'll sort it out as soon as class starts again. Mack, on the other hand, claims that it's unsalvageable.

"You called them the runts of St. Madeleine, Nico," he says, sitting on my bed, currently coddling Ara on his lap. "You might as well have written a red F on their foreheads."

"I was just speaking –"

"Objectively," he says, rolling his eyes. "I get it. You've said so a hundred times, but that doesn't change the fact that you've offended them. Yes, he did. He offended them, hasn't he, Ara-baby-boo?"

Ugh, that baby talk! Deep down, I think it's annoying that Mack's giving more attention to the cat than me. I cross my arms and pout at both of them. 

What was so bad about what I said? I was offering to help the D-Class break out of their status. That can't be bad. But who knows how their little brains work? Maybe I did offend them. "Fine," I say. "I'll be more respectful next time."

"Next time?"

"Uh yeah," I say like it's a no-brainer. "I'm not gonna let something like this derail my whole plan."

Mack shakes his head. "You don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Nope," I quip. "It's called persistence, Mack."

"It's called stubbornness," he disputes.

I shrug. "Po-tay-to, po-tah-to."

My bedroom door creaks open, revealing a disgruntled Dad carrying a suitcase. "Your uncle's leaving in a minute. He's in the kitchen. Care to say goodbye?"

Hallelujah! When one door closes, another one opens, and fortunately this one leads Uncle Victor out of my life for a couple of months.

"I'll be right out," I tell Dad, trying to keep my excitement under wraps but as soon as he closes the door, I swoon to the bed and collapse next to Mack and Ara. "Thank God! That's one less problem on my plate."

Mack chuckles. "He will not be missed."

"He'll be back on the 4th of July," I say, dreading it already. Uncle Victor isn't even a naturalized American citizen, but he gets more patriotic than I do. No one loves fireworks and barbeques and noise and freedom more than your average chauvinist. "What I'd give to get him to stay away forever."

"You can let me live with you. I'll be your Uncle Victor repellent, driving pesky relatives away with flair and pizzazz! I could even ask one of my theater buddies to pretend to be my boyfriend just to drive it in. How do you think Uncle Victor would react to seeing two guys make out?"

A tempting offer indeed. Uncle Victor would implode. "Come on," I say, shooing Ara off his lap. "Let's give dear Uncle Victor a proper sendoff."

We're halfway down the stairs when we hear Uncle Victor droning on about something in the kitchen. Dad cuts him off with a muffled rebuke, and their voices lower down to conspiring decibels.

Color me intrigued. Nothing invites eavesdropping better than two people whispering in the kitchen.

I motion for Mack to slow down and listen. We pause just out of sight near the doorway. Turning my ear to the kitchen, I hear the voices picking up.